Penny Reed Cardon
Author:
Organizational:
Audience Rating:
Taxonomy upgrade extras:
Featured Author Penny Reed Cardon.
A Life Ever Changing - Epilogue - Let It Slip Away
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Permission:
By Penny Reed Cardon
Helen was absolutely furious about the news paper article and how hurtful it was to everybody involved. She tried to put it out of her mind and to lovingly help Angel and her family put it out of their minds as well. She did everything she could to make Angel’s life as happy as it had been before. But after Angel went inside and didn’t come out again Helen became obsessed with finding out who the traitor was, who had given the information to the press, when and why. She stopped designing dresses and left others to run her shop and business, all she did for many months was interview the girls from the choir and their families. Her final conclusion was that one of the choir members had an Aunt that was jealous because she felt her niece should have been the soloist. The story had been leaked to the press the first or second week that Angel had been rehearsing with the choir, which explained why the reporters had so much time to research the story. It didn’t matter if the choir had won or lost the national championship the story would have been published and either way Angel/Ricky would be at fault and he and his family would be humiliated, the jealous Aunt would get her revenge.
As for the choir — Their “National Choir Championship” title was stripped from the choir. The choir itself was disbanded. Mrs. Russell was never permitted to direct another choir, and what of the other girls? Their names were recorded and circulated to all the choirs in the area. They were black balled; they were never permitted to join any other choir.
So because of one jealous Aunt trying to hurt one little boy she succeeded in devastating an entire community and hurting the lives of hundreds of innocent people.
“Evil knows no boundaries, when it is released it is difficult to contain and impossible to control”.
Evil Daddy
It took Helen’s detectives 3 months to track down the low life scumbag that had so brutally raped Julia. He was living in a flea bag hotel in Los Angeles at the time. Of course being an upstanding citizen of the community Helen just had to let the authorities know of his whereabouts. He was extradited, tried and sentenced to the state prison for a 5 to 15 year term. Helen also had some contacts that were not quite so upstanding. She made sure that he served the entire 15-year sentence. She also made sure the he had, shall we say “special company” every night. It was going to be a very, very long 15 years.
Life with the Twins
Rachel soon discovered that taking care of the twins was a bigger job than she or Grace had anticipated. You see taking care of one angry person is one thing; taking care of two angry people is an entirely different challenge. You see the twins were emotionally linked, when one was happy they were both happy but when one was sad or angry they were both sad and angry. And being that they were 20 years of age and Rachel was 16 (when she first arrived) she seemed to be just a little undersized for the job. But she was determined, dedicated, and now had a very strong will that would not let her size difference stop her from doing what ever she needed to do.
Rachel soon discovered also that there was an effective and efficient way of getting the twins to calm down when they were angry, or to be happy when they were sad. This little trick was soon a delight to the twins and the entire household. You see Rachel had learned to accept the different personalities within her and even to control them. Her little trick as you might have guessed was to let Angel out to sing. Her voice although it had changed slightly over the years was still the voice of “An Angel Sent from Heaven”. Angel’s voice could be heard throughout the entire estate and when she sang to calm the twins it had the same effect on the entire household. As word of this got to Julia and Auntie Harriet they couldn’t help but tell Auntie Helen and Auntie Sylvia. It wasn’t long until Angel was again singing concerts, although they were very, very private concerts. Only her mother, her aunt’s and Betty’s household and occasionally a few others very special guests were invited to attend. On a few special occasions some members of the choir were also permitted to attend and even sing along with Angel (Christmas carols turned out to be everybody’s favorite). Rachel was so happy that she no longer had to hide her music that she loved so much.
Graduation Day
Taking care of the twins took a lot more of Rachel’s time than she had anticipated. It was very difficult to find time to do the “Home School”, school work that she needed to do. She was fighting hard to take care of the twins and to achieve a goal that she had set for herself which was to graduate with the rest of her High School graduating class. But somehow she managed to find the time and got the work done. She passed all of her final exams with flying colors. Everyone was excited when the test scores came back to find that Rachel / Richard was in the top 5% of the graduating class.
Graduation Day was approaching quickly and they knew that it would take some time to change from Rachel back to Richard. The hair was going to be the hardest part. They couldn’t cut it because it had to be long when Rachel went back to Betty’s and the twins. But due to Aunt Harriet’s skills that challenge was soon over come and Richard, in a new custom tailored suit by Auntie Helen (the most masculine outfit she had ever created), was a very handsome young man.
There are a lot of little people in this world, not short or small because of the size but little, because they are very little inside.
When Richard was seen joining the graduating class many wondered why he was there. All they remembered was the little boy that had humiliated the town by pretending to be a girl. When Richard once again heard those nasty, obscene, and intentionally stabbing comments that he remembered from so long ago. He would smile; turn and then go to the person that was trying to make him feel bad. They must have thought that he was going to beat them up (you see the years he spent taking care of the twins had only added to his upper body strength and the size of his arms). Richard would just smile and shake their hand, complementing them or congratulating them or giving them some other positive remark. You see their feeble attempts to hurt, discredit, or humiliate Richard no longer had any affect because he was no longer the shy, timid, helpless child they once knew. Richard knew who and what he was — he was part Richard and part Ricky, part Angel, and part Rachel. He was strong and sure of him self and he knew that he had a very bright and happy future before them.
Everyone that loved Richard, Rachel, and Angel were invited to attend the graduation ceremony. There was a big party for all of them at Auntie Helen estate afterwards. Every one had a wonderful time. Many of the guests had to point out those ridiculous baby pictures of Angel that were on Auntie Helen’s walls embarrassing Richard again but not in a hurtful way. Every one was absolutely in awe at the life size portrait of “An Angle in Concert” as the plaque beside the picture read. They even persuaded Richard and the few girls that were there from the choir to sing for every one. With Mrs. Russell at the piano Richard and the girls gave the performance that had won them the “National Choir Championship” 9 years before. There wasn’t a dry eye anywhere on the estate as Angel’s voice echoed and swelled and resounded throughout the estate. No one wanted to leave after such an event, but slowly one by one they said their tearful good-bye’s and went their different ways. Finally the only ones remaining were Richard and his mom, Barbara and her mom, Auntie Harriet, Helen, and Sylvia with not a dry eye among them.
Richard and Barbara took one week for themselves making plans for their future before Rachel had to return to Betty and the twins.
Life, so they say, is but a game and we let it slip away.
Love, like the Autumn sun, should be dyin' but it's only just begun.
Like the twilight in the road up ahead, they don't see just where we're goin'.
And all the secrets in the Universe, whisper in our ears
And all the years will come and go, take us up, always up.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
We may never pass this way again.
Dreams, so they say, are for the fools and they let 'em drift away.
Peace, like the silent dove, should be flyin' but it's only just begun.
Like Columbus in the olden days, we must gather all our courage.
Sail our ships out on the open sea. Cast away our fears
And all the years will come and go, and take us up, always up.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
We may never pass this way again.
So, I wanna laugh while the laughin' is easy. I wanna cry if it makes it worthwhile.
We may never pass this way again, that's why I want it with you.
'Cause, you make me feel like I'm more than a friend. Like I'm the journey and you're the journey's end.
We may never pass this way again, that's why I want it with you, baby.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
We may never pass this way again. We may never pass this way again.
Seals & Crofts (1973)
Raised in SLC
Author:
Organizational:
Audience Rating:
Taxonomy upgrade extras:
If we are lucky, someone will discover that we are struggling
who will lovingly help and guide us as we grow.
Raised in SLC - chapter 1
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Themes:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Synopsis:
If we are lucky, someone will discover that we are struggling, who
will lovingly help and guide us as we grow.
Story:
The places are real, because it’s where I grew up.
The memories are mine,
The fantasy is mine.
You decide which, is which!
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 1
Even if I had understood them,
I would not have been allowed to embrace my inner self.
Today those childhood feelings have come together.
I now know whom I am and who I was meant to be.
Welcome to my world of
“Misty Water Colored Memories”
Mixed with fantasy, wishes, dreams, and the horror of what might have been.
FAMILY
Mom — Edith McNeil Covington
Long Black hair, short (5'2") but very attractive, great cook.
Dad — David Covington
Macho Ex-Marine works in the security dept for a large company.
Brother — Charles — Chuck
13 years old, black hair, tall & lean but strong, loves all sports, Dads’ favorite
Sister — Karen
11 years old, black hair, brown eyes, a tomboy, hates anything girly or feminine.
Me — Matthias — Matt — (Matilda)
9 years old, curly Blonde hair, blue eyes, dumbo ears, small for age, very bright,
Sister — Rachael
8 years old, long brown hair, hazel eyes, always happy & giggly, totally feminine.
My Friend’s
Sara, Molly, Julie, Mary Beth, & Kimberly
I remember standing in front of a mirror, staring at myself. With my short curly blond hair, blue eyes, and Dumbo’s ears. I was wearing a long pink dress (at least it was long on me) with puffy sleeves. Looking down at my feet (which I couldn’t see in the mirror), I saw a pair of way too big brown penny loafers. Did I dress myself or had someone else dressed me this way? Some questions are never answered; some mysteries are never solved.
I remember on the first day of school Mommy got me out of the car and we walked through the gate in the fence, and across the playground holding hands. Mommy was so tall, but then everybody is tall when you are six but you look like you’re only four. We were talking as we walked, but we always talked when we were together and we were always together.
Mommy would usually get me up early each day and we would cook breakfast for the rest of the family (Rachael was too little to help then). Then Daddy would give Mommy and me a hug and kiss as he left for work. Then Karen gave us a hugs and kisses as she left for school, Chuck just grumbled “bye” as he would leave a few minutes after Karen. Chuck never walked with his sister; he was too macho to walk with a girl. He would meet up with his friends and they would walk together, making fun of the girls they passed along the way.
Then it would be just Mommy, Rachael, and I. First, we would wash up the breakfast dishes, and then Mommy would help me with my bath. Sometimes Mommy would bathe Rachael at the same time. Yes, I could take a bath by myself, but it was so much more fun when Mommy helped. Then it was time to make the beds and do the laundry. After the laundry was done, it would be time for lunch. Then it would be our special time, just Mommy and me (that’s when Rachael would take a nap). Sometimes we would sit and read all afternoon, that is Mommy would read, I would sit in her lap and listen. Sometimes we would sew; Mommy made her own dresses and all the curtains in the house, and lots of other things. Sometimes we would go out shopping (but only after Rachael woke up). But it was always Mommy and me, almost as if Rachael wasn’t there.
On this particular day after lunch, Mommy took me to school. It was really, fun, there were lots of other kids there and lots of new things to see and do. There were four big round tables that each had six children sitting around them. There were three boys and three girls at each table except for the table where I was sitting. There were more girls than there were boys, so I was the only boy with five girls. Mary Beth sat on my right and Kimberley; we all called her Kimmie, on my left. Then there were Sara, Molly, and Julie. All the girls said I was cute and that we were all going to have so much fun together. I didn’t pay much attention to who was at the other tables, because the girls around my table were so nice and friendly. Later I would pay for that lack of attention.
Mommy sat in the back of the room that day. She took me home after school and we talked for a long time about school and how I felt about going to school.
“Oh Mommy I really liked going to school today, it was lots of fun, and I had a really good time,” I told her.
“Oh Matt I am glad that you liked going to school today, but I am kind of sad too.”
“But Mommy, how can you be glad and sad at the same time,” I asked.
“I’m glad that you like going to school. You are going to learn so many new and exciting things, make new friends, and have so much fun. But I am sad too, because we won’t be able to have our special afternoons together any more,” Mom told me.
“But why not,” I asked, starting to get sad as I realized what she had said. It was then that I started to sniffle and a tear escaped from the corner of my eye, running down my cheek, the first of many to follow.
“Because when you go to school, you go to school every day, just like Charles and Karen do. They go to school all day, but because you’re in Kindergarten you will only go in the afternoons,” she was explaining. I could not help myself as I started to cry. Mommy just held me and gently rocked me until I stopped crying.
Thinking back, I wondered who was taking care of Rachael that afternoon.
The next day Mommy took me to school and walked me to class but she didn't stay in the back of the room as she did the day before. I was very sad but Mary Beth and Kimmie both hugged me until I felt better. The other girls chipped in by telling some funny stories to help cheer me up.
Each day after that, Mommy would let me out of the car and I had to walk through the gate and across the playground by myself. If she waited until I was in the building things were okay. However, if she drove away before I was in the building, things were not so okay. Because I was so small, it seemed that I always being picked on by some of the bigger kids. There were usually some first or second grade kids hanging around the doors leading into the Kindergarten classrooms. There must be a “strange attraction to small children” that brings out the worst in big kids and bullies.
I don’t remember too much more about Kindergarten except that my best friends were Mary Beth and Kimmie. While we were at school, we did everything together, we did our art projects together. We learned our letters’ and numbers together, and during recess, we played together. I also remember that there was one boy; he was bigger than everyone else in the class. His name was Bartholomew Roberts. He hated his name and told everyone to call him Bart. He was the class troublemaker and bully. He was always getting into trouble, talking out of turn, making gross noises, and in general making it hard for the rest of us to listen. He always made things difficult for the teachers. During recess, he thought it was fun to push people around and it seemed that I was his favorite victim. It wasn’t long before he had earned the nickname - Black Bart.
“KAREN,” Rachael screamed, from the room that they shared.
Karen came running through the bedroom door “What’s the matter . . .” she asked before she was completely in the room, expecting to find her sister hurt or something, judging from the volume and tone of her scream.
To her surprise, Rachael was standing beside her dresser with her hands on her hips wearing her bathrobe (having just taken her morning shower) and was she mad about something.
“Have you been going through my things again?” Rachael quickly asked.
Although relieved that her sister was not hurt, the tone and anger in Rachael’s voice had Karen stunned for a Moment. Karen finally said, “Of course not why would . . .”
“What’s going on in here?” Mom asked, as she rushed into the room to find out what all the commotion was.
“Mom, Karen has been going through my things again! “ Rachael said loudly before Karen had a chance to speak.
“Settle down Rachael,” Mom said, “Now tell me exactly what’s happened.”
Calmly, but unquestionably still agitated, Rachael proceeded to tell her mother why she was upset. “Well you know that after my laundry is done I always put away my clothes. Then I plan what I am going to wear each day for the next week. I also arrange my underwear in my drawer in the order that I want to wear them each day, so they will match the outfit that I’m planning to wear. I told you several weeks ago that someone has been going through my things because they keep rearranging things in my underwear drawer. Well today’s underwear is missing, the pink vest with the red bow and the pink nylon panties with the lace across the back and around the legs.”
“And you think I took them?” Karen jumped in “I wouldn’t be caught dead in pink underwear, especially panties with lace. Besides nothing of yours would fit me.”
“Rachael, your sister is right you know. Your clothes simply would not fit her,” Mom said.
“Mom, I know she isn’t wearing them. She’s just moving things around to make me mad.”
“Oh sweetheart, I really don’t think your sister would be rearranging the underwear in your drawer just to make you angry,” Mom answered.
“Well then, who else would be playing with my underwear?” asked Rachael, not realizing the implication of her choice of words.
“I don’t know dear, but there must be another answer. In the meantime, just move your schedule up a day and get dressed. Oh and Rachael, another thing, don’t scream like that unless you are seriously hurt. You had the whole family thinking you were about die or something,” Mom said as she gave Rachael a kiss on her forehead, and then turned to leave. She paused for just a Moment as if thinking about something and then continued out.
“Rachael, you are just too strange. Nobody that I know of, other than you, plans what she is going to wear a week in advance, especially not her underwear. You really need to learn to relax and enjoy life a little more. After all you’re only eight,” Karen admonish her younger sister, closing the door as she left.
"Eight and a half!” Rachael called out as the door closed.
Edith went back to fixing breakfast while thinking about what had gone on with the girls. She had a suspicion that she knew who might be “playing” with Rachael’s clothes, but needed more evidence.
After David had gone to work and the kids left for school, Edith spent some time looking for Rachael’s missing underwear. She could not find it anywhere in the house. She went through the laundry hamper in the kid’s bathroom but didn’t find the missing items. She left everything there and would check this evening after the boys had their showers. With four kids plus her and David there was no way there would be enough hot water for them to all take baths in the morning or evening. Therefore, she and the girls would bathe in the morning and David and the boys would bathe in the evening. She went through the laundry hamper waiting to go into the washer. Then she searched the girls’ room. Lastly, she went into the boys room but still had no luck in finding the missing underwear. She did find one odd thing. In the back of Matt’s sock drawer, she found one of Rachael’s anklets (you know the kind that you fold down and has lace around the ankle). She was going to dismiss it as having been mixed in with Matt’s white socks, but then she noticed that the bottom of the sock was just a little dirty, as if someone had been wearing them on the carpet without shoes on.
That evening after the kids were in bed she checked the laundry hamper in their bathroom again. She smiled to herself as she found the missing underwear buried half way down. She now knew who was getting into Rachael’s clothes. The only problem was how to go about proving it without involving anyone else or embarrassing anyone.
The next day as Rachael was getting dress there was a knock on her door.
“Who’s there” she called out.
“It’s Mother Sweetheart. May I come in and talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, Mom, come on in,”
“Rachael, I have a favor to ask. Now I know that this is going to sound strange, but please just do as I ask.”
“Sure, Mom. You know I would do anything for you. What is it?”
“Sweetheart, I know that you arrange your underwear in the order you plan to wear them, but could you leave the frilliest things you have, on top?” Edith asked.
“Well sure I guess so. Are you talking about the matching pink vest and panties, the ones with all the lacey ruffles on them?”
“That’s the ones. Just get out what you’re going to wear each day and put them back on top. Also, don’t say anything to anyone about this, not even Karen. Can you do that for me Sweetheart.”
“I guess so, Mom. What’s this all about?” Rachael asked.
“Well I think I know who has been moving your things around, but I’m not positive. Just leave the frilly panties on top and quietly let me know when they disappear. Okay, Sweetheart, and promise me that you won’t talk to anyone this.”
“Sure, Mom. No problem — I promise, I won’t say a word.”
Several weeks went by with no unusual commotion, and no reports of anything missing
“Mom it’s been almost a month. I am starting to feel silly leaving those frilly panties on the top of the stack in my drawer,” Rachael whispered to her Mom one night while helping with the dishes.
“I know, but keep it up. I thought things would be quiet for a while after the fuss you made yelling at Karen. Just keep putting them on top. I think I might know how to speed things up,” Mom whispered back.
The next night while they were playing Monopoly together as a family, Edith thought it was time to try to flush out the “panty bandit.”
“Matt — would you mind being left home alone for a few hours this Saturday?” she asked.
“Umm I guess not,” I answered. “Uh, why”?
“Well you know that your Dad has to work Saturday, and Charles has baseball practice. I thought that I would take Karen and Rachael to the Crossroads Plaza. It’s just a few blocks from where Charles’s team practices. I need to get Karen a few new things, as she is outgrowing a lot of her clothes,” she answered.
“Umm, sure. Three or four hours alone are no problem, Mom. I am sure I’ll have more fun watching TV than hanging around the mall while Karen tries on clothes. She takes so long deciding what she wants. Although Rachael takes twice as long,” I added with a giggle. I jumped back away from the table quickly after saying that, knowing that Rachael’s hand would be heading in the direction of my ribs. She missed and I giggled some more.
“Oh, you’re such a tease!” Rachael said while pouting.
Saturday arrived and Dad left for work early. Chuck’s baseball practice was scheduled for 9:00am so Mom hurried everyone else out to the car at about 8:45. I was left sitting happily in the family room watching Saturday morning cartoons. After dropping Chuck off, Mom headed back home instead of going to the mall.
“Where are we going Mom? The mall is the other way.” Karen said.
“Oh we’re going home for a minute. I, umm, forgot something,” was her only reply.
As they approached their house, Edith parked the car two houses away and got out. “You two stay here and behave yourselves. I will be back in just a couple of minutes, okay?” she said as she got out and walked to their house.
“Why did Mom park here instead of in the driveway?” Karen asked Rachael with a very puzzled look on her face.
“I don’t know,” Rachael replied as she shrugged her shoulders, but she was thinking to herself. ‘I wonder if this has anything to do with my underwear.’
Edith reached the house and very gently opened the storm door, unlocked the house door and slowly pushed it open. Stepping inside, she gently closed both doors without making a sound. She then reached down and slipped off her shoes so she could move around the house quietly. As she slowly made her way toward the family room, she could hear that the TV was still on. Upon arriving, she could see that Matt was not there. The bathroom door was open and the light was off so she knew he wasn’t in there. As she went down the hall towards the kid’s bedrooms she noticed that the boys’ bedroom door was standing wide open and its light was also off, but that the girls’ bedroom door was closed. As she moved closer, she could here someone moving about in the girls’ room. She quietly turned the doorknob, pushed the door open just a crack, and peeked in. She smiled when she saw that it was indeed Matt that was in the girl’s room. She gently pushed the door open and stepped into the room.
I froze suddenly, gripped by terror when I noticed that the bedroom door was open and Mom was standing there looking at me. It seemed like hours before she spoke, although it was probably only a few seconds. “Hello Matt, or should I call you Matilda?” she finally said with a smile.
I still hadn’t moved since seeing her. My arms were out and all my weight was on my left leg while my right leg was sticking out behind me. As I had been spinning around, I was frozen in mid-spin.
“Well aren’t you going to say hello?” Mom asked.
I closed my mouth, which had dropped open about twelve inches, and was barely able to squeak out a faint high-pitched “HI.”
“Well let’s see what we have here. Your sister’s’ pink ruffled party dress. The band at the bottom of the puff sleeves seem to be a bit tight on your arms. The waist seems to be the right size, and the length is just about right. I see you had trouble with the zipper, being that it’s not all the way up,” she said as came over and finished zipping it up, noticing the pink lace vest underneath. She then lifted the ruffled hem of the dress to confirm her suspicions. “The pink lace vest and ruffled panties, too, I see,” she added. She was a little surprised at how well they fit though. Then she went over, sat down on Rachael’s bed, and patted the bed next to her.
Slowly, I started to come back to life as I came to realize that Mom wasn’t yelling at me. I lowered my foot and both arms and turned to face Mom. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t look at her, so I just looked at the lacy anklets on my feet as I tried to force them to move. It seemed to take an hour to get my feet to take the three steps to get me to the bed. I slowly turned and sat down. Without thinking about what I was doing; I smoothed the back of the dress against my bottom with my hands as I sat.
Edith was surprised as she watched her son smooth the back of the skirt under his bottom as he sat down.
“I see you have been dressing for some time,” she commented. “Most boys would have just plopped down.”
I just sputtered and stammered, not being able to make any coherent words come out of my mouth.
“Well, you have fun dear,” Mom said as she patted my knee. “We should be home about 12:30. Be sure that you have everything put away before we get home, and we’ll talk about this later.” She then leaned over and kissed me on the top of my head, got up and left, closing the bedroom door as she went.
I sat there for what seemed like days before I got up and got undressed. I wished that Mom had not finished zipping up the zipper; it took forever to get it down so I could take off the dress. I was sad as I removed the dress and carefully hung it up, then folded the vest and panties and putting them back in their drawer. I then got dressed in my clothes.
I went into the family room, turned off the TV and then went into my room where I lay down on my bed and started to cry. I knew I was a dead man (or rather a dead boy). Mom would tell Dad, the girls and Chuck. They would tell their friends, and soon everyone at school would know about me dressing in girl’s clothes. ‘OH NO’ I thought. ‘What is going to happen to me once BLACK BART finds out?’ I was shaking with terror as I cried. I don’t know how long I cried, but my pillow was soaked before I finally fell asleep.
“So Mom, what did you forget and why did we park here instead of in the driveway?” Karen asked, when Edith got back to the car.
“Oh I just needed Matt’s measurements. I need to get a few things for him while we are out.”
“Why didn’t you just bring him along?” Rachael wanted to know.
“Not this time dear. Maybe another time” Edith said. As she looked at Rachael in the back seat through the rear view mirror, she winked and Rachael winked back. She finally realized what Mom was doing and who had been playing in her underwear drawer. She also remembered that she had promised her Mom not to talk about it with anyone, so she just sat in the back seat and smiled.
After they were done shopping, they stopped back at the ball diamond to pick up Chuck. “So how did practice go?” Edith asked Chuck.
“Just great Mom, I knocked the ball over the back fence twice and right next to the fence two more times. The team we play next Wednesday night isn’t going to know what hit them,” he beamed.
“That’s terrific! Your father is going to be so proud of you. I know he’s trying to juggle his schedule so he can be at Wednesday night’s game,” Mom said.
“So what all did you guys get at the mall?” Chuck asked the girls.
“Never mind Charles. Just girl’s things,” Mom cut in before either of the girls could answer.
“OK! OK! I don’t need to know the details.”
When they got home and Edith had parked the car, she turned to the kids as they were getting out and said, “Wait just a minute, please. I need to check on something in the house before you come in. Please wait here until I come back out.”
She quickly and quietly went in the house looking for Matt. She found that he was on his bed asleep. From his tear-streaked face, she knew that he had cried himself to sleep. Her heart broke as she realized the pain she had caused her small son; that had not been her intention. She also noticed that he was still wearing his sister’s lace anklets. She quickly got a blanket out of the linen closet and covered him with it, hiding the anklets. She left the room pulling the door closed as she went. Then she went to the car to retrieve the others.
“What’s up with Mom?” Chuck asked the girls as Edith went into the house.
“I don’t know. She has been acting funny all day,” Karen said, and then related the strange chain of events that took place between the time they had dropped him off at the ball diamond and when they picked him up.
Rachael said nothing, as she was bound by her promise to her Mother, and she never broke a promise.
Edith arrived back at the car a few moments later “All right now, let’s get this car unloaded. Oh Charles, Matt is asleep in his bed. Please don’t go in your room right now.” She said.
“But Mom, I need to put away my gear and change out of my uniform.” Chuck protested.
“I will get you some other clothes and you can change in the bathroom.” She said.
“Oh Mom! Sharing a room with Matt is getting to be more and more a pain in the butt every day. I sure wish I had my own room,” Chuck grumbled as he was going to the house.
Later when they were alone, Rachael whispered to her Mom, “It’s Matt, isn’t it.”
Edith nodded and whispered back “Just remember your promise. No one can know about this.”
“I remember, Mom. I won’t tell a soul,” Rachael replied.
Sometime later, I finally woke up; I’m not sure how long I had been sleeping. I rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I didn’t notice the extra blanket or the fact that I had left the bedroom door open and it was now closed. I also failed to notice that I was still wearing Rachael’s lace anklets. My mind was too preoccupied, I was thinking about Mom catching me wearing Rachael’s clothes and was wondering what my future would bring. That’s IF I was going to have a future.
Edith had arranged for Chuck and the girls to spend the rest of the day with friends, as she wanted to have an uninterrupted visit with Matt when he woke up. She moved her favorite chair around so she could read and have an unobstructed view of the hallway leading to the boy’s bedroom. A while later she heard the boy’s door open and looked up to see Matt blindly stagger across the hall and into the bathroom. She marked her place, closed her book and waited for Matt to reemerge.
I was going to go back to my bed to contemplate the various meanings of “Dead Meat” and how they would apply to me when my Dad got home or what would happen when Black Bart found out about . . .
“Hello sleepy head,” Mom called out, shattering the silence.
I was so startled by this that I stumbled and had to grab the nearest doorframe to keep from falling down.
"Matt, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that,” Mom said as she rushed to my side. “I thought that we could have our little talk now. But you might want to change your socks before anyone else comes home.”
It was then that I noticed I was still wearing the lace anklets. I thought I couldn’t cry any more, but was proven wrong as everything came back to me. I slumped to the floor and started crying again. Mom knelt down next to me and started talking to me. I know that words were coming out of her mouth, but I didn’t hear anything except my own sobbing. Mom gently took Rachael’s socks off my feet, folded them together and put them in the pocket of her dress. She finally managed to get me to my feet and helped me into my bedroom. She sat next to me on my bed, holding me close and slowly rocking back and forth. I don’t know how long we stayed like that. Time has no meaning when one is facing extinction, as I thought I was.
After I’d been crying for a while and had started to calm down, I could hear my mother’s sweet and gentle voice. “Calm down, Matt. It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you. Hush now. It’s all right. Everything is going to be all right.” After what seemed like an eternity I moved, but only my head as I slowly looked up into my mothers eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes and the smile on her face helped me to slowly stop crying.
Mom reached into her pocket for the handkerchief, which she was never without. However, the first things that came out of her pocket were Rachael’s anklets. When I saw them I started crying harder again.
“Now stop this,” Mom said gently. “We have to talk before the others get home, and we can’t talk as long as you are crying.”
Slowly I was beginning to realize just how much my mother loved me. By the look on her face and the tone of her voice, and the urgency to talk before anyone else came home I came to the realization that maybe, just possibly my life was not about to come to an end. I nodded, although still sniffling as Mom wiped my eyes with Rachael’s sock.
“So tell me, Matt. How long have you been dressing?” Mom asked.
I just looked at her with a puzzled expressing on my face. “How, how long have I been (sniffle) been what?” I finally said.
“Dressing! That is, dressing as a girl in your sisters clothes.” She said.
“Ah.” I stammered
“Well how long?” She asked again in a very gentle voice.
“Well — Um — I — Um — I guess (sniffle) — Ah — Since I was — Oh geese — I guess about two (sniffle, sniffle) — Um no — Well about three (sniffle) three years — Um I guess.” I finally stammered out as I hung my head. I couldn’t bear to look at Mom. I knew she would be disappointed in me.
Mom slowly lifted my chin so I would have to look into her eyes. When I saw the love in her eyes and the smile on her face, I almost started crying again.
“Now, Now Matt, no more of that.” she said gently with a smile. “We aren’t done yet. Do you remember about a month ago when Rachael was upset with Karen for getting into her things?”
I slowly nodded. “Do you know why Rachael was upset?” Mom asked.
Again, I slowly nodded, not daring to open my mouth out of fear that I might start crying again.
“Matt, did you have Rachael’s pink underwear on that morning?” She asked bluntly.
I started to shake my head, but then changed and nodded. I could never tell my mother a lie. She somehow, seemed to know everything anyway.
“I borrowed them the (sniffle) the night before. I was going to put them (sniffle, sniffle) back but I didn’t have a chance. Then after Rachael got so upset, and everything (sniffle) was so crazy I didn’t even have a chance to change (sniffle, sniffle) change before school.” I blurted out so fast that I couldn’t stop myself.
“You wore them to school that day?” Mom asked. I could tell that she wasn’t shocked. All I could do was nod.
“You must have been really scared, afraid of being caught.” Mom said, holding me close so I wouldn’t start crying again. Then she continued, “Wait a second. Isn’t that the day that you had that big math test, the one that you did so poorly on and couldn’t tell me why?” I slowly nodded and she said. “Well as least now we know why you did so poorly on that test when you usually do a lot better.”
“Matt can you tell me why you have been dressing in your sisters clothes?” she asked and patiently waited for me to answer.
After what seemed like hours I finally opened my mouth “Well I’m not real sure (sniffle). I just know that I like them better (sniffle, sniffle) than my clothes. I feel better when I’m, . . . (sniffle, sniffle) when I’m wearing them. It’s as if those are the clothes (sniffle) that I am supposed to be wearing. I don’t know why I, umm, it just feels right somehow (sniffle, sniffle). Like umm. Oh, I don’t know, just right somehow.” I knew I wasn’t making any sense. How could I tell Mom how I felt when I didn’t know how I felt? I just knew that it was somehow right for me to be in girls’ clothes and wrong to be in boys’ clothes.
Mom thought about what I had said for a while. “Well we need to talk more about this but right now, you had better go and wash your face and I need to start dinner. Your Dad will be home soon and we don’t want him to see that you’ve been crying all afternoon, do we?” she said with a smile. “We’ll keep this just between us for now, OK?”
I looked into the soft blue eyes and knew that she wasn’t going to tell Dad or anyone else. As I realized that I wasn’t going to die today, I gave Mom a hug. Later as I went through the family room into the kitchen, I noticed in Mom’s chair the book she had been reading “Psychology . . . something or other”
A few weeks later, I learned that my mother had been studying, for a Doctorate Degree in Child Psychology, before she met Dad and got married.
I was helping Mom with dinner when the girls got home. I tried to avoid looking at them, thinking that they might know my secret. Just then, Rachael rushed up to me and gave me a big hug and a kiss on my cheek. She didn’t say anything. Mom just looked at her and smiled. Then she went off to her room.
“Now what was that all about?” I whispered to Mom.
“She knows, Dear,” Mom whispered back. Seeing the scared look on my face, she continued. “Don’t worry dear. She has promised to never talk about it with anyone, and you know how Rachael feels about keeping a promise.”
The evening went smoothly, there was the normal “yuck” about having too many veggies from Chuck, “mind your manners” from Dad, and “how was your day?” and so on. Dinner was almost over when Mom, out of the blue started talking to Dad saying, “Dear, you know with all of Charles’s sports equipment, and uniforms and the fact that he will be fourteen in a couple of months. I was thinking that he really needs his own room.”
Chuck stopped in mid-chew, as he started to pay very close attention to the conversation, something he never did.
“What?” Dad sputtered, almost losing what was in his mouth.
“Well, with all of his things, and his desk in that small room, there isn’t any room for Matt,” she said before Dad could continue.
“What are you saying? That we need to buy a new house?” Dad finally got out.
“No, of course not. What I was thinking is that we could finish off part of the basement as a bedroom for Charles. Then he would have the space he needs for his sports equipment, someplace to do his homework, and the privacy that a teenage boy wants.”
“For a minute there I was thinking you wanted a new five bedroom house,” Dad said jokingly
“Well, you never know what Karen might need in a few years,” Mom replied grinning like the Cheshire cat from “Alice in Wonderland.” With the expression on her face, everybody knew that she was teasing Dad.
“Ok, Ok, What did you have in mind?” Dad asked, almost afraid to know the answer.
“Well like I said, there is that room in the basement that we started a while ago. The wall studs are already up, so all we would need is to add a closet and put up some drywall and some paint.” Mom was well into planning the next couple of weekends for Dad, and he knew he was going to have to juggle his work schedule again.
Later that night, I quietly went to Mom to ask her a question. “Mom — Um — all this about moving Chuck into his own room, … Is that really for him, or are you doing it for me?” I whispered into her ear.
Her only reply was a smile that would melt your heart, and tell you how much a mother loves her child.
Three weeks later, all of Chuck’s things were moved into his new room in the basement. Mom, Dad, and Chuck had done a great job of finishing it, and in record time. Chuck had almost twice as much space as he’d had before and he was delighted to have his own room. Through it all, I knew that it also meant that I would get to have my own room, and the privacy that I needed.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 2
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Synopsis:
Or will he be stuck being someone he doesn't want to be?
How much does love and understanding by
someone else affect the outcome?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
For their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 2
About a week after Chuck moved into his new room, Mom arranged for a new chest of drawers for me, as Chuck had taken the drawers that he and I had shared. My new drawers were really, nice. There were six wide drawers in a single column, which was three more than I needed. The top drawer had a lock in it, which was locked for some reason. When I asked mom about it she told me, “Don’t to worry your pretty little head about it.” Now what do you suppose she meant by that?
A couple of days later, as I was getting ready for bed, someone knocked at my door. “Who’s there?” I called out politely.
“Matt, it’s Mother, may I come in?”
“Just a second, Mom,” I said as I quickly finished getting my pajamas on, then opened the door. “Hi Mom what’s up?”
Mom closed the door and sat on my bed. Out of her pocket, she pulled a small key and offered it to me.
“This is the key to your top drawer, Matt. You and I are the only ones that have access to it,” she said, almost whispering and appearing just a little bit nervous.
I slowly took the key and looked at it. It didn’t seem any different from any other key.
“Go ahead Matt, open the drawer. I think you're going to like what you'll find inside,” Mom told me.
I went to my chest of drawers and slowly inserted and turned the key. As I pulled the drawer open, I was greeted by a rainbow of colors. On the left side of the drawer near the front was a stack of neatly folded panties, some pink, white, yellow, red, blue and purple; most of them were covered with lace. Behind the stack of panties was an equally colorful stack of neatly folded vests, but only a few of them had lace on them. Next to the panties and vests were what appeared to be several nightgowns. Most of them were flowing with lace or ruffles, a couple of them had matching panties. On the right side of the drawer were several pairs of lace anklets, knee socks and even a couple pairs of tights, all in an assortment of colors. In the back of the drawer was some sort of mesh material, which I'd never seen before.
“Um mom, why are these in my drawer?” I asked with a very timid voice.
“What’s the matter, Matilda? You don’t like your new selection of underthings and nightwear?” Mom asked with a smile.
“Uh Mom, these are girls underthings, and why are you calling me Matilda?” I asked while absent-mindedly caressing the soft nylon panties.
“Of course they're girls underthings, silly one,” Mom said as she rose from my bed and moved to stand next to me. “And if you had been born a girl you would have been named Matilda instead of Matthias.”
“But I’m a boy and my name is Matthias. And I’m not supposed to like or wear girls underthings. If anyone finds out that I have been . . .” I just couldn’t finish that thought. I started to shake just thinking about what would happen.
Mom gently put her arms around me and moved me back to the bed. Sitting down, she held me close. “Settle down Matilda. It’s okay, just calm down, and don’t start crying on me now.” Her soothing words and the comfort of being held so close was all that kept me from crying.
“Let me talk for a few minutes and you just listen,” she continued. “After our talk a month ago I've done a lot of research. I talked with some friends of mine from the University and I’ve also talked with your teachers. What I found out from your teachers is that this past month you’ve not been doing so well in school. The week before that you did exceptionally well, you were participating in class and in general having fun. The month before that, you did poorly, no participating in class, sad and moody. Before that, you had good weeks and bad weeks. The good weeks were exceptionally good and the bad weeks were just as exceptionally bad. Your teachers are at a loss to understand it. They have no idea what could be causing your attitude and performance to swing so rapidly from one end of the scale to the other. After talking to my friends at the University, then checking the dates that your school performance was good and comparing those dates to when I knew you were dressing in your sisters’ clothes. I discovered they matched. It's just as you said, Dear. You're happier when you wear girl's clothes and sad when you can’t.”
I just sat there, in my mother's arms, while she talked, trying to understand what she was saying. The only part that I really understood was that I was happy when I wore girl's clothes and was sad when I couldn’t.
“But I'm a boy,” I cried softly. “I’m not supposed to like or wear girl's clothes.”
“Well all the evidence points to the contrary. All the research I've done suggests that you have what is clinically known as ‘Gender Dysphoria’ although without some testing and an evaluation by a certified psychiatrist, we can’t be sure. I have arranged for you to see a friend of mine, but she's booked solid for the next few weeks. In the meantime she suggests that you be allowed to freely express your inner self
“What is Gender Dys . . .?” I tried to ask.
“Well, your father would call it ‘Psycho Babble,’ but to put simply it means that in your mind and in you heart, you believe that you're a girl. You are happy when you can dress that way and you are sad, moody and depressed when you can’t,” Mom explained.
“What did you mean when you said that I should be allowed to express my inner self?” I asked.
“It means, that if you feel better when you’re wearing girls underthings then you should be allowed to do so. Therefore, I got you some of your own. That way you won’t have to keep borrowing from your sister. You know your sister Rachael is so smart she figured out it was you playing in her underwear drawer about the same time I did. She's okay with all of this, and even offered to let you borrow her underwear, she loves you so much. I thought it would be best if you had your own. I also added some nightgowns in case you wanted something a little more feminine to sleep in. I suggest that you only wear these things here at home, in the evenings and on the weekends. If by chance someone at school happened to catch you using the restroom wearing girl's panties, there is no way I or anyone else would be able to stop the other kids from teasing you. You understand that, don't you?” Mom cautioned me.
“Oh yes Mom, I understand that. That day when I accidentally had to wear Rachael’s underwear to school, I was so scared; I almost wet my self before I had the nerve to use the public restrooms.” I confessed. “Mom, what’s that odd mesh thing in the back of the drawer?” I had to ask.
“Oh, that’s a laundry bag. After you have taken your nightly shower, don’t put Matilda’s underwear in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. You need to keep putting Matt’s underwear in there. Put Matilda’s underwear in that bag and put it in the small laundry hamper that I’ve put in the back of your closet. Three times each week, while I’m doing laundry, I will come get it and see that your things are washed and returned before anyone else comes home.
I couldn’t help myself as I threw my arms around my mother. “Oh Mom, I love you.” I cried, over and over. I came to realize that my mother understood what I was feeling, even if I didn’t understand it completely. At that moment in time, I was the happiest girl on earth.
“Well, I better leave and let you get ready for bed,” Mom said, grinning as she got up to leave. “You still have school in the morning, so get some sleep.” She kissed me on my forehead before she left.
I locked the door as I looked at the colorful array before me as I stripped off my pajamas and underwear. I finally decided to wear some pink panties with lots of lace. Then I slipped into a knee length pink satin nightgown, with ruffles around the short sleeves and around the bottom. I then crawled into my bed and fell asleep with a smile on my face. I slept so soundly and peacefully that I didn’t hear Mom’s usual wake up knock. In fact, I didn’t wake up until I heard Chuck was pounding on my door, yelling at me to get up, as he was leaving for school.
Mom knocked on my door a few moments later. “May I come in dear?” she asked
“Um, I’m not dressed yet Mom,” I replied.
“That's what I figured dear. I'm assuming you're still in your nightclothes though. Could we talk for just a minute?” she said.
“Is anyone else home?” I asked quietly through the door.
“No Matilda, everyone else has left. It’s just you and me.”
I unlocked the door and slowly opened it.
“I was just wondering how you slept last night and if . . . Oh I see you did take advantage of my gifts,” she said with a smile, as she came into my room and saw what I was wearing.
“I just thought I would try them on. Um, well, actually, Mom, I did sleep like this. Oh, Mom, it felt so wonderful and was just so, dreamy, sleeping in this satin nightgown. I don’t think I woke up once all night,” I said as I floated back to my bed and gracefully sat down. “Mom, I had the most wonderful dream last night. I was in a beautiful gown with lots of flowing lace and ribbons. All my friends were there and we all were having such a wonderful time, there were balloons, cake, and ice cream, and presents and we were all dancing around showing off our pretty dresses. Oh, Mom, I have never been so happy and peaceful, I just didn’t want to wake up.”
“I could tell, Sweetheart. I knocked once, Rachael knocked twice, it finally took Charles pounding on your door to get you to come out of that dream world you were in, but right now, you’re late for school. So you better hurry up and change and I'll take you to school so you’re not too late,” Mom said as she hugged me and left so I could get dressed for school.
Boy's clothes are so yucky. After sleeping in such blissful elegance, I wanted to keep my panties on. Still, I knew that mom was right, if anyone at school caught a glimpse of them, I would be a dead girl before the end of the week.
The next few weeks went by quickly. I would get home from school and immediately change into my nice underwear. Just before getting into bed, I would put on a lovely nightgown to sleep in. As I was spending my evenings and night's dressed in the way I felt the most comfortable, I was becoming happier each day. Mom had to take me to school several times because I just couldn’t seem to wake up on time. Rachael and I developed a special relationship that grew way beyond that of brother and sister. We were “Sisters!” We shared clothes whenever we could. She loved the longer nightgowns that mom had bought for me and I really liked her short Baby Doll nighties with the matching panties. Therefore, we traded back and forth often. During those few weeks, as I enjoyed being Matilda, my grades in school soared. I didn’t even mind that I had to wear boy's clothes during the day, well, not very much, anyway. Everyone noticed a change in me; I was kinder, happier and more helpful to everyone. I even helped Chuck when it was his turn to wash dishes. He was almost in shock.
Then school was out for the summer and I was able to wear my nice underwear all the time. Rachael and I were still trading back and forth. Mom, Rachael and I even went shopping for a few more, frilly, girly things. Rachael and I became inseparable. We were either playing board games or on the computer, (if Chuck wasn’t hogging it), at home by ourselves or with her friends, or mine over at Liberty Park. We seemed to spend a lot more time with Mary Beth and Kimmie. Rachel thought they were more grownup than her friends, (which of course they were). Nevertheless, wherever we were, we were together. Some of our friends’ parents were beginning to think we were twins. I almost didn't mind that they thought of us as twins. After all, we were sharing our clothes, our friends, our days and we were after all, the same physical size.
It was about three weeks after school was out that Mom had arranged for me to meet with her friend from school, Jill Morgan.
“Well, how did it go?” Mom asked as I got into the car after my first meeting with Jill.
“That’s kind of hard to say. Jill was real nice about everything . . . Oh yeah, she said that I should call her Jill instead of Ms. Morgan. Then she asked me about how I felt about you, Dad and then how I felt about Chuck, Karen and Rachael. You know, how we got along and so on. Then we talked about school and my friends there. You know, who I liked to talk with, who I liked to spend time with, stuff like that. We didn’t talk very much about me, or how I feel about things. I thought that's what we were supposed to talk about,” I said. I added. “Oh we did talk about you a little. She said that you were going to school to do what she's doing. Is that right?”
“That’s right, Dear. I was about six months away from my Doctorate degree when Charles was born. After that, I just didn’t want to go to school any more. I just wanted to be with my children,” she answered, kind of lost in thought and memories at the same time. “But anyway, I’m sure that Jill will want to talk more about you and how you feel, the next time you see her.”
“You mean I have to see her again? This wasn’t a one time thing?” I was shocked as I asked that question.
Mom just chuckled as she replied, “Oh Matilda, (by this time mom was calling me Matilda any time we were alone, although she always called me Matt when we were in public. It was kind of confusing). This is definitely not just a one-time thing. You'll be meeting with Jill every week for quite some time. It will take more than just a little time, and some tests to determine if my suspicion is correct.”
"What was it you called it?” I asked.
"What did I call what?"
"That thing . . . You know . . . What it is that you think is wrong with me?” I asked very softly, almost in a whisper.
“Oh no Matilda. You misunderstand. I don’t think there is anything wrong with you,” Mom said as she rested her hand on my knee as she drove. “As I told you before, I think that you have a condition where, although you were born in a boy's body, you actually have the mind, heart and soul of a girl. That’s the best way to describe what it means. It would also explain why you feel better when you dress as Matilda at home and why when you couldn’t, your grades at school dropped. It also explains what happened while we were on vacation last week. You were happy as a lark before we left but were sad and miserable the entire week we were away from home and you couldn’t be yourself. Then when we got back home you were happy as a lark again.”
“Are you telling me that I change that much, just because of what I'm wearing?”
“Yes indeed Matilda. I saw that sad puppy dog look on your face every time Rachael opened her suitcase. You were practically drooling. I'm sorry that you couldn't take any of your things with us, but you know there just wasn't any privacy while we were camping for a week at Zion National Park. Karen and Rachael both noticed how sad you were as well, although Karen doesn’t know why. As for you and Rachael, you've become so close I sometimes think of you two as twin sisters, I even thought of moving her into your room, but only for a second. Your father would flip if I even suggested such an idea,” Mom giggled as she talked about Rachael and me sharing a room.
“Anyway, if your talks with Jill go as I think they will, in about six months, maybe as soon as Christmas, I think we'll be introducing Matilda to Karen, Chuck, and even to your father. What do you think about that?” Mom asked as we pulled into the driveway and parked.
Just the thought of telling my dad had me was shaking like dried leaves on a maple tree in the fall. Mom pulled me over next to her and put her arm around me. “Take it easy, Matilda. We'll build up to that nice and slow, it’s not something we have to do right away. By the time you’re ready, I'll have had a chance to talk to your father and have him softened up to the idea. It’s not going to be any big deal, really. Just settle down and don’t worry about it right now.” She spoke so calmly, and with that voice of hers that could melt your heart, so that I soon forgot about most of my fears.
As we got in the house, Rachael could see that I'd been crying, so she rushed over and gave me a hug. “Matt, why don’t you take Rachael to your room? You can tell her everything that's happened today. I know she feels left out because she had to stay home.”
I looked at Mom wide eyed, surprised by what she'd said. I mean this was some really, heavy stuff even for me, and I’m nine years old, almost ten. But was Rachael ready for me to tell her everything? Mom just smiled at me and nodded, indicating that she knew exactly what she had said and what it meant. I shrugged my shoulders, took Rachael by the hand, and led her to my room so we could talk privately.
“So what’s going on Matt? What’s this all about? Who is this mysterious doctor you went to see?” Rachael was talking a mile a minute as usual.
“Well, umm, let’s start off with the easy stuff. First off, before Mom and Dad got married, Mom was studying to be a ‘Child Psychiatrist’. That's how she was able to read the signals that even I didn’t know I was sending.”
“You mean Mom was going to be a shrink?” Rachael interrupted.
“Yes, and from what Jill says, that’s Jill Morgan she is a friend of Moms, Mom was at the top of her class at the University,” I said after she let me continue.
“So this Jill person is a shrink too. She’s the mysterious doctor you went to see?”
“Umm . . . Yeah . . . That’s right, but that isn’t all, I will be seeing her once a week . . .”
“For how long?” Rachael is just full of questions as she interrupted me again.
“I don’t know how long. Mom says that it will be for a long time, she isn’t sure just how long.” As I said this, I was starting to feel a little sad, which Rachael noticed and gave me another hug.
“Secondly, you know how I like to wear girls clothes and how I act like a girl most of the time. Mom thinks I have a condition called “Genda . . . Gendura . . .” oh; you'll have to ask Mom how to pronounce it. What it means is, that I have a boy’s body but I've got a girl’s brain, at least I think that is what Mom said. Anyway, Jill’s supposed to be able to figure out if that is really what is going on or not.”
“Oh Matt, that must be the case. The only people I know of who are as nice as you are all girls. All the boys that are our ages are all mean, rowdy, brats and bullies.” I got another hug from Rachael as she said that.
“Anyway that’s why Mom got me the girl's underwear and nightgown's. Jill told her that she should get them for me, in order to help me get in touch with my inner feelings. I need to be able to dress as my feelings dictate, as Jill put it. So I guess that means that we can keep swapping clothes, at least for a while.”
“That’s great, Matt! Mom bought you some really nice stuff, so much nicer than a lot of mine.” Rachael was giggly as she said this.
“There are a couple of other things. Umm, Rachael, when we’re alone I would like umm . . . I mean would you mind umm . . .”
“Well it can’t be that bad, Matt. Just spit it out”
“Well . . . When we’re alone would you call me Matilda?” I said, very fast just to get it out.
“Oh Matt that’s a wonder . . . — oops sorry. Matilda's a wonderful name. Did you come up with it?”
“No, Mom did actually. She told me that if I had been born a girl, they'd have named me Matilda. Mom started calling me Matilda a couple of months ago and um . . . I really like it,” I said with a smile.
Rachael just smiled as she sat there thinking.
“Oh there is one more thing. Mom said that maybe in about six months I might be able to introduce Matilda to Karen and Chuck; and then even t - to D - D - Dad.” I was shaking again as I said that. Rachael knew I was scared of Dad, and why. She hugged me for a long time.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. “Matt, Rachael, dinner’s ready.” Mom called through the door.
“Mom, could you come in please?” Rachael said, as I was still shaking with fear from thinking about how Dad would react to all this.
Mom opened the door and came in. Seeing the condition I was in, she closed the door and came over to the bed. Rachael let go of me as mom put her arms around me.
“What happened to cause this?” she asked.
“Matilda was telling me that she would have to introduce herself to Dad. She fell apart after that,” explained Rachael.
“Oh Matilda its OK. You need to stop this now. Just put this business of your father out of your mind.” Mom was rocking me gently as she was talking. “Your father isn’t really as mean as you think he is.”
“B - But Mom, r - remember last fall when Chuck and I were playing ball in the back yard, when I hit the ball through the kitchen window? R - Remember how mad D - Dad was that day. He picked me up, carried me into my room and threw me onto my bed. Two of the boards that hold the springs broke that day,” I stammered, as I reminded her of that incident.
“Well, it just means that I have a lot of work to do to get him ready to accept this,” Mom said with a voice of confidence. "In the meantime you two better get washed up for dinner before your brother eats it all,” she chuckled.
The next few weeks were just great and went by real fast. I saw Jill every week, we talked a lot about me and how I feel, about lots of different things. She had me take several tests. I don't mind multiple-choice questions on tests, but I really hate essay questions. She even had me go to the hospital and have some blood taken for some tests there.
About two weeks before school was to start, I received an invitation to Mary Beth’s birthday party. Actually, Rachael received the invitation. It was going to be the Saturday just before school started. The invitation was actually addressed to Rachael and Matilda.
When Mom saw the invitation, she almost flipped. “I thought we were keeping Matilda a secret until Christmas?” Mom said excitedly, forgetting that Karen was in the room.
“Who’s Matilda?” Karen asked casually.
“Nobody special,” Mom said quickly “She’s just a friend of Matt’s”
“So why is she a secret?” Karen asked now that her curiosity was aroused.
“Never mind Karen. We’ll talk about her later,” Mom said, leaving the room.
“Boy, I just don’t know what’s going on around here any more. First Chuck gets that great big room in the basement. Then Matt starts seeing this mysterious doctor every week. Now he has some secret girl friend. I just don’t know what’s going on any more,” Karen was muttering to herself as Rachael and I left the family room.
Latter that evening mom ushered Rachael and I into my room and closed the door. “All right how did Mary Beth find out about Matilda?”
“Well,” Rachael started, “you know how much time Matilda and I have been spending together. We have also been spending a lot of time with Mary Beth and Kimmie. And umm well . . . it just sort of slipped out one day.”
“What slipped out, tell me everything.”
“About two weeks ago” I continued with the story, “Rachael and I were playing on the swings over at Liberty Park. Nobody else was around and so Rachael was calling me Matilda just as she always does. Then Mary Beth came into the park and started swinging too. Well, Rachael asked me a question, only she forgot to switch back. She called me Matilda in front of Mary Beth. Of course, Mary Beth wanted to know why Rachael had called me Matilda. By then some others kids were playing on the swings as well, so we went to another part of the park where we could talk privately.”
“It was my fault,” Rachael jumped in. “Before Matilda could stop me I kind of, well, told Mary Beth everything.”
“At first, Mary Beth thought that Rachael was just joking with her,” I said. “Then she looked over at me and saw that I was blushing and looked really embarrassed. Then she looked back at Rachael and saw that she was serious. Then she looked back at me. I was looking at the ground by then and almost in tears. She took one of my hands into hers and gently used her other hand to lift my chin, so she could look into my eyes. She spoke so softly, just like you do Mom when I'm about to cry. She said that she always knew there was something special about me. From that first day in Kindergarten, anytime that we were together she could feel that I was different somehow. She’d just never figured out what it was. She said that she could sense that I wasn't quite what I appeared to be, and she just knew that I needed more love than most other people did. Then she gave me a hug. She giggled when she asked what I was wearing under my shirt and pants. I pulled out my shirttail and showered her the purple vest I was wearing. She asked if I was wearing matching panties and I shyly nodded. Mary Beth has been calling me Matilda ever since.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you didn’t take your pants off in the park.” Mom said jokingly. “I'm very surprised by this whole story. I’m also very disappointed that you two didn’t come to me and tell me about it when it happened. You know we have to be very careful about who we let in on our secret. Right now, I think there’s only four on the list of people who know about Matilda. That's you Rachael and me of course, there’s Jill, and now Mary Beth. Are there any others that I don’t know about?”
We both shook our heads.
“Well, what about this birthday party invitation? Is it in Mary Beth’s hand writing?” Mom asked.
“I hadn’t thought about that.” I said as I got the invitation out of my drawer and looked at it again. “Umm, no, Mom that isn’t Mary Beth’s hand writing. I guess it is probably her mother's,” I said, looking and sounding a little scared.
“Ok, you two relax. I’m going to give Jean Phelps a call and try to find out how much she knows without giving anything else away. Then I’m going to give Jill a call and see what she says about all of this. Why don’t you two get ready for bed and I’ll let you know what I find out?” With that, Mom took the invitation and left.
“Do you think Mary Beth told her mom everything?” Rachael asked.
“I don’t know. We did tell her not to tell anybody else, didn’t we?” I asked in return.
Neither one of us could remember what we’d told Mary Beth about keeping it to herself.
“Well I better go to my room and get ready for bed. You need to change and go take your shower,” Rachael said as she got up and left.
I just sat there for a long, long, time thinking, wondering if anybody else knew about Matilda. It didn’t bother me to be Matilda, because that's who I am. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to tell the rest of the people in my world about me. I knew that Chuck would probably laugh his head off before he told all of his friends. They would make my life miserable after they found out. I couldn’t help it as I started to cry. Lightly at first, but the more I thought about what would happen as other people found out, the worse it got. Finally, I just fell over on my bed and hugged my pillow as I sobbed. Rachael must have knocked on my door, but I didn’t hear it. A little later, both she and Mom came back in. I don’t know what I would have done if my mother weren’t so kind and understanding. After all, she seemed to know me better than I knew myself. She almost knew when I was going to be sad and cry, before I did. I was beginning to think that she was psychic, or maybe "The Good Witch from the North."
Mom held me until I stopped crying. I was so drained that she helped me get ready for bed. Well actually she got me ready for bed, I just sat on the edge of my bed in a daze as she took off my clothes and put a nightgown on me, then tucked me into bed.
The next day after Chuck and Karen had left to play with friends and Dad was at work, Mom filled us in on what she had found out.
“Well you two are really lucky. According to Jean Phelps, Mary Beth’s mother, she was just writing out the invitations and putting the names on the cards just as Mary Beth gave her. When she asked Mary Beth who Matilda was, she just said that she was a dear friend that was new to the area. She said that Mary Beth didn't know how to get in touch with her but that Rachael did. So Jean said that was fine, and put both names on the one invitation,” Mom told us.
“Then I called Jill to see what she thought of the idea of Matilda going to a girl’s birthday party. She thought for a while before giving me an answer, but she thinks it might be good for Matilda to go. So far, you haven’t done anymore than wearing girl's underwear, pretending to be a girl. Jill thinks that this will be a good experience to see if you’re willing to go all the way and be a girl. It would only be for a few hours, but she thinks the experience will be good for you, assuming that the environment can be controlled.”
“What do you mean by the environment being controlled?” I asked as I was starting to get nervous again.
“Well, it means that we would have to know where the party will be, what activities are planned, who else will be there and can we control the situation if something goes wrong,” Mom explained. “So after I talked with Jill, I called Jean back to get a little more information. The party is planned to be in there home. There will be eight girls besides the two of you. They are planning a Ping-Pong tournament and some other indoor games. There will of course be balloons, cake and ice cream. It sounded like we would be able to keep things low key, so I told Jean that you’d both be going.” Mom said with a smile. "I also volunteered to help out, just to help keep things under control. Jean said that would be great and she would appreciate the help, so I'll be there to keep an eye on both of you."
“But Mom, I can’t go to a girls’ birthday party I don’t look like a girl. What will happen when all the other girls see me in a dress, with you, Rachael and Mary Beth calling me Matilda?” I was starting to shake and my eyes were starting to fill with tears again. I really wanted to go but couldn't see any possible way.
“Now Matilda, you stop this right now,” Mom said sternly, as she put her arms around me. “You knew that this day was going to come sooner or later. You knew that for you to discover your inner feelings you’re going to have to dress completely as a girl and be seen in public.”
I just nodded. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I’d start crying.
“All right then. We’ve two weeks to turn you into a girl. Rachael will help you and I'll be here to teach you everything that you need to know on how to be a girl. Everyday, for the next two weeks you’ll dress as a girl and we’ll get you a wig so you’ll have long hair like a girl. Jill also told me about some other people that we can call on if we need help. Well Matilda, the question is up to you now. Do you honestly see yourself as a girl? That is, in your mind and in your heart are you really a girl, or are you just a boy pretending to be a girl for fun?” With that, Mom let go of me. She stepped back and she pulled Rachael back as well. They left me standing alone on my own to deal with my thoughts and feelings. They just stood there not saying a word, just looking at me.
It was hours that we stood there, looking at each other, while I was searching my feelings. Actually, it was probably only a few minutes, but it seemed like hours.
Finally, I looked into Rachael’s eyes and started a little smile. Then I looked up into Mom’s eyes and my smile got bigger.
“I'm Matilda!” I proclaimed. “I know it in my heart and in my soul. I don’t like how I feel when I have to pretend to be Matt. I’m Matilda, that’s who I am and who I want to be!”
Both Mom and Rachael rushed over to me and hugged me.
“You’re sure about this?” Mom asked. “This decision will be final. After this, we’ll turn you into a girl. I just want you to be sure that this is what you want.”
“Absolutely!” I said, as I hugged my mother and sister.
“Okay, you two go get dressed to go out. We’ll stop and see Jill for some information. Then we'll be getting everything we’ll need to turn you into a full-time girl,” Mom said as she let go of Rachael and I. Then she was off to call Jill and tell her my decision and that we were on our way to see her.
Rachael was still hugging me, as Mom left. “Oh, Matilda, it was so hard to stay with Mom, leaving you standing there alone. It seemed like hours before you knew what you wanted.”
“Well actually, I’ve known for some time that I want to be Matilda. I just didn’t know if I was ready to stop being Matt any more.”
“Well anyway, I’m really going to love having a big sister around.”
“What about Karen? She’s really your big sister.”
“Well, she is my older sister, but she acts like a tomboy so much, it’s almost like having another big brother. I mean she won’t wear anything that would make her look like a girl. I’m not sure, but I think that in Heaven when they were assigning bodies, you and Karen got swapped.” Rachael said quietly, with an evil little grin and giggle.
“Oh Mom, are we still going to wait until Christmas to tell Dad about this?” I asked as we pulled out of the driveway. I was starting to get nervous again.
“Oh yes, I almost forgot about your father. I haven’t had the time to prepare him for this change. Ok you will only be a daytime girl until I can talk to your father. This will complicate things a bit, but we’ll manage somehow.” She said.
When we got to Jill’s office, Mom left us in the car, as she was just getting some information. Then we were off to see a friend of Jill’s, someone Mom said, that could help me.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Notes:
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 3
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Themes:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Synopsis:
I didn't know that shopping could be so terrifying.
Story:
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 3
Our first stop of the day was at a very nice house on South Temple. Mom pulled up the driveway and around to the back of the house. We all got out and Mom knocked on the door of what appeared to be a four-car garage. A very attractive lady opened the door.
“Hello.”
“Hello, I’m Mrs. Covington,” Mom said politely.
“Oh yes. Good morning Mrs. Covington. Jill Morgan called and said you would be coming by. I’m Amanda Reynolds, and this must be Rachael and Matilda,” said Mrs. Reynolds. “Hum,” she said, as she looked closely at me. “Yes I can see her in there. Well, we will just have to see what we can do about coaxing Matilda to come out and play, won’t we. Please come in.”
‘Now what does she mean by that,’ I thought to myself.
Mrs. Reynolds held the door open as we entered. Inside I saw several chairs, like the ones in a barbershop, with mirrors behind them. There were some other chairs with what looked like big steel eggs mounted to the back of them. There were two more chairs in front of sinks with notches cut in them. Along one wall were several rows of heads made out of foam. Each head had a different wig on it. Some were long, some short, and lots of different colors. Behind us, there was a small waiting area with chairs, and a table with magazines on it.
After we were in and Mrs. Reynolds closed the door, she turned to Mom and asked, “Well now Mrs. Covington, what did you have in mind?”
“I beg your pardon?” Mom asked.
“I’m sorry, please let me start over. As I said, Jill called me this morning and told me to expect you. She told me that Matilda is just starting to transition and was in need of a complete makeover. I was wondering if you had a particular look or style in mind for her,” Mrs. Reynolds said apologizing.
“I’m terribly sorry Mrs. Reynolds, I misunderstood your question. Yes, Matilda is starting to transition and both girls have been invited to a birthday party Saturday after next. Jill thinks it would be good for Matilda to go, completely dressed as a young lady. I've volunteered to help with the party, so I'll be there if there is any problem. Only one other girl knows about Matilda and we'd like to keep it that way. Oh, and please, call me Edith,” Mom said.
“Very well, Edith. Please call me Amanda. Now as for Rachael, I would recommend just a touch of makeup to highlight those lovely cheekbones and just a touch of rouge for color. Do you think you would want a new hairstyle for her? Also, have you selected the girl's dresses yet?”
“Actually no we haven’t even looked at dresses yet. As for Rachael’s hair, I hadn’t even thought about it. We've been concentrating so much on Matilda that I hadn’t thought about Rachael,” confessed Mom.
“Well, I was just wondering if you’d thought of them going as twins. Making them up as twin sisters should be very easy. They both have the same beautiful features, the same complexion, and the same smile. Oh look, they even blush the same,” Mrs. Reynolds said, as we were both blushing from all the attention and the references to being twins.
“Well actually, Matilda is a year and a half older than Rachael,” Mom corrected with a giggle. “I think we should make Matilda look a little older. Sisters, yes, but not twins.”
“Very well, what about Matilda’s hair color? Do you want to stay with the blonde or would you be open to other options?” Mrs. Reynolds asked.
“Oh I don’t know? I hadn’t considered that there were other options. I've just always seen her as a blonde,” Mom said.
“Of course we can match a wig to her blode hair until it grows out enough to be styled on its own. I was just wondering if you wanted to look at other options. There are a lot of colors and styles to choose from,” said Mrs. Reynolds pointing to the wall of heads.
“I just don’t know. Matilda, what do you think?” Mom asked me.
“Well, finally one of you is asking me what I want,” I said, sounding a bit agitated.
“I’m sorry dear. Here we are discussing your future and not even stopping to ask what you want,” Mom said, looking a little embarrassed.
“Forget it Mom, I am just a little overwhelmed by this whole thing and probably being a little over sensitive as well. As far as hair goes, every one knows that Matt has blond hair. If I wear a blond wig, I'll just look like Matt with long hair. I think a dark brown or black like dad and Karen might work better for me,” I said
“Very good Matilda,” said Mrs. Reynolds. “Why don’t you climb up into the first chair and we will get started. Edith did you bring Matilda some other clothes?”
“No, we didn’t. Why?” Mom asked.
“Well, when we’re all done with her today, Matilda will look out of place wearing these boy’s T-shirt and jeans,” explained Mrs. Reynolds.
“Oh you're so right. I hadn’t even thought about that,” Mom said.
“Well there are two options. One, you can leave these two angels here. I will get their makeup and hairstyles sorted out while you run down to the Crossroads and get something appropriate. If you don’t feel comfortable with that, there is option two. We could have one of my daughters go through their closets and see what they can find that they have outgrown, that would fit Matilda. You could bring it back later,” said Mrs. Reynolds
“Not to seem impolite or ungrateful, but I think I would prefer the second option.” Mom said.
“No problem at all. If I were in your place I would be hesitant to leave my children with someone that I'd met only ten minutes before.” With that, Mrs. Reynolds went to the phone and made a call. “Hello, could I speak to Susan please. Hello Susan, we have a bit of an interesting problem, would you come over to the shop please? Yes, that would be fine dear. See you then, goodbye, Sweetheart.” Mrs. Reynolds hung up the phone and came back to where I was sitting. “That’s my daughter Susan over in the main house. She will be over in about half an hour. I want her to see Matilda so she will be able to judge her size.”
“You’re a lucky young lady,” Mrs. Reynolds said to me as she turned the chair so I was facing the mirrors. “Some of my clients didn’t figure out who they wanted to be until much later in life. You will still be able to experience most of your childhood as a young lady. Let's start with your hair shall we? Then we can do your makeup to compliment your complexion and your new hair color and style.”
With that, Mrs. Reynolds went over to the wall with all the heads and selected two heads. She put them on the counter in front of me and then she got two more.
“Let’s start with a hair style and then you can decide on the hair color you want,” Mrs. Reynolds explained as she began the process of transforming me into a girl. She tried several wigs on me with all of us discussing what we liked and didn’t like about each one. We finally settled on a style that had full thick bangs, with just a little bit of curl, they were long enough that they almost covered my eyebrows. The sides and back were much longer; they came about halfway down my back and had a lot more curl at the bottom than the bangs did. The color we finally decided on was a light brown. One, it seemed to match my complexion better than something darker. Two, when my hair grows long enough to be styled; changing back to my normal color wouldn’t be so noticeable. With the hair style and color decided, it was time to start on my makeup. For this Mrs. Reynolds asked Mom to come over and take a more active part, as she would have to teach me over the next two weeks how to apply my own makeup.
About that time, the door opened and a very lovely oriental girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old came in.
“Hello, Susan,” said Mrs. Reynolds, looking up. “I would like you to meet the Covington’s. This is Edith,” she said waving a hand towards Mom. “And over there is Rachael,” she said pointing to Rachael, who was seated in the waiting area reading a magazine, Rachael waved. “And this, is Matilda!” she said as she turned the chair so I was facing Susan instead of the mirrors.
“Hello everyone, I’m very pleased to meet you,” Susan said with a smile.
“Susan, what we need is some other clothes for Matilda,” Mrs. Reynolds said. “After all, a lovely young lady can’t be seen around town in a boy’s T-shirt and jeans, now can she?"
“Of course not, Mother. Could she stand up so I can get a better look at her, then I can guess at her size?” Susan asked.
Mom and Mrs. Reynolds helped me out of the chair and I took a couple of steps toward Susan, while she walked around and looked me over carefully.
“Dress or slacks?” Susan asked me.
“Oh, dress please, if possible,” I replied
“Tights, knee highs’, or anklets?” Susan asked.
“Well anklets, with lace if possible. But I guess that would depend on the shoes,” I replied.
Susan looked at me with a look of disbelief! “Aren’t you a little old for lacy anklets?” She asked.
“Well maybe I am, but I still like them. In fact I like almost anything that has ruffles or lace,” I replied.
“Mom, is Matilda another one of you special clients?” Susan asked her mother.
“Yes, she is, Dear!” replied Mrs. Reynolds.
“Well that explains it,” Susan said. “What about shoes?” Susan asked; a general question for anyone to answer.
“Well what ever you can find, Dear I’m sure will be fine,” said Mrs. Reynolds.
Susan came up to me and whispered in my ear, “What about underwear?”
“I’m okay there,” I whispered back.
“With lace, I presume,” Susan whispered. I nodded. “It figures,” she said shaking her head.
“Well I’ll see what I can find, Mom. Be back in a few minutes.”
“Thanks Susan, you’re a dear.” Mrs. Reynolds told her daughter as she was leaving.
“Amanda, could you answer a couple of questions for me?” Mom asked.
“Certainly Edith, if I can.”
“Susan isn’t you biological daughter is she?”
“No, Susan was adopted by my husband and I when she was two, as were our other two daughters. You see, you don't have to be born female to have children,” said Mrs. Reynolds.
We were all shocked by what Mrs. Reynolds had just said.
“You mean that you’re . . .” Mom started to ask.
“Yes Edith. I’m transgendered. I was born male, and like Matilda here, I discovered that I was really meant to be female. I transitioned when I was fifteen. My father almost had a heart attack the first time he saw me in a dress. You see, in the mid 60’s, being TG was worse than being a black man on an all white bus in Georgia. “Boys wear boy’s clothes and girls wear girl’s and neither should dress like the other,” my dad would tell me. I was lucky that he didn’t send me to a military school in Vermont. They did send me to live with an old maid aunt in Delta, so I wouldn’t “Embarrass the family.” Even living with my aunt, life was no picnic. I couldn’t go to school, well not any longer than half a day. You see, I wasn’t permitted to use the girls’ restroom and I wouldn’t use the boys. I tried once, I was lucky to escape with my life, but my clothes were shredded. I had no rights under the law at all. The boys who attacked me were never reprimanded in any way. I was considered a “Non-Person. The only one who cared about me at all was my aunt. She helped me finish High School at home. She even arranged for me to get into the finest beauty school in the state. Now I help others with what I've learned. No one should have to go through what I went through.” Mrs. Reynolds was almost in tears as the memories of her past flooded into her conscious mind. She stopped there and wiped her eyes.
Turning to me she said, “Your life is going to be so much easier than mine was. You have a loving mother and sister that are here to help you through what lies ahead. I’m almost jealous of you. There are so many of us around now, that will help you, too.” There were tears in Mrs. Reynolds eyes as she gave me a hug, but these were definitely tears of joy.
“Well, Edith, did you have any other questions?” Mrs. Reynolds asked Mom as she stood back up.
“Well, Susan referred to Matilda as one of your special clients?” Mom asked.
“Yes I have many TG clients. Jill refers one or two TG people to me, each year, as do several other therapists. Probably half of my regular customers are TG,” replied Mrs. Reynolds.
Mom was in shock as she realized how many transgendered people there must be in this area. She told me this later.
“Well now, let’s get your make up sorted out, shall we?” said Mrs. Reynolds as she helped me back up into the chair. Mom came over and they tried several different things, wiping off and starting over again. They did this several times. The application that they were happy with was actually very little makeup. Some blue eye shadow to accent my blue eyes, some mascara to bring out and darken my eyelashes, some pink lipstick (they tried lots of other colors but only a few light shades work with the rest of my face), and medium rouge.
“Mom, now I’m jealous. I want to wear makeup too,” complained Rachael.
“When you’re ten, we’ll talk about you using makeup young lady,” Mom said.
“But Matilda isn’t ten.” Rachael said.
“All right, when you’re nine and three quarters we’ll talk about you wearing makeup.” Mom consented with a smile.
Rachael was still put out by this. After all she and Matilda were about the same size. “But you keep telling us how much like twins we are. If Matilda gets to wear makeup then why can’t I?” was Rachael’s’ final argument.
Mom went over and knelt down next to the chair where Rachael was. “You’re right, Sweetheart. You two are almost twins. I’ll tell you what. You help Matilda learn to be the best girl she can be and for Mary Beth’s birthday party you can both wear makeup.” Mom knew that Rachael would help me all she could anyway, but that would make her feel so much more a part of what was going on. Rachael smiled from ear to ear and gave Mom a huge hug.
“You bet, Mom. We want Matilda to be the very best girl at the party,” Rachael said as she was hugging Mom.
Just then, Susan came back in with several dresses hung over one arm and a bag in the other hand.
“I hope that something here works for you Matilda.” She said as she crossed to where I was sitting. Susan wasn’t really paying attention, because of the armload of clothes she was carrying. “WOW! Matilda you look great!” she said when she stopped and looked at me. “I can see that two of these dresses are definitely out. They are too dark and plain.” She started sorting through the dresses she had brought over. “Hum, why don’t you try this one on?” She held up a long blue satin dress with a lace overlay across the bodice, puffy sleeves and a shear over skirt. It had a sewn in petticoat so it was puffy just hanging by itself. I could just imagine how it would look on me.
“OH THAT’S BEAUTIFUL!” I almost shouted as I hopped out of the chair. “Where can I go to try it on?” I asked excitedly.
“What’s wrong with right here?” Mom asked, “There’s nobody here but us girls.”
I’m sure I turned three different shades of red, as Mom was giggling.
“B — B — But Mom. You know that I’ve never changed clothes with anyone else around before,” I whispered softly.
“That’s all right, Matilda,” said Mrs. Reynolds. “You can use the restroom to change your clothes. Honestly Edith, stop teasing the girl like that.”
Both Mom and Mrs. Reynolds were giggling now.
“Here let’s take your wig off so you can take off that T-shirt first. Then you can go change into the dress. It has buttons all the way down the back so one of us will have to help you with them when you come out,” said Mrs. Reynolds, as she took out the bobby pins holding the wig to my hair and lifting it off.
I quickly took off the T-shirt, suddenly revealing the pink lace vest I was wearing.
Rachael whistled at me teasingly.
“Oh, hush up, Sis, you’re just jealous.” I told her I picked up the dress and went into change. I hung the dress on the hook that was on the back of the door. Quickly I kicked off my sneakers and dropped my jeans. I took down the dress and stepped into it, gently pulling the waist up around my waist. I carefully put my arms through the sleeves, one at a time, pulling each shoulder up into place. Suddenly I was in heaven. It felt so soft, elegant actually. I had never worn anything that seemed so . . . perfect. I was right about how the skirts would flare out with the sewn in petticoat. I simply loved this dress. I was gently caressing the dress, drifting off into another world, when there was a knock at the door pulling me out of my dream world.
“Is everything okay in there?” Mom asked.
I opened the door slowly. “Sorry Mom. Yes, everything’s okay. As a matter of fact, everything is just wonderful.” I said as I stepped out. Mom did the buttons up the back of the dress and Mrs. Reynolds brought my wig over and set it back on my head. Mrs. Reynolds took one of my hands, and Mom took my other and they led me back out the main room.
The magazine that Rachael was reading fell to the floor. Susan dropped the shoes and socks she was holding. They both had their mouths open about a foot.
“She’s gorgeous!” Susan finally said.
“Mom, am I going to look that good in two years?” Rachael asked.
“Oh stop it you two,” I said.
Mom and Mrs. Reynolds were giggling as they turned me around so I could see myself in the full-length mirror behind me.
The next thing I remember is being held in my Mother’s arms as she was gently trying to get me to wake up. Slowly I came around and opened my eyes to see a worried look on her face.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You fainted, Dear.”
“I what?”
“You fainted.”
“Mom, who was that girl standing between you and Mrs. Reynolds?”
“That was you Matilda. Don’t you remember? You came out of the restroom, I did up the buttons on the back of the dress and Amanda put your wig back on and we walked you out. Then you saw your reflection in the mirror and you fainted.” Mom said
“But, that can’t be . . .” I said slowly as everything started to come back into my mind.
I’m not sure, but I think I blacked out again. I remember that my mother was still holding me, but everyone else suddenly changed places.
“Well, hello again,” Mom said. I looked up at her and she was smiling down at me. “If you don’t stop that, I am going to put a stop to this whole thing right now. I can’t have you passing out every few minutes.”
I tried to get up, but Mom held me tightly. “Oh no you don’t, young lady. You’re not going anywhere until Jill has had a chance to talk with you,” she said, “Especially nowhere near any mirrors.”
“Jill is coming here?” I asked.
“That’s right. When you fainted, I picked you up and brought you in here. After you blacked out the second time, I had Amanda call Jill. She’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. While we’re waiting though, let’s get your feet dressed.” Mom said, motioning for Rachael to bring over the anklets and shoes that Susan had brought over with the dress. As I sat on Mom’s lap Rachael took off my tube socks and put on some white anklets with blue lace. Then she slipped a pair of white Mary Jane’s onto my feet, which had about an inch and a half heel.
“Thank you Rachael,” I said sincerely, not sure, if I would have been able to do that myself as I was still shaken a little by recent events.
“Hey, no problem, Sis, glad to help out. Just remember, you may be the pretty one, but I’ve got the brains,” Rachael said while giggling.
“That’s enough of that Rachael. Now go and get changed,” Mom told her with a giggle.
“Changed for what?” I asked Mom.
“Amanda and I thought it would be fun to play a little trick on Jill. Being that she has never seen Rachael and how much alike you two are. We are having Rachael change into the jeans and T-shirt that you were wearing. Then Amanda is going to put a blond wig on her and do her makeup identical to yours. When Jill gets here you, two will be sitting side by side. It will be interesting to see which one of you Jill calls Matilda,” Mom explained, as Rachael was getting ready.
About ten minutes later Rachael was ready and she and I were sitting in the waiting room reading 'Seventeen.' Now was that wishful thinking or are we trying to rush things a bit.
About five minutes later the door opened and Jill came in. She saw Mom and Mrs. Reynolds first. “Hi Edith, Amanda, where’s Matilda?” Jill asked.
“She’s in the waiting room with her sister Rachael. We thought it best to keep her away from any mirrors until you've had a chance to talk with her,” Mom said.
“Wise move. Has she been alone since she fainted?” asked Jill.
“Not for a second. They’re in here,” Mom said, as she led Jill into the waiting room. Amanda was following close behind.
Jill took two steps into the waiting room and stopped dead in her tracks. Rachael and I looked up as they came in and smiled at everyone. Jill just looked at us for a few seconds, then looked over at Mom, and finally back at us. Jill studied us both for a few more seconds before moving.
Then she stood in front of Rachael. “Matilda?” she questioned.
Slowly I raised my right hand. “I’m over here,” I said softly.
Jill sat down quickly, on the only thing available, the table with the magazines. I don’t think she could have made it to a chair. She looked at me, then at Rachael, then at me again. All the time she was shaking her head.
“I’ve been set up,” Jill finally said as she turned to look at Mom and Mrs. Reynolds.
They couldn’t keep themselves from laughing any more and they both broke into hysterical laughter.
“You were indeed,” Mom said between bouts of laughter.
“Well. I don’t think we need to worry about anyone thinking that Matilda is a boy,” Jill said as she continued shaking her head.
“There was an emergency here wasn’t there? You didn’t call me away from another patient just to confuse me, did you?” Jill said, still suffering from shock and amazement at how I looked.
“Yes Jill there is. Like I told you on the phone, when Matilda saw herself in the mirror she curled up her toes and blacked out. If Edith and I had not been holding her hands she would have hit this tile floor pretty hard,” Mrs. Reynolds explained.
“Yes and after she blacked out the second time I didn’t want to take her anywhere. I wanted her to talk with you before we left here,” Mom added.
“Excellent thinking, Edith. Amanda, do you have an office or somewhere we could talk privately for a little while?” Jill asked.
“Of course, come this way.” Mrs. Reynolds started to lead us to her office, and then stopped suddenly. “What do you want to do about the mirrors?” she asked Jill.
“Matilda,” Jill said as she turned and looked at me. “Do you trust me?”
“Yeess,” I answered slowly.
“Please take my hand,” Jill said, and I did. “Now Matilda, I want you to close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you to open them. I won’t let you get hurt in any way, okay dear?”
I looked into her eyes and I could see almost the same love for me that I have seen so many times in my Mother’s eyes. I smiled at her, gave her both of my hands, and closed my eyes.
“That’s an answer!” Jill said with a smile, as she led me to Mrs. Reynolds office.
We talked for almost an hour before coming out to see the others. We were laughing and giggling as we came out.
“Is everything all right now?” Mom asked.
“Yes Mom, everything is just fine,” I said as I went and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. “It was just the first time I really saw myself as Matilda. I guess Matt was trying to fight with me a little. Well, all right Matt was fighting a lot. That part of my personality was afraid that it was going to die. Jill helped me to see that there aren’t two personalities fighting for control, but two sides of one personality. There always have been two sides of me, one side of me that's Matt and one side of me that's Matilda. There are always going to be two sides, but with some help from Jill we will both become stronger as a single individual.”
“I think we need to have a party today!” I said after looking at myself in the mirror, for more than just a few seconds.
“What’s the occasion?” Rachael asked cheerfully.
I smiled as I turned around to face everyone, then I held both arms out wide.
“We need a party,” I said confidently, “Because it’s August 10th. That makes today Matilda’s Birthday!”
Mom and Rachael rushed into my open arms. Jill and Mrs. Reynolds just stood back and applauded.
“Well Edith, with this morning’s excitement, are you going to be able to see Ellen Hansen today?” Jill asked, after things settled down.
“Oh not today, I think we are just going to get some lunch and do a little shopping and call it a day. Chuck and Karen usually get home about 4:00 p.m. and David gets home about 5:30. We need to be home with everything hidden away before 4:00,” Mom told Jill.
“Very well Edith. I will call Ellen and tell her to expect you about 9:30 tomorrow morning, is that time okay?” Jill asked. Mom just nodded. Jill said goodbye to us all as she left.
“Well we had better be running along, too. Amanda, this has truly been an eye opening experience as well as a genuine pleasure.” Mom told Mrs. Reynolds. “What do we owe you for your services today?”
“Edith, the first time is on me. Like I said, there are a lot of us around who are willing to help. You be sure to bring them both back a week from Friday and I’ll spruce up Matilda’s wig and I’ll do something nice with Rachael’s hair as well,” said Mrs. Reynolds with a smile.
“Amanda we couldn’t. That wig alone . . .,” Mom was saying as Mrs. Reynolds interrupted.
“Edith, please. This is how I help others. Don’t deny me the privilege of helping this beautiful young girl find herself. Nothing brings me greater joy than helping others, like ourselves, discover there true self,” said Mrs. Reynolds. “Besides, the expenses for you are just beginning. Matilda needs makeup and a completely new wardrobe. By the way, here is a list telling you what colors we used today that looked good on Matilda. Most cosmetic counters should have these shades by several different manufactures.”
“Oh Amanda, you’re an angel,” Mom said.
“No, but I know one. If you are ever traveling around the Georgia area let me know and I will arrange for you to meet a true angel, Angel O’Hare.” Mrs. Reynolds said, with a far away look that told you she was remembering a very dear friend.
With that, we said our good byes and left. I couldn’t believe how different things looked; the whole world seemed brighter and more cheerful. ‘I’m outside for the first time, I’m wearing an absolutely, beautiful dress; this is such a beautiful world. I’m going out to lunch with my mother and sister. Then we’re going shopping together.’ At that moment there couldn’t have been a happier girl in this whole city.
As we were riding, Rachael was talking about . . . something. I just wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy, as I realized how lovely the trees were, and how sweetly the birds were singing, how fluffy the clouds were, how beautiful the whole world is.
That is until we pulled into the parking terrace at the Crossroads Plaza and got out of the car. Suddenly I couldn’t move. I was five feet away from the safety of our car and I couldn’t move.
“Matilda, what’s the matter dear?” Mom asked as she came back to where I was standing.
“M — M — M — Mom, t — t — there are other p — p — people here!” I stammered.
“Well of course there are other people here. It’s the Crossroads mall. We’ve been here hundreds of times. You know this mall well,” Mom said as she took my hand, trying to coax me into moving.
“Y — Y — Yes, b — but not as M — M — Matilda!” I stuttered. “E — Every one will k - know.”
“So that’s it. You’re afraid that someone will recognize you.”
I just nodded my head.
“Are you telling me that it's okay to be Matilda at home, or at Mrs. Reynolds, but not out in public?” Mom asked. All I could do was look up at her.
Mom got down on one knee, took my face between her hands and looked into my eyes.
“Matilda, listen to me carefully. Is it okay for Rachael to come here in a dress?” Mom asked me gently, well of course, I nodded. “Well then, is it okay for Rachael to come here in pants?” again, I nodded. “Well can I come here in a dress or pants?” once again I nodded. “Well then it stands to reason that if Rachael and I can come to the mall in either a dress or pants, then you should be able to come here in either pants or a dress, right?” At that I didn’t nod, I just looked scared.
“Listen to me, Matilda. No one here is going to see you as anything but a young lady, a very beautiful young lady. Remember, even Jill didn’t know who you were. Really, no one here is going to see you as anything but the lovely young lady that you are. That is, unless you give them reason to by acting out of place. Most of the people here are so busy with their own lives that they won’t even notice the three of us. Now you said this morning that you are Matilda and that’s who you want to be. Then again at Mrs. Reynolds’s you reaffirmed that you are Matilda when you declared today as Matilda's Birthday. Now Matilda is a girl and you are going to spend the next two weeks learning what it means to be a girl. Now this is lesson number one. All girls love to shop. Now I want you to take my hand as we go into the mall. We are going to get some lunch and celebrate ‘Matilda’s Birthday.’ Then we are going to get you your make up and get you some new clothes. Rachael and I will be with you all the time, so just relax, have fun, and try to think like a girl.”
Mom stood up, smiled at me and offered me her hand. Gently I put my hand in hers and tried to smile back.
“Don’t worry, Sis. Everything is going to be just fine, you’ll see,” Rachael said as she gave me a hug. With that, she took my other hand and we started towards the main entrance.
We went into the mall and up to the food court on the second floor, where we got lunch at Panda Express. I was starting to relax a little bit, as I was enjoying my food. Mom knew that Panda Express was my favorite. As we were finishing, I realized that there was a problem that would have to be address fairly soon.
“Mom, umm, can we go home now?” I leaned over to Mom and whispered.
“But Matilda, we haven’t gotten your make up or clothes yet,” she replied.
“But I, umm, really need to go home now,” I said quietly.
“What’s the problem?” Mom asked.
“I need to go to the umm . . . I need to go to the bathroom,” I whispered.
“Well dear that happens to everyone from time to time. You can’t go running home every time you need to go to the bathroom. The public restrooms are just around the corner. We’ll stop there before going to Dillards for your make up, then on to The Children’s Place to look at some dresses. We will look at GapKids and Gymboree for some everyday clothes,” Mom said as she was planning the afternoon.
“But Mom I can’t use the men’s room dressed like this” I whispered.
“Matilda! Shame on you, thinking those kinds of thoughts. No daughter of mine would even consider using the men’s room,” Mom said with a smile.
“But Mom . . .” I started to say.
“But nothing Matilda! The three of us will go into the lady’s restroom. You will find an empty stall, go in, close and latch the door, lift your skirt, lower your panties, sit down and take care of whatever business needs to be taken care of. After you are finished, and you have cleaned yourself appropriately, you will pull up your panties, smooth out your skirt, then unlatch the door and come out. Rachael and I will be waiting for you. Can I assume that you remember where all the parts are, that you don’t need an anatomy lesson?” Mom giggled at the last comment, but it had the desired result. I started to relax a little.
Well we did exactly what Mom said. Fortunately, there were only two other ladies in the restroom. Nobody even took a second look at me as we went in to the restroom, but I was so nervous I almost wet myself before I got into the stall. After I was finished I went out, Mom made sure that my skirt was hanging straight and I washed up, them we left the restroom. Mom stopped at the first bench we came to and we all sat down.
“Matilda,” Mom said as she put an arm around me. “I know that was frightening for you but there was just no way around it. As a girl, you will use the ladies restroom.”
“I know Mom. It's just that everything is hitting me all at once. I’m just not sure I am ready for all of this, but I guess that doesn’t matter, does it? You keep on teaching and I'll do my best to learn,” I said, although I was just a little nervous.
Mom hugged me for a minute or two until I was feeling a little more relaxed. “Are you ready to go on Dear?” she asked.
I forced a smile and nodded
We went into Dillards to the cosmetic counter where Mom got everything that was on Mrs. Reynolds list. She got a couple of things for herself as well. Rachael and I just stood back and chatted between our selves. Then we went to GapKids and got me a couple of skirts and tops. I got a light blue pleated skirt and a red plaid pleated skirt, which both went to just below my knee. I wanted them shorter, but Mom said that as I grow they would get shorter. We also got two blouses, one light blue and one white with a Peter Pan collar with a little bit of lace around the collar. Nothing very fancy, but nice. We went to The Children’s Place looking for a party dress for Rachael and myself but we didn’t see anything we liked. Mom said we would look somewhere else another day. One of the sales people said that the dress I was wearing looked like a “Flower Girls” dress and that we should try some bridal shops. We thanked her for her help, but had to hurry home. It was almost 3:15 before we left the mall and we had to drive ten minutes to get home. We still had to get me changed, make up removed and everything put away before Chuck or Karen got home. ‘Changing back and forth from Matt, to Matilda and back to Matt again each day is going to become very tiresome’ I realized.
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 4
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Themes:
Permission:
Synopsis:
What will the other girls think of this “Want to Be Girl,” if they find out whom she really is.
Story:
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 4
It was my second day as Matilda; I was so excited from yesterday's adventure that I had a hard time getting to sleep the night before. This morning however, I woke up cheerful, excited and surprisingly well rested. As soon as Dad, Chuck and Karen left for their various destinations, I rushed back to my room took off my boy’s clothes and put on my plaid skirt and white blouse. Then I went into Mom’s room for my wig and makeup.
“Umm . . . Matilda, dear?” Mom said.
“Yes Mom?”
“I think its time for lesson number two. If you are wearing a white blouse, white skirt or pants, don’t wear colored underwear.” I looked at her with a puzzled expression. “You’re obviously wearing purple underwear this morning, aren’t you dear?” Mom asked. Rachael just giggled.
“Yes, Mom,” I said as I blushed. I quickly returned to my room to change.
“That’s much better dear,” Mom said as I returned a few minutes later.
After Mom did my make up and we got my wig in place and brushed out, we were ready to go, or were we?
“Oh Mom, we didn’t get me any shoes yesterday,” I said as we were getting ready to leave.
“Oh my goodness you’re right. Well, there’s no time this morning. Just put on a pair of white knee-socks and the Mary Jane’s from yesterday. We'll stop and get you some shoes this afternoon.”
Soon we were on our way. I don’t remember most of what we passed just different parts of the city. I remember going past Hogle Zoo and then on up that canyon. Eventually Mom pulled off the main road. We drove a little bit farther before we pulled up in front of a large steel gate. They were like the big gates in front of the 'Insane Asylums' in the old horror movies. Mom pressed a button on a call box that was mounted just outside her window.
“YES!”
“Edith Covington, to see Ellen Hansen,” Mom replied.
“IS MATILDA WITH YOU?”
“Yes she is.”
“ANYONE ELSE?”
“Yes, my younger daughter, Rachael.”
There was a long pause before anything else was said.
“DOES RACHAEL HAVE FULL KNOWLEDGE?”
“I assume you mean about Matilda. Yes,” Mom answered.
There was another long pause with nothing happening. Rachael and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. Suddenly the gates began to slide open. Mom pulled through the gates, which silently closed behind us.
“I guess we don’t get to leave until they want us to,” I said, feeling trapped. Mom could sense that I was a little nervous.
“Don’t worry dear, Jill told me something about this place. It’s a special school, very exclusive. Ellen Hansen is the lead psychiatrist. According to Jill she can be very helpful,” Mom said with a smile to help settle my nerves.
We drove for about another mile or so, and then went over a hill. As we started down the other side and into a small valley we saw seven or eight three story buildings around a large grass field. Off to one side there were several other buildings and what looked like a stable. There was a pasture fenced off with quite a few horses grazing. The road led us to a parking lot outside the largest building. We parked there and got out. As we were approaching the building the door opened and an attractive woman in her mid 40’s came out.
“Edith Covington? I’m Ellen Hansen,” said the woman approaching us.
“I’m pleased to meet you Ellen,” Mom said as they shook hands.
Mrs. Hansen turned to Rachael. “Welcome, Rachael. It’s a pleasure to have you visiting us today,” she said, shaking Rachael’s hand.
“And you, of course, must be Matilda,” Mrs. Hansen said, as she extended her hand for me to shake.
“Yes ma’am,” I replied shaking her hand like I’d seen Mom do.
“Please call me Ellen, all of you. I may have a fancy title and a large office but I’m really very informal,” Ellen asked. “Jill called me this morning and briefed me about you two. She even told me about the little trick you two played on her yesterday. Now I’ve seen you two together, I can see how Jill got confused. You two could easily be mistaken for twins,” Ellen chuckled.
"It was really Mom's, and Mrs. Reynolds's idea. Rachael and I just went along with it."
“I just wish I could have been there, I'm sure the look on Jill's face must have been priceless. Well now, shall we go into my office? We’ll be much more comfortable while we visit."
A few minutes later we were seated comfortably in Ellen’s office, which was very large. There was an executive looking desk and a high back leather chair, in front of the windows, on one side of the office. On the other side of her office were three couches and an over stuffed chair arranged around a circular coffee table. Ellen sat in the chair; Rachael and I sat on the couch to her right and Mom sat across from us.
“Well Matilda, according to Jill you think you should be a girl. Is this correct?” Ellen asked.
“Umm, well yes . . . that’s pretty much correct, I guess,” I answered nervously.
“It’s all right Matilda, please try to relax, I’m on your side. I just want to be sure I’ve got my facts straight,” Ellen said with a reassuring smile. “I think you’re a very attractive young lady. From what I’ve seen so far you appear to have been studying how girls act for some time. Is that correct?”
“Well, umm . . . No, not really studying. I mean, I've never really studied girls. It’s just that, well . . . All my friends are girls. Since Kindergarten I’ve just always been around girls, we all act pretty much the same. I mean, I act the same as Mary Beth, Kimmie and the others girls,” I said trying to understand what Ellen meant.
“Really, that's very interesting. Well now Matilda, tell me, how do you feel about boys?” Ellen asked
“Well, the boys at school are always showing off. Each one is trying to be better than the other is. Except for Black Bart and the other bullies, they don’t try to be better than the others are; they try to be worse. Trying to see who can pull the meanest prank or the meanest trick.”
“Well that's usually true of boys; the good ones try to outdo each other in a good way. While the bad ones try to outdo each other in a bad way. But that isn’t what I meant. What I want to know is how YOU feel about boys in general?” Ellen said clarifying her question.
“Well in general, boys are kind of icky. I mean, I don’t like them very much. I don't really want to be around then. I definitely don’t want to be like them. Umm . . . of course there is this one boy, umm Paul; he’s a year or two older than I am. He’s really kind of cute; he talks real nice and he’s fun to be with. He tries to get the other boys to leave me alone and stop picking on me. Um, I ah, I kind of like him,” I said, while staring out into space with a kind of dreamy smile.
Mom was looking at me real funny.
“What?” I asked her
“Oh nothing, really, I was just thinking that the bug has bitten my daughter. What do you think Ellen?" Mom asked.
“Oh definitely Edith, she’s been bitten,” Ellen agreed.
“The bug?” I asked. “What bug?”
Mom and Ellen looked at each other and smiled, and then they both looked at me. “The Love Bug!” they said together.
“Yuck, no way, we’re JUST friends,” I said.
Both women were giggling, as was Rachael.
“At ten years old, I am sure it’s just puppy love, but you’ve definitely been bitten,” Mom said as she chuckled. I just shook my head.
“Let’s move on, shall we?" Ellen asked, changing the subject. "Matilda, Jill tells me that you have been seeing her once a week for most of the summer. She didn’t tell me how long you’ve been dressing as a girl. Could you tell me how you got started and about when that happened?”
“Well, I guess I started dressing in Rachael’s clothes the summer between Kindergarten and first grade. You see, in Kindergarten I sat at a table with five other girls. We all talked together, we all played together, we had our snacks together, we did our work together, we just enjoyed being with each other. I was just, one of the girls. We had a very special friendship. They helped me get over the loss I felt, not being able to be with my Mother in the afternoon. I really missed the special afternoons that Mom and I spent together. They were so special to me, and when I couldn’t have my special time with Mom any more I was just so sad.”
“You’ve been wearing my clothes that long?” Rachael asked quietly.
“Rachael, hush Dear don’t disturbed Matilda right now. Look at her, she’s appears to be in some kind of trance,” Mom said.
I was talking slowly but freely. My mind had opened itself and I wandered into the past. Later, Mom told me that my eyes had glazed over and seldom blinked while I was talking. They wondered where I had gone, what world I was in. But they just sat and listened, as none of them had heard this before.
“During our special afternoons; Rachael would be taking her nap, Mom and I would spend the afternoon together. She would read stories to me, or we would play memory or reading games together. Mom taught me to read before I started school. Sometimes I would help her with her sewing. A couple of times Mom helped me make some bags for my toys, she did the cutting, and I did the sewing. I was so happy then, everything and everyone was happy. In my limited view of the world everything was just as it should be. I just assumed that my world would always be that pleasant, so full of joy, love and kindness.
“Then I started school and my world was turned upside down. I couldn’t be with Mom in the afternoon any more. Because of that I was always sad when I got to school. But each day my new friends were there, they helped me get over the sorrow I felt at being separated from Mom. They treated me like I was somebody special. Especially Mary Beth, she was so kind and loving; she loved me almost as much as my Mother did. Each day when Mom would take me to school Mary Beth would be waiting for me. She would take my hand and we would walk across the playground to class together. She tried to protect me from the mean kids at school. She hugged me when I was sad, which always made me feel better. Mary Beth always wore nice dresses to school, just like Mom did during our special afternoons. It took a long, long time, but with the help of my new friends I wasn’t sad when Mom would drop me off for school. Now I looked forward to being with Mary Beth and my other friends each afternoon.”
“Besides Mary Beth there was Kimmie, and Sara, and Julie, and Molly. The six of us were the best of friends; we were together almost all the time. We were like the ‘Three Musketeers’ only doubled; I guess that made us the ‘Six Musketeers.’ We helped each other and we always looked out for each other. It was almost like the other kids weren’t there. It took a long time but my world had finally righted itself and I once again found the happiness that I'd known before. Then suddenly; almost before I knew it school was out for the summer. I was so excited; I was going to have my special afternoons with Mom again. But it just wasn’t meant to be! You see everything was different. Rachael didn’t take naps any more; Karen was there and sometimes Chuck was there. I just felt out of place all the time, I just wasn’t special any more.”
“It was about that time when I started to notice Rachael’s underwear in the hamper in the bathroom. They were nicer than mine were, they had lace, and bright colors, and little ribbons, and they just seemed so special, and I so needed to feel special again. So one day after I got out of the tub I tried on some of Rachael’s underwear. They felt so nice, just wearing them made me feel special. I felt, like I was running through a mountain meadow in the springtime that was full of wild flowers. As I was enjoying that special feeling, everything started spinning and I fell down. Then I remember, being cold as if I'd been on the floor for a long time. As I got up, I remembered that I was wearing Rachael’s underwear and I felt calm, peaceful yet happy. I felt complete somehow, like I was supposed to wear such nice clothes. It seemed so natural to be wearing frilly lace, almost like I was meant to wear them from the beginning. I put my underwear in the hamper and pulled on my pajamas over Rachael’s underwear. That night I slept so peacefully, more peacefully than I had slept in a long, long time. It was like; I was floating on a sea of pink clouds, drifting slowly across the sky. That night was the first of many luxurious nights to come.”
“One day I found myself looking in Rachael’s underwear drawer. I was mesmerized by what I saw, glorious colors, layers of lace, matching sets, stockings with lace and short frilly baby doll nighties with ruffles, lace and even matching panties. Everything was just sooo . . . beautiful. After I found that treasure chest of girls delight's I would sneak in whenever I could and get something different to wear, so fresh, clean, and they smelled so wonderful and they were so nice that I always had that feeling of being special. Then one day I was the only one home, and I would be alone for about four hours. I don’t know why or how it happened, but I found myself in Rachael’s room wearing some of her magnificent underwear and looking through her closet for a dress to wear. I found a beautiful lavender dress with ruffles around the hem, and I put it on. I danced around the room for a long, long time before settling on Rachael’s bed. Then I started reading stories to her stuffed animals. Oh, it felt like a dream come true, my heart was singing and my soul was in heaven. Once again I was floating along with that sea of pink clouds, only this time, I was awake. At that moment in time I was happier than I’ve ever been. ‘This is how I’m supposed to feel’ I thought to myself. I knew that this is the way my life is supposed to be, and the only way my life will be complete. From then on I would sneak some of Rachael's amazing underwear to sleep in at night, and would wear her dresses whenever I was going to be alone for a while.”
“The next three and a half years were a mixture wonderful bliss and aggravating torture. There were weeks when I couldn't sneak into Rachael's room at all. It was torture to me knowing what delights were available but, that I was being denied, I felt betrayed somehow. Then there were times when I was alone and could dress and be what my heart and soul longed for and desired. Then one day Rachael was mad at Karen for moving her things around, but I knew it was me the night before. I had borrowed a wonderful pair of pink panties with lace and a matching vest that had a lovely red bow. Rachael was angry, and then Mom got involved. I just didn't have a chance to return them while Rachael was taking her shower. You see I woke up late that morning; it had been another glorious night. With all the excitement, and waking up late, I didn’t even have a chance to change into my boy's underwear before going to school. I had to wear Rachael's underwear to school and I was so scared, and soo excited too. I was afraid that someone would find out that I was wearing girls’ underwear. But I was also excited that I was finally able to be myself through the entire day, not just at night.”
“I didn’t take any of Rachael’s things for about a month because she had been so mad. I was so sad and miserable that month, but didn’t want to risk being discovered. I was afraid that if other people knew that I wanted to be a, girl, they would think I was strange, or weird, or some kind of sick freak or something. Then that fateful day arrived; I was going to be alone for about four hours on a Saturday. It was no big deal, I’d been alone before. I was happily watching Saturday morning cartoons. When I blinked; I was suddenly in Rachael’s room. I don’t even remember going into her room or taking off my clothes. But there I was, I was wearing the frilliest underwear set I had ever seen. The feeling was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was like every nerve ending of my entire body was being tickled at the same time. I had found this gorgeous pair of pink panties and a matching vest, with more lace than I've ever seen. I was looking for a dress to wear when I found Rachael’s new pink party dress. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t help myself. I slowly, carefully, put it on. I was enjoying every wonderful second. I was so happy that I could once again wear the clothes that my heart told me I should be wearing. I felt like a fairytale princess in that wonderful dress. Every thing was perfect, I was happy, I was dancing and my soul, my soul was flying. I was merrily talking with my friends, the stuffed bears. I was going to read them stories about a magic land where everyone always lived happily ever after. Everything was just so fantastic; I was able to be myself, dressed the way I wanted, the way I needed, the way that just felt so right for me. I was happily dancing and spinning around and around — until suddenly I saw my Mother standing in the bedroom door looking at me. I was frozen in place, gripped by fear . . . I'd been discovered, I was . . . terrified.”
As I remembered the fear of that day, it brought me out of the trance or dream I was in. I blinked three or four times to refocus. When I could see clearly I looked across at Mom. I saw the look of wonder and amazement on her face; I hung my head and timidly spoke.
“Umm . . . what did I just say?”
“Well dear . . . that would take about an hour to explain, you have been talking for about that long,” Mom said softly.
There was a long uncomfortable silence.
“Well,” Ellen finally said. “Matilda is definitely all girl inside. I've heard many transgendered people tell their story. Never before, have I heard such, passion, such vivid descriptions of feelings. Words don't describe how I feel at this moment,” (there was another long pause). “Matilda, if you were to leave right now, and we were to never see each other again, I would consider myself blessed for having met with you today. You are truly an incredible young lady.”
Every body just sat and looked at me for what seemed like an hour, actually it was only a few minutes. I was so embarrassed. I didn’t even know what I said that made everyone think I was so special. Rachael, being that she was next to me, just hugged me the whole time.
Finally Ellen spoke. “Well Matilda, let’s see what we can do about making you a girl on the outside. How long have you been dressing as a girl full time?” she asked.
“Well actually, Matilda doesn’t dress full time," Mom answered. "In fact, yesterday and today are the only times that she has been outside dressed as Matilda. You see, she has an older brother and sister that don’t know. Also her father doesn’t know, I think he is going to have a very hard time understanding. David was a Sergeant in the Marine Corp. I'm not sure how he's going to react to the idea that his son needs to be a girl.”
“Matilda has really only been out for two partial days?” Ellen asked. “Now I'm really impressed. Her mannerisms, her walk, her voice are almost perfect for a girl her age. I would have thought that she had been dressing full time for three to six months.”
“Yes indeed. Today is only Matilda’s second day out. We refer to yesterday as ‘Matilda’s Birthday’,” Mom said with a smile.
Rachael and I both giggled as we remembered the events of the day before.
“Well again I’m speechless,” Ellen said. After a short pause she continued. “Well then, why have you come to ‘Immigration Manor’ today?”
“To where?” I asked.
“To ‘Immigration Manor’ dear, that’s the name of this school. You may want to consider attending school here someday Matilda. There are several advantages you will have here over going to public schools,” said Ellen. “But back to my question. What brings you here?”
“Well actually, Jill told us you might be able to help Matilda in learning to pass as a girl,” Mom explained to Ellen. “You see, both girls have been invited to Mary Beth’s birthday party. Mary Beth is the only one who knows about Matilda, outside of you, Jill Morgan and Amanda Reynolds. The party is a week from this Saturday, which gives us about ten days to transform Matilda into a living, breathing, thinking girl.”
“Ten days, that's not a lot of time,” said Ellen. “Speaking of time, it’s about time for lunch. Why don’t you three join us for lunch? I need to talk with my staff, and then we’ll get back together and talk some more after lunch.” Then she rose and started for the door. It didn’t seem like she was asking a question as much as giving an order. We all got up and followed her.
Ellen led us out the door, down a long corridor, through another door, we then found ourselves outside. We then went into the next building and into a large cafeteria where there were about 100 students; some of them were boys but mostly girls. Some sitting and eating, some in line to get their lunch and others were just talking. Ellen waved at two girls, who appeared to be about fifteen years old, inviting them to come over to where we were.
“Beca, Liz. There are two empty seats at your table, aren’t there?” Ellen asked.
“Yes Ellen,” said Beca.
“Excellent, just what I thought. This is Rachael and Matilda,” said Ellen as she introduced us. “Would you two do me a favor and help these two young ladies get some lunch, and seat them at your table please? After lunch would you show them around a little? Show them the pool and some of the other recreational facilities. Take about an hour then bring them back to my office.”
“Sure thing Ellen, it would be our pleasure,” said Liz.
“Rachael and Matilda, you two relax and just be yourselves. Enjoy your lunch and the tour. Beca and Liz are two of our top students, as well as excellent tour guides. I need to talk with some members of my staff and with your Mother for a little while, and then we'll all get back together,” said Ellen. Then she took Beca and Lizy aside and spoke with them privately for just a moment. Liz took Rachael’s arm and Beca took my arm as they lead us over to where they were serving lunch.
It’s a good thing that Beca was leading me, because I was lost in thought again. “What did Ellen mean when she said 'just be yourself? I know that Rachael will be herself, because she isn’t anyone else. But I am. Am I supposed to be myself as Matt or am I supposed to be myself as Matilda? This is starting to get really confusing. And if I'm myself as Matilda, will the other girls find out. What would they do if they found out that I’m a boy under these clothes? Why did Ellen separate Mom from us? I need Mom as a buffer between me and every one . . .”
“Hey Matilda, wake up girl,” Beca giggled, “Where have you been? What do you want for lunch?” she asked as she put a tray into my hands.
“I’m sorry, Beca. I was lost in thought for a minute. What were you saying?” I asked.
“I asked you what you wanted for lunch, silly girl. Your choices are spaghetti, beef stroganoff, or you can have a cold submarine sandwich,” Beca explained. “You just select the main course and the kitchen staff will add the appropriate side dishes to make it a balanced meal.”
“Oh, I think I would like to try the beef stroganoff,” I said. Looking around I didn’t see Rachael. “Oh Beca, where's Rachael?”
“Well, while you were off in la, la land they got their lunch and Lizy took her back to our table. Let’s get your lunch and get going you silly girl. What would you like to drink with your lunch; milk, chocolate milk, apple juice, orange juice, or water?” Beca was asking me, as she gave my request for beef stroganoff to a member of the kitchen staff.
“Oh, I think the apple juice,” I said.
We picked up my lunch consisting of a generous portion of beef stroganoff over egg noodles. There were also some French cut green beans with onions, and a small bowl with green salad. Then we got some apple juice, a fresh dinner roll and a piece of apple pie with whipped cream. Then we went over to the table where Rachael, Liz and four other girls were sitting.
“Hi everybody, this is Matilda, she's Rachael’s sister. I guess Lizy already went through the introductions when they got here,” Beca asked as she greeted her friends.
“Yes, she did,” everyone chorused together.
“Matilda you'll sit here next to me,” said Beca. After both girls were seated Beca continued with the introductions for my benefit. “Matilda, on your left is Frank, that short for Francine. To her left is Kathleen, of course we call her Kate. Next to her is Angelina, we call her Angel for short. I think you might just know Rachael, (Beca giggled) and you’ve met Elizabeth, Ellen calls her Liz but everyone else calls her Lizy. I’m Rebecca but almost everyone calls me Beca, and then here on my right is Kimberley.”
“Oh I know a girl named Kimberley. She’s a very good friend of mine. We call her Kimmie,” I said.
“Don’t get any ideas, girls. I like my name just the way it is, and I don’t need a nickname,” said Kimberley sharply.
“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean anything,” I apologized.
“Oh that’s okay. These girls have been trying to give me a nickname for years. You just stumbled into their favorite way of teasing me,” said Kimberley with a smile, so I knew she wasn’t mad at me.
"So how old are you two?" asked Angel.
"I'll be ten in November," I said.
"And I'm eight and a half," replied Rachael.
"But you two look like twins?" Kimberley said.
"And nobody lets me forget that!" I said.
"Now I think I owe you an apology," said Kimberley.
"No you don't, Kimberley, I may not be happy about looking like Rachael's twin, but there are some advantages, and I'm starting to get used to it. Besides we do think a lot alike," I confessed, smiling at Rachael.
"I don't see anyone else that's our age," I said looking around. "What grades attend school here?"
"Well it's not so much by grades, it's more by age and by what each student needs to learn so they are prepared for life out in the real world," Lizy said. "As a general rule we have students from ten years old to eighteen."
"Yes, but back to your question Matilda, the younger students finished their lunch about forty-five minutes ago," answered Beca.
“So what are you two doing here at the ‘Manor’?” Frank asked.
“Oh we’re just visiting with Ellen,” I said.
“So which one of you is it?” asked Angel.
“Hold it girls!” Beca interrupted before any one could say anything else. “These two are just visiting. Ellen asked that we just observe and try to figure it out on our own. So don’t either one of you two tell us!” Beca was looking back and fourth between Rachael and me, as she finished.
“Figure what out?” Rachael asked.
“Why, figure out which one of you is transgendered, of course,” said Kate.
“What?” I said.
“You’re kidding, right?” asked Rachael, while looking at me.
“Who said anything about being transgendered?” I said, looking back at Rachael.
We both figured that we had been set up this time. We knew each other so well that we could almost read each others thoughts. It was then that Rachael and I decided to switch places, so to speak. We winked at each other confirming our thoughts.
“Well that has to be the reason you’re here. You mean you don’t know about this school?” ask Kimberley.
“No,” Rachael answered.
“Well this is a very special school where someone who is transgendered can come and get a real good education without the fear of getting beat-up every day, or worrying about ‘Being an Embarrassment to the Family’,” explained Angel.
“Are there that many around here?” I asked.
“Oh, not everyone's from around here, really only a few,” Beca said. “Most of us are from out of state. This school accepts students from all over the United States. Till a few years ago the school was in Ohio, but it was old and a bit crowded. The facilities here are much better.”
”Facilities?” asked Rachael
”You'll see when we do the tour," laughed Lizy, not wanting to give anything away. "But enough about us. We want to hear more about you two. First, how's your lunch and second, where do you come from?"”
“Well this lunch is great,” said Rachael, obviously enjoying her spaghetti, while making more of a mess than normal.
“Yes, really very good,” I said. “Our Mother doesn’t work, so she makes our lunches. If were lucky there are some leftovers from dinner the night before. That’s if Dad or Chuck hasn’t eaten them first. Usually we get sandwiches, chips, and some fruit.”
“We go to 'Whittier Elementary School' that's by Liberty Park,” Rachael said answering the second question. “We live close enough that we walk to school, and we can also walk to the park.”
“Liberty Park? I’ve never heard of that one. Is it nice?” asked Lizy.
“Oh yes; it’s a real neat park. There’s a small zoo, and a really neat playground,” Rachael started.
“Yes and it’s a big park, one city block wide and two blocks long. There’s also a small lake with an island in the middle where the city shoots off fireworks on the Fourth and Twenty-Fourth of July,” I added.
“I know why you celebrate the Fourth of July with fireworks that’s Independence Day. But what is the Twenty-Fourth of July?” questioned Kate.
“I take it you’re not from Utah?” Rachael asked in return.
“No! I’m from Montana,” Kate replied.
“Well in Utah we celebrate the Twenty-Fourth of July, because it was on that day in 1847 that the Mormon Pioneers first entered into the Great Salt Lake Valley. It’s usually a bigger celebration than the Fourth of July,” I told everyone.
“Wait a minute, there’s something wrong here,” I said.
“What do you mean?” asked Angel.
“Well, we are able to talk to each other, and we can actually hear what every one is saying. I mean the boys here aren’t noisy and rowdy like the boys at my school,” I said amazed at the behavior of the boys at a nearby table.
“Well some of the boys here used to be girls,” answered Frank.
“What?” Rachel asked surprised.
“Yes, just like some boys feel that they should be a girl, some girls feel that they should be boys,” explained Kate.
“There’s something that you need to learn about the students here,” Beca explained. “Everyone here is very open with each other and very accepting of each other’s differences. We’re more like a family than students at a school, we help each other and we look out for each other. Oh sometimes we get upset with each other, just like any family, but generally things go quite smoothly.”
We continued to talk as we ate, taking a little longer than planned.
"Well if everyone has finished their lunch, we have some sightseeing to do,” Beca said, addressing Rachael, Lizy, and I. “We’ll catch up with the rest of you girls later.”
After we returned our dishes and trays to the kitchen, we were off.
"Our first stop will be the pool," Beca said. "It's just down the east stairwell."
"The pool is indoors?" I asked.
"Yes, there’s a bowling alley and swimming pools just under the cafeteria," Lizy said.
"Wow, that's really cool," Rachael said trying to act more like the boys from school.
"Yes, we’re taught basic swimming and lifesaving skills. For those who really like the water they can also sign up for water ballet and water polo," Beca was explaining as we went. "Let's go in through the office area, it'll be faster and we can avoid the locker room."
"Hello, girls," said the young woman from behind the counter as she greeted us.
"Hello Ms. Anderson," Beca replied. "Ellen asked Lizy and I to give our two guests a brief tour. This is Rachael and Matilda."
"I'm pleased to meet you girls," said Ms. Anderson. "If you have any questions about our facilities please feel free to ask."
"Thank you." Rachael and I said together. ‘If we keep this up everyone is going to think we really are twins.’
Lizy and Beca led us through the office and into the pool area, where there were two pools.
"These are our two main pools," Beca was explaining. "They’re both Olympic size pools, this one is where they teach basic swimming, water ballet, and water polo. The square pool at the far end is a fifteen-foot deep diving pool. That's where they teach lifesaving, and platform diving. We had two of our school’s alumni in the platform diving competition in the last summer Olympics."
"We also have two hot tubs and a sauna next to the locker room. They’re great if you've had a rough day and just need to relax," Lizy added.
"T — There’s just one locker room?" Rachael asked, trying to sound nervous, as she knew I would be.
"Yes, just one locker room. In the middle are two rows of small lockers to put your clothes in while you’re swimming. Around the outside are twenty private rooms for changing, each one has its own shower," Beca answered.
"Well what would you like to see next?" Lizy asked, as they lead us back through the office area and to the stairs that we had come down.
"What else is there?" Rachael wanted to know.
"Well there's the bowing alley next door. Then there's the theater. We’ve a drama department that puts on a different Shakespearean play each year, along with several other plays throughout the year. We also get to see some of the latest movies, as well as some real fun old classic movies," stated Lizy. “There was this one they showed last month, one of the funniest old movies I have ever seen. It was about this pink submarine. What was the name of it, Beca?”
“I think it was called, 'Operation Petticoat' although I don’t remember who was in it. But it really was funny,” Beca answered. "The Theater is also where the school choir performs."
"The school has a choir?" I asked.
"Oh yes, we've a world renowned choir and a small orchestra to accompany them. We've performed before presidents and royalty around the world. Our last trip took us to Japan. We also got to do a little sight seeing in Hawaii, the Polynesian Cultural Center on Oahu was fabulous," Lizy said with pride.
"Beca, I take it that Lizy is in the choir?" I asked.
Everyone is in the choir, the whole school sings. Lizy is part of the orchestra, she plays the French horn, she's really very good," Beca said. "Sometimes just to tease her we call her Tin-Lizy, but only in fun." she added with a smile.
"There's also a gymnasium of course. Whatever you can do in a gym we do; basketball, volleyball, gymnastics, aerobics, ballet, the works. We also have an indoor cycling track, where some of the students also like to workout on roller blades. There's also the indoor archery range and then there's the stable and equestrian arenas," Beca said, finishing the description of the schools facilities.
"Wow, this sounds like a great place to go to school," I said.
"Well, like any school, it has its good points and it's bad. We go to school year round. Only the few students that are from around here get to leave the school grounds, and that's very seldom,“ Lizy said. "With the exception of the field trips of course, then the whole school goes. Of course, winter up here is interesting though. We usually get between six to eight feet of snow. "
"Field trips?" asked Rachael.
"Eight feet of snow?" I asked.
"That's what they call them. That's when the school's choir performs abroad. There are usually two to three trips each year," Lizy said.
"And for this school to pack up and go on tour is no small excursion. With the choir and orchestra there are about one hundred and fifty students, plus staff and helpers makes for a group of about one hundred seventy five," Beca added.
"As for the snow," said Lizy jumping back into the conversation. "The maintenance staff keeps the walkways clear. But that doesn't stop us from having lots of fun. Some of us like to dig tunnels in the field between the buildings although not always in a straight line, they usually resemble a maze," she added with a giggle.
"Of course another one of the drawbacks are these school uniforms. I mean, really, why does a school like this need uniforms. After all who would really want to wear red plaid skirts anyway?" Beca said. Then Lizy tapped Beca on her shoulder, nodding at me.
"Oops, sorry, I guess some girls do like red plaid," Beca apologized.
"That's okay," I said, "I like lots of things that most other girls don't. Speaking of which, how's your library?"
"Well the library is actually kind of small, but if there's a specific book you want, they’re pretty good about getting it and adding it to the library. But the computer system is really top notch. We have access to current and historical information from around the world, in any language of your choice. Data, voice, and video feeds’ as well. Also, there's a network just for gaming on the system. With that you can link the game you are playing to the same game being played by another student. We've had as many and thirty people playing one game at the same time. The competition can get really intense,” Beca was beaming as she was explaining the computer network capabilities.
"Don't mind her, she's what they referred to in the movie Jurassic Park as a computer nerd," Lizy giggled.
"I am not a computer nerd!" Beca counted.
"All right, geekette then," Lizy teased with a giggle.
"Well, I guess we know what Beca gets teased about," Rachael said, giggling as well. "What time is it anyway?"
"Oh good grief, we’re well past our hour. We spent most of the time talking. Well at least we got to know each other better," Beca confessed. "We better get you two back to Ellen's office."
With that we headed up the stairs and back the way we’d came. When we arrived at Ellen's office, Beca knocked.
"Enter," we heard a voice of authority from within the office, definitely Ellen's.
Beca opened the door and we all went in.
"Welcome girls," said Ellen. "I was just about to call out the Sheriff’s Search and Rescue posse," she said with a smile and a giggle. "Matilda, Rachael, why don't you two have a seat on one of the couches. Liz, Beca, could I please have a word with you?" she asked as she got up and motioned them over to her desk.
A few minutes later Lizy and Beca said good-byes and left. And Ellen returned to her chair.
"Well girls, how was your lunch and tour?" asked Ellen.
"Lunch was great, we had a really fun time talking with the other girls," Rachael said.
"As for our tour, well we did make it down to see the pools, but we kind of spent the rest of the time talking," I added.
"Well I’m glad that you two had a good time. I just thought I would let you know the consensus of the girl's you had lunch with. Most of them think that Matilda is transgendered and Rachael is genetic. But the vote was four to two, which means that two of the girls believe that Matilda is genetic. Very impressive for someone who doesn't even dress full-time! You should be proud of yourself, Matilda. You completely fooled two of our best detectives."
Rachael and I turned to each other, and gave each other a high five. We were both pleased with ourselves.
"What's that all about?" Mom asked.
"Well, once we learned that this is a school for the transgendered, and the other girl's were supposed to guess which one of us was transgendered, we thought we'd have a little fun with them," I said with a mischievous grin.
"Yes, I tried to act like a scared little boy," Rachael admitted.
"And I tried to be more confident," I added. "I guess I didn't do as well as I was trying, they still figured it out."
"Yes, but you did fool two of them. That's not half bad, for a two day old," Mom said, both complimenting and teasing at the same time.
"Just for your information, four of the girls you had lunch with are transgendered," Ellen informed us.
“What? You’re kidding right? Four of those girls are just like me, which ones?” I asked in surprise.
“Well if you couldn’t tell, I'm certainly not going to tell you. It just goes to show how well they have learned their lessons,” said Ellen with a smile.
“We have some classes that are very specialized; you won’t find them in any school curriculum anywhere else, not in this country anyway. Girl 101 and 102 as they have been nicknamed, are each a six month classes to teach someone like you how to dress, walk, act, and think like a girl. There's also Boy 101 and 102 for those who want to appear more masculine,” Ellen told us. “The problem here is you need to graduate from both Girl 101 and 102 in less than ten days. On the other hand most of what we teach in Girl 101 you already know, simply because you have been around girls and have been acting like a girl most of your life. There are only a few things that gave you away during lunch. One — you eat like a boy. The table manners of girl’s are subtly different from those of boy’s. Two — your speech patterns and conversation skills are just a little off. That is you don’t think like a girl, this is really the trick and usually takes a long time to change.”
“Are you telling me that it’s hopeless?” I asked timidly, my heart sinking. I’d failed to be a good enough girl.
“Of course its not hopeless. Nothing is hopeless,” Ellen said with a smile. “Edith, I was wondering if Matilda could stay with us from now until a week from Friday?”
“Oh, that just isn’t possible. There is no way I would be able to hide something like that from David,” Mom told her. “Being that he’s an ex-marine, he's sometimes a little overly suspicious.”
“Well then could you bring her here each day from about 9:30am to 2:30pm?” Ellen asked. “We can compress as much information into those five hours as possible.”
“That should be no problem, as long as the weather is good so Karen and Charles go off to be with their friends. I do have a question that I have to ask. What will this cost? I don’t know how much I will be able to keep from David,” Mom answered, and asked.
“Don’t worry about the money Edith. We do have a budget to follow, but there is also some flexibility. Helping Matilda for a few days won’t bankrupt the school,” Ellen explained. “Now that’s settled, we'll expect to see you and Matilda at 9:30 tomorrow morning. I'll make the arrangements for Matilda’s room and her school uniform’s this afternoon, I'll also setup an office for you, Edith. While Matilda is working at becoming a girl, we'll start getting you back up to speed with your studies. We may even schedule you a client or two. Oh Matilda, I have some homework for you. I want you to stop at your favorite store and pick up several magazines dealing with fashion for girls. Read them from cover to cover. When you have finished with them get some more. The best way to start thinking like a girl is to read as much material as you can that is intended for girls.” As Ellen was talking she was busy making several entries in a small hand held computer.
‘Where had that come from?’ I wondered.
“What do you mean 'my room and school uniform’s',” I had to ask.
“We’ll set up a room where you can change from what ever you are wearing when you arrive into our standard school uniforms. We are trying to teach you to think like a girl. It will help for you to dress the same as the rest of the girls,” Ellen explained.
“Well that answers every question except one. What are we going to do with Rachael while Matilda and I are here each day?” Mom asked.
“Well I’m sorry Edith, but we don’t take children younger than ten years of age. Helping Matilda for a few days doesn't violate the school rules because she isn’t a full-time student. As for Rachael. It's not possible for her to be here each day. Security would have a fit. The only exception would be if there were some very unusually circumstances. I’m afraid you are going to have to make some other arrangements for Rachael,” Ellen apologized.
“Well,” Mom said as she looked at Rachael. “I guess we can arrange for you to spend those days with one of your friends.”
“Mom, do you think I could stay with Mary Beth or Kimmie? My friends act so immature,” Rachael said.
“Well, I'll call Jean Phelps when we get home,” Mom told her, shaking her head.
“Well now, does that cover all your questions Edith?” Ellen asked.
“Yes, I guess that covers everything. I guess we should get going, we’ve some shopping to do this afternoon, don’t we girls?” Mom said.
Rachael and I both nodded. You know, I've discovered that every time I nod or shake my head this long hair tickles my ears. I think I kind of like it.
“Girls,” Ellen said. “Before you leave I need to explain something to you both. Due to the fact that there are some people and groups don’t like transsexuals, this school and its location are a very closely guarded secret. Normally a member of the faculty would have brought you here, but because of special circumstances, your mother was trusted with the directions. I need you all to promise that you won’t tell anybody about the school, the type of students that go here or where this school is.”
“We promise,” Rachael and I solemnly swore, in one voice.
“Very well, I will see you both tomorrow morning at 9:30. Rachael it has been a pleasure meeting you today,” said Ellen. Then we all got up and Ellen led us out to our car.
We said our goodbyes to Ellen, then got into our car and started for home. No one spoke as we drove back up the hill toward the main gate of the school. I guess we were all thinking about what had happened that day, I know I was. Today started out just asking for a little help for me to be convincing as a girl, and has ended up with me attending classes for the next seven days at this exclusive, almost secret school. As we approached the gates they slid open. There must be a camera mounted somewhere, I wonder just what kind of school this really is that has that kind of security.
“Mom, why is Ellen going to set up an office for you?” I asked.
“Ellen offered me a job at the school. It seems that they are looking for several more Psychiatrists and counselors. With that many students they just haven’t been able to find enough that are trained, and are understanding of the problems that transgendered children have. I’ve tentatively accepted. I would be a counselor, working with those students that are not transgendered. While I am working there I will go back to the University and take the classes I need to refresh and then finish my Doctorate degree,” Mom explained.
We stopped at Wal-Mart and got me two pairs of shoes and five magazines. One pair of black Mary Jane’s and a pair of white sneakers with pink butterflies, they’re just so cute. After we got home I quickly changed; I finished just minutes before Chuck got home.
After dinner that night, Mom called and talked with Jean Phelps. Rachael and I went to see Mary Beth. We met at our favorite corner of Liberty Park.
“Hi, Mary Beth,” Rachael and I said together. There we go, acting like twins again.
“Hi Rachael,” Mary Beth said. Then looking around to make sure we were alone. When she saw there was nobody close, she gave me a hug and whispered in my ear. “Hello, Matilda my dear friend. How have you been?”
“Things have been pretty good. That birthday invitation kind of stirred things up though,” I said.
“I’m really sorry about that. I tried to get my Mom to let me invite Matt. I told her that he was my best friend, and I really, really wanted him there. But she wouldn’t budge, 'I’m only ten years old and it just wouldn’t be proper to invite a boy to my birthday party', she kept telling me. So I figured that the next best thing would be to invite Matilda. I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble,” she said. She was really sad about the whole thing. I hugged her for a minute to tell her it was okay.
“Hey it’s really no problem, Mary Beth. It just caused us to move up the timetable for Matilda’s debut. It's been a wild couple of days, and will be very busy for me over the next week and a half as I get ready for your party,” I told her.
“It’s going to take you almost two weeks to get ready for my party? What do you mean?” Mary Beth asked.
“Well your Mother said that Matt couldn’t come to the party, right? So if I show-up in a dress, looking like Matt in a dress, how do you think your Mother will react?” I asked her.
“Oh my, she would probably cancel the party and I would be grounded for at least two weeks,” Mary Beth said, shaking her head. “So what do you have to do?” she asked.
“It’s simple . . . I have to become a girl!” I told her.
Mary Beth looked at me like she didn’t believe a word I was saying. “How can you become a girl? Let alone become a girl in two weeks?” she finally asked.
“Well, I don’t know all of what is going to happen. But trust me, when Matilda shows up at your Birthday Party you won’t recognize her,” I said.
“Sure you will, Mary Beth, because Matilda will be the prettiest girl at your birthday party,” Rachael said while giggling.
“You two are teasing me again,” Mary Beth said.
“Well judging from the reaction of everyone who's met Matilda so far, you’d better get your hair done professionally. Get yourself a new gown with shoes to match. And learn how to do your makeup so that you'll look like a princess. That's if you want to stay in the running,” I said, all while keeping a straight face.
“You mean Matilda has been out meeting other people?” Mary Beth asked.
“Well for the last two days . . .” I started.
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me that Matilda wears MAKEUP?” Mary Beth said excitedly, as she realized what I had said.
“That’s right. And for your party, I get to wear make up too,” beamed Rachael.
“That’s so unfair. My Mom won’t let me wear makeup until I’m fourteen,” Mary Beth said pouted.
“Well it’s really just a little tiny bit of make up, to accent certain features,” I added. “But if having Matilda and Rachael wearing make up at your birthday party is going to cause you to not enjoy your own party, I guess we could cancel and not come,” I offered.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re my best friend. It doesn’t matter to me if you are Matt or Matilda, I love you and I want you at my party. Even if you do turn out to be prettier than me. Of course I doubt that you can,” Mary Beth said, almost as a challenge.
“So tell me, why is Rachael going to spend Thursday, Friday and all of next week at my house?” Mary Beth asked.
“Well, it’s like I said. It will take a lot of work for me to be a girl. I'm going someplace where they will teach me the things I need to know. And before you ask about it, don’t. We aren’t allowed to talk about it,” I said in answer to her unasked question, although I probably caused her to think of ten more.
“Well okay, whatever. So when do I get to meet Matilda? I kind of need to know what the competition looks like,” Mary Beth asked.
“Well I’m sorry but you don’t get to meet her until your party. You see; Karen, Chuck, and Dad don’t know about Matilda yet and we need to keep it that way for now.” I told her. “Mary Beth I need to ask you a really, really big favor? I need you to promise me that you won’t talk about Matilda to anyone else. No one can know that I’m Matilda. Please . . . promise me?” I asked, as I looked deep into Mary Beth’s eyes.
“Oh that's going to be hard, and it's going to be really hard after the party. Everyone there will want to know who Matilda is, where she came from, how I know her. Lots of things like that. But okay, I promise I won’t talk about Matilda to anyone,” Mary Beth said.
“I know it’s going to be hard. But we have to keep it a secret. Like I said, Dad doesn’t know about Matilda and I'm afraid that he's not going to like this very much,” I told her. I couldn’t help myself; I started shaking as I thought about Dad’s reaction to Matilda.
Rachael quickly put her arms around me. “This happens every time Matilda thinks about Dad. She is really afraid of him. Dad has kind of a violent temper and sometimes he loses control,” Rachael told Mary Beth softly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone anything,” Mary Beth promised.
Mary Beth put her arms around me as well and together they hugged me until I stopped shaking. It was almost dark when I had settled down enough to be led home. With Rachael on one side of me and Mary Beth on the other side they led me home. Rachael told Mom what had happened at the park and why I was so upset. Mom had to get me ready for bed again, as I wasn’t very coherent at the time.”
What will my future bring? I wonder”
Rogers & Hammerstein
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 5
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
But; I've never been to a school like this before.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page and Joni W.
For their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 5
Thursday morning arrived and for some reason I’m almost as scared of going back to Immigration Manor, as I am of Dad. I don't know why, everyone there is very nice. Nobody is going to be mean, or be shocked because I'm a boy in girl's clothes, but I'm still scared. Mom noticed that I was very nervous, so nervous that the hair of my wig shook while I sat for mom to apply my makeup.
"Matilda, what's the matter dear?"
"I know its silly Mom, but I'm just really nervous today."
"But why dear? You've seen the school, met some of the other students, and some of the staff. They know about you, and they want to help you. No one is going to be mean to you or tease you."
"I know that Mom, I've been going through this in my mind over, and over, since I got up this morning. There's nothing to be nervous about, but I'm still really nervous."
"Well dear, I understand that you're nervous, but if you don't stop shaking, I'm going to miss your eyelashes with this mascara and it's going to end up all over your nose!" Mom said with a grin and a giggle.
Mom knows me too well. A little bit of laughter and I’m able to relax, some.
"All the same, maybe I should have another talk with Jill, sometime in the next day or two," I said.
"Well, that might not be such a bad idea, although there's no time this morning. If you still feel this way, this afternoon I’ll arrange something for tomorrow."
"Thanks Mom."
"If you’re ready, we'd better get going. You don't want to be late for your first day of school, do you?"
"No Mom, I guess not," I said while shaking my head. I just love the way my hair tickles my ears when I shake my head.
"Well then, stop day dreaming girl and let's get a move on."
With that we were off. It didn't seam to take as long to get to Immigration Manor, the second day. That's probably a good thing, less time to think about what might happen, and less time to get scared again.
Ellen met us as we were walking from the parking lot towards the building where her office is.
"Good morning Edith, Matilda, how are you both today?" she asked.
"We’re both doing fine, although Matilda is a bit nervous," Mom replied.
"Mother!" I complained softly, through clenched teeth.
"What?" Mom asked.
"Don't worry about it Matilda, everyone who comes here is nervous their first day. We have a special program here to help new girl's relax and feel at home. I'm sure you will be feeling like your old self in no time. Shall we go in and get started?" Ellen said, as she held the door.
"I don't know if I want to feel like my old self. My old self is a scared little boy named Matt, who's afraid to leave his mothers side. I think I like my new self better," I said with a little giggle, as I walked past Ellen.
"Well she must be feeling better, she's making jokes," Mom said, shaking her head.
Ellen laughed at both of us as she led us into a small conference room. Seated at the table were Beca, and a lady that I’d never seen before.
"I'm sure you both remember Beca, she has volunteered to be your big sister while you're here, Matilda," said Ellen.
"Why do I need a big sister?" I asked.
"At Immigration Manor, a big sister is a friend and companion, someone to talk to and much, much more. She'll act as your guide, as a private tutor and as your mentor. Beca will help you learn how to be a girl; she will be your constant companion while you're here."
"Wow, with all that I almost don't need any other teachers. When will Beca do her school work?" I asked.
"As I told you yesterday, Beca is one of the top students here. Beca came to me yesterday and requested to be your big sister. Besides it'll give the other students a chance to catch up," Ellen chuckled.
Throughout this exchange Beca sat quietly, until Ellen's last comment.
"Hey, it's not my fault I'm not afraid to use my brain. Everyone here could do much better if they tried just a little harder," Beca said, quickly defending herself.
“Beca please,” said Ellen with a giggle. “Nobody said you should do anything different. And yes the other students could do better if they put forth a little more effort. I’m simply pointing out that helping Matilda is your idea, and that your school work won’t suffer. The other students might not be at Beca’s level, but everyone here is between one and three years ahead of students the same age at other schools. Beca has enough High School credits to graduate; by the time she leaves us, when she’s eighteen, she will have earned a Bachelors Degree from the university.”
“Oh,” Beca said settling back down. “I guess I owe you an apology, I’m sorry for my outburst Ellen.”
“Apology accepted. Although an apology wasn’t needed Beca, you weren’t out of line, just a little overly defensive,” replied Ellen with a large smile. “Now may we continue? Matilda I would like to introduce Miss Wednesday Adams. Miss Adams is our Physical Appearance Specialist. With her help and guidance all of our young girl’s look and present themselves as young ladies. She works with both the genetic and transgendered. It seams that most girls’ today aren’t taught what it means to be a lady.”
With that said Miss Adams rose and offered her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you Matilda. Ellen has told me so much about you. She's obviously very impressed with you, I can see why.”
I shook her hand; “I’m pleased to meet you Miss Adams. Thank you, I think.”
All three of the adults giggled. Beca and I just looked at each other and wondered why? What is it that they know that we don't?
"Wednesday, why don't you and Beca, show Matilda to her room and help her into her school uniform." Ellen said, resting one of her hands on my right shoulder. "Matilda, I want you to remember two things. One, everyone here will do their very best to help you be what you want to be. Two, relax and try not to question what you're asked to do. Some things may not make sense to you at the time, but we've been doing this for a long time and I assure you we know what we’re doing. We'll see you later dear."
With that said Miss Adams escorted me out of the conference room with Beca following close behind. We went down a corridor then we made a right turn, a left turn, through a door and outside.
"Miss Adams, could I ask you a couple of questions?" I decided to ask.
"Of course Matilda, you may ask me anything you like," she said.
"Well, I’m just wondering about your name 'Wednesday Adams'? You're a lot older than the 'Adams Family' movies I've seen. How did you get named after a movie character, when you were born before the movies were made?" I asked.
"While it is true that the movies that you know hadn't been made before I was born. It’s also true that my parents were very fond of the old TV series that the movies were based on. My parents thought it would be 'cute' to name me Wednesday, being that our last name is Adams. You’ll never know how much teasing I endured in school. One year for Halloween, Mom even dressed me up to look like 'Wednesday Adams' from the TV series. The embarrassment from that night hung with me for many months," she confessed.
"Oh, I’m sorry. No, I didn't know about the TV series. I didn't mean to tease you about your name," I said. I hung my head as I softly continued. "I do know what it's like to be teased at school though. You see, I'm the smallest student in the whole fourth grade." I paused for a few moments before continuing. "Do you know what's worse than having a funny name? Being almost ten years old, but not looking like you’re ten years old, AND having a funny name. Everybody says I look like my eight year old sisters twin, lots of people frequently mistake us for twins."
At that Miss Adams suddenly stopped. I’d lost track of our location, we'd left one building and had gone through another one making several turns and we were again outside, and because of the conversation I really hadn't been paying attention.
Miss Adams looked at me closely and said, "Did I hear you correctly, you're eight year old sister is the same size as you?"
I looked up at her and shyly nodded, there's that funny little tickling of the ears again.
"Well, what do they feed children around here? You’re about average for ten where I come from," she said. "So Matilda, what funny name did you get blessed with?"
"My parents named me Matthias! My friends called me Matt. Black Bart and the other bullies call me 'Little Mattie," I said hanging my head in shame.
Miss Adams gently lifted my head. "Nobody around here will ever tease you about your name. You definitely don't look like a Matthias. And I know that you weren't teasing when you asked about my name."
I knew Miss Adams was right, but remembering how I’ve been treated in the past still made me sad. Unfortunately neither Miss Adams nor Beca knew me well enough to know that I could use a hug. I sure miss Mom and Rachael.
"What other question did you have Matilda?" Beca asked trying to get things moving.
"We've come quite a way and I think I'm lost. Can I get a map of the school so I'll be able to find my way around?" I asked.
"That won't be necessary. Because you aren't a full-time student you'll be escorted everywhere you go." Miss Adams said with a smile. "That's part of what your ‘Big Sister’ is for."
"That's right! So let's get moving 'Little Sis" Beca said with a very light swat to my bottom, and a giggle. "We've got to get you dressed and get some work done before lunch."
"Yes ma’am!" Both Miss Adams and I said, with a giggle.
We continued on to the next building, where we went up to the second floor.
"This is the dormitory for the ten through twelve year olds," Miss Adams explained, as we walked down the corridor and entered a large bedroom. "I know you won't be sleeping here, but this is a standard student’s room," Miss Adams said as she started giving me the tour. "All the clothes you'll need during your stay are in this walk-in closet, to your right. Each room has a private bathroom that’s on your left. There's an interconnecting door to the room that would be for your study partner. Of course in your case that room is vacant. Each room also has a work desk with a computer that's linked with the schools networks and mainframe, as well as a small sofa and table so you can just sit and relax when needed. Well that's the rundown on your room. Now then, shall we get you dressed?"
"Well I suppose it is time to get started," I said nervously, trying to force a smile.
“Matilda, before we begin, do you need to use the bathroom?” Miss Adams asked. “It may be some time before you have another opportunity.”
“Well, um . . . I guess maybe I should go,” I said.
“That’s fine dear. I’ll just get your uniform out of the closet and lay everything out on the bed, while you’re in the bathroom,” said Miss Adams. I nodded as I went into the bathroom.
To my surprise Beca and Miss Adams were both still in the room as I came out of the bathroom.
“Matilda, I have a couple of questions for you before we get started. Why don’t you have a seat on the sofa next to Beca,” Miss Adams asked. After I’d joined Beca on the sofa, Miss Adams brought a chair over and sat down in front of us before she continued. “Matilda, my role as the Physical Appearance Specialist is to see that you, as well as all of the girls, give the proper outward appearance. Matilda being that you're almost ten, I'll assume that you know the difference between boy's and girl's?"
"Well yes, I'm pretty sure I know what you mean," I answered.
"So if I show you some pictures of children in swimming suits you'd be able to tell me which are boys and which are girls, right?"
"Umm, yes I guess so."
"That's fine, what do you see in this picture?" asked Miss Adams while handing me a picture.
It was a picture of a boy, kind of cute that appeared to be about twelve-years-old, with short brown hair wearing dark blue brief style swimming trunks. His male body parts while covered were noticeable.
"This is a boy," I said.
"Very good, now what do you see in this picture?"
Miss Adams then handed me a picture of a lovely young girl about the same age, maybe a year older with long brown hair wearing a dark blue one piece tank style swimming suit.
"This is a girl," I said.
"You're sure?"
I looked at the picture again, "Yes."
"Okay, how about this one?"
Miss Adams handed me another picture of the same boy, wearing the same swimming trunks, only his hair was longer. His hair hung down to just below his ears.
"This is the same boy," I said.
"And what do you see in this picture?"
The next picture I was handed started to confuse me. It appeared to be the same boy, but his hair hung down to his shoulders and he was wearing the girl's dark blue tank swimming suit. His male body parts while covered were still noticeable.
"Well I think this is the same boy only with long hair and wearing a girl's swimming suit," I said.
"Are you sure it's not a girl?" asked Miss Adams.
"Well, yes pretty sure," I replied.
"What makes you think that that person is a boy?" she asked.
"Well like I said, he does have long hair and he is wearing a girl's swimming suit, but his umm, umm, boy parts are causing a bulge in the suit," I replied shyly, blushing.
Miss Adams chuckled as she responded, "You're correct Matilda, and his boy parts as you put it are somewhat visible. Now Matilda would you go back to the second picture I gave you and tell me what you see?"
I shuffled the pictures until I came to the one of the girl and looked at it again, carefully.
"This looks like the boy's twin sister," I finally said.
"Matilda, what you're looking at are four pictures of the same person," Miss Adams said.
Nothing could be heard for several seconds as I shuffled back and forth between the four pictures, becoming confessed.
"What happened to his boy parts, were they cut off?" I finally whispered.
"Not yet," Beca said while giggling.
I looked up at Beca, then at the pictures, then back at Beca. "Beca, this is you, isn't it?" I said.
"Yes Matilda," Beca said while still laughing. "Those pictures were taken at about four month intervals. The first two were taken before I came to the Manor."
"But what happened to . . ."
"There still there Matilda," Miss Adams said. "There's a technique used to tuck then away so the outward appearance is that of a girl. That is what this lesson is about. In my role as Appearance Specialist things sometimes it gets a little awkward and sometimes causes some embarrassment. Umm, Matilda, have you ever changed clothes with someone else present?”
Shyly I shook my head.
“Well, have you had to do something that you found extremely hard to do and caused you to be embarrassed?” she asked.
Ever so slowly I nodded.
“Could you tell me about it please?” Miss Adams asked.
Slowly I related the story of using the public restroom at the Crossroads mall.
“Very interesting, what did you mother say or do afterwards?” she asked.
“Well, we stopped and sat on a bench and she put her arms around me. Then she said that she knew how embarrassed I be, doing what I’d just done. But that there was simply no other way, doing hard and embarrassing things is sometimes how we learn,” I said very softly, almost whispering. I’m afraid of where this conversation’s leading. I couldn’t help myself as I started to softly cry. Where is Rachael, Mom, or even Mary Beth when I need them? I don’t know how long I sat there crying, when suddenly I felt someone’s arms around my shoulders. I slowly looked up and discovered that it was Beca. I’m not sure but I think I saw a tear in her eye as well. Maybe Beca is a good choice for my big sister. As I looked at her I suddenly put my arms around her waist and we just hugged each other for a few minutes. After I settled down and had almost stopped crying Miss Adams handed us both some tissue to dry our eyes.
“Matilda, I’m really very sorry about this, and I wish I knew an easier way to do this, but I guess there really isn’t. Would you please stand up and remove you skirt and underwear?” Miss Adams asked. Her words sounded like thunder in my ears.
I couldn’t move. I just sat there hugging Beca as I looked at Miss Adams. Then I looked up into Beca’s eyes.
“It’s okay Matilda; you will only have to go through this once. You’re lucky, because you're so small; Miss Adams is only planning on having you wear two pairs of tight panties. I had to learn how to put on a ‘Gaff’. Would it be easier for you if I left the room?” Beca asked.
Vigorously I shook my head, “Nooo pleaseee stay. I need someone to be with me right now,” I said while still crying softly. I slowly rose while still holding onto Beca’s hand. It took several more minutes before I let go of Beca’s hand and slowly removed my blue skirt and the blue lace panties that I’d put on that morning. The embarrassment I felt, standing in front of Miss Adams, naked from the waist down was like nothing I’d experienced before. I covered my face with both hands, I just couldn't stop crying. Beca got up from the sofa and put her arms around me, momentarily shielding my nakedness. After I’d settled down Miss Adams continued.
If you, my beloved readers don’t mind I am going to leave out the details of what followed. If you have ‘tucked’ before you know the procedure. If you haven’t had the need then these details won’t mean anything to you. Just accept the fact that having Miss Adams teaching me this was extremely embarrassing and the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to me up until that time in my life.
Well, it took all morning, but I’m finally dressed for school. My uniform consisted of two pair of tight cotton panties (to keep things in place), a padded training bra, a white silk camisole with matching panties, a half slip, white blouse, red plaid pleated skirt, white knee socks and black Mary Jane’s. I’m glad I’d gone to the bathroom before this started. Miss Adams was right about that.
“Beca, as we have taken most of the morning getting these necessities taken care of, and do to the fact that Matilda is still quite emotionally exhausted. Why don’t the two of you just stay here for a while? Take whatever time Matilda needs to regain her composure and then bring her over for lunch," Miss Adams said, just before leaving us.
“I’m sorry that was so hard on you Matilda,” Beca said after Miss Adams left, and she once again sat hugging me. “But all things considered you got off easy.”
“W - What do you mean, I g - got off easy?” I said while still crying.
“Well the technique that Miss Adams' teaches is extremely gentle. When I started here a few years ago, Miss Adams wasn’t here. The presentation specialist then was a large woman named Helga Sorenson. Helga preferred a direct hand’s on approach to teaching, where as Miss Adams prefers to talk you through it. What’s worse than Helga’s approach was her lack of compassion. She seemed to take delight in forcefully manipulating the parts into place, as she taught us how to tuck. She would grab and squeeze, pull and push. Oh I tell you, her technique was so very painful.”
“W - What happened to her?”
“I don’t know for sure, but according to some of the girls in the upper years, Helga was lesbian. Now, I know that Ellen is very open-minded about a persons sexual preference. But according to the grapevine, Helga treated all the transgendered boys as rough as she did me. What’s more, I’m told that while she taught the genetic girls to shave or wax, so they would look good in their swimsuits or skirts, she fondled them. Like I said Ellen is very tolerant, except when it comes to the students here. She doesn’t tolerate anything that would jeopardize a student’s health, safety, or the reputation of this school. According to the rumors Ellen, got the evidence she needed and gave it to a friend of hers. The only thing we know for sure is that Helga is gone.”
“Does anyone know where she went?”
“No one knows for sure, but some of the older girls think she is spending some time at a ‘State run Institution of Higher Education’ for the next thirty to fifty years.”
“She’s where?” I asked, not understanding Beca's reference.
“We believe she is at the Utah state prison at ‘Point of the Mountain’. It’s rumored that she was convicted of over twenty five counts of sexual abuse of a minor.”
“Wow, Ellen must have some connections.”
“Like I said, don’t ever cross her. There is nothing more important to her than the physical and mental well being of the students here. Well, you seem to be feeling better, shall we move on to your next lesson?”
“My next lesson, I thought we were going to lunch?” I asked, being very puzzled.
“That’s right sis, Lunch. It’s time you learned to eat like a girl,” Beca giggled.
With that, we got up and went over to the cafeteria where we got our lunches. Beca got a taco salad for herself, mashed potatoes, gravy, and veggies for me.
“Beca, I would prefer the taco salad,” I said politely.
“Not today sis. In fact, for the next couple of days I will be selecting your meals.”
“But why, I don’t understand?” I asked, again puzzled.
“Because that’s what big sisters are for.” Is all she would tell me.
Beca led me to a small dining room, just off of the main dinning room, instead of to the table that we were at yesterday. There were two place settings of silverware already on the table. Beca sat down at one and so I naturally sat at the other. That’s when I began to notice something-strange. The silverware at my place was unusually small, like something meant for a baby.
“What’s with the small fork and spoon?” I asked.
“Well, the eating habits of boys are usually on the over indulgent side. So we always start new girls off with these utensils so they can get into the habit of taking smaller bites. You will need to use these for about the next four days, we’ll see if you are ready to graduate to standard utensils on Monday,” Beca said as if there were nothing unusual about it. “Oh, by the way, we have a set for you to take home with you so you can do your home work.”
“I can’t use these at home. What will the rest of my family say?” I asked.
“Well I don’t know about your family, but when I was at home people came and went at all different times. Meals together as a family were usually few and far between,” Beca said, remembering her childhood. “Anyway the rules say that you are to eat twelve meals with these. You can use them at home and get it over with fast, or you can just use them here and use these all next week. The choice is yours,” she said, as she started in on her salad.
“Well I guess that’s why the choice of the potatoes and veggies,” I said as I picked up what looked like a baby sized spoon, and started in on my lunch. “I guess a taco salad would be kind of hard to manage with these,” I said with a giggle, Beca simply nodded her head.
About the time Beca had finished her lunch and I’d eaten about half of mine, Beca surprised me.
"Matilda, you know what, you’re sure are a lucky girl," Beca said.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you’re Mom really loves you and is okay with all of this."
“Yes, well, my Mother is very special. She understood me and my need to be a girl, even before I understood it myself. You know, I don't know how . . . but she always seems to know when I'm sad or I'm going to cry. I'll bet this morning must have been almost as hard for Mom as it was for me, feeling that I needed her and not being able to be there for me."
I suddenly had a deeper love and respect for my Mother, as I realized how deeply she really loved me. It's kind of funny, but it took explaining it to someone else for me to truly realize just how special my Mother is. I need to have a long talk with Mom tonight and tell her how much I love her and appreciate her . . .
"Yoo hoo; earth to Matilda, are you going to wake up and finish your lunch?" Beca asked, as she gently shook me.
"I'm sorry, I was thinking about my Mother," I said shyly.
"Hey that's okay but you need to finish your lunch. You've got another class to get to,"
"You want me to eat faster, how about giving me a regular fork or spoon?"
"Sorry, that I can’t do, I suggest less talk and more action," Beca said with a giggle, while flexing her arm at the elbow.
It took a bit longer than I expected but I did finished most of my lunch. After returning the dishes to the kitchen Beca led me back to my room.
"I thought I had a class to get to?" I asked. "Why are we back here?"
"You do have a class. I'm your teacher for the afternoon. Today's lesson is ‘Walking’; from now until 2:00 I’m going to teach you how to walk like a lady."
"What's wrong with the way I walk?"
"Nothing, if you want to tell the whole world you're a boy in girl's clothing."
"I'm sorry, I said I'd do whatever I was asked to do," I said shyly. "Where do we begin?"
"That's better," said Beca. She then got a dictionary from the shelves above the computer. "We'll start with this."
She handed me the dictionary, it must have weighed five pounds, bigger than any dictionary I'd ever seen.
"What do I do with this?"
"It's simple, stand up straight, put the dictionary on your head and walk across the room."
That sounds simple enough, so I took the dictionary and went over to the door and put it on my head. The dictionary of course had a mind of its own and immediately jumped off. I picked it up and tried it again. The fourth time it fell I began to think that the dictionary just didn’t like long hair, when Beca offered the suggestion, "Lift your chin."
"What do you mean?"
"The top of your head is flat. If you lift your chin the flat spot will be horizontal and the book will stay up."
"Hey it works," I said. That is until I took a step. After many more failures I’d about come to the conclusion that it couldn't be done. Beca on the other hand was sitting comfortably on the sofa, openly laughing at the antics and contortions I’d been going through in my various attempts.
"Matilda, pretend there's a rope coming down from the ceiling that's attached to the top of your head. It's lifts you up two inches, it straightens your back and lifts your head at the same time."
I followed her instructions, standing up straight and lifting my head at the same time.
"Okay now walk across the room while keeping your back and head in that position."
I followed Beca's instructions and walked across the room, turned and went back.
"Better," Beca said, "Now walk across and back again only this time don't stomp."
"Don't what?"
"Don't stomp your feet as you walk, girl's glide as they walk, while boy's on the other hand stomp around like a herd of elephants."
It took several more times back and forth before I came to the realization of what Beca meant.
"Very good, now put the dictionary on your head and do it again."
I'd like to say that I walked perfectly, but anyone who has been through this little exercise knows that it takes a lot of time to master. But owing to the determination by both Beca and myself, I eventually succeeded in crossing the room and returning, several times without dropping the dictionary.
"That's great Matilda," Beca said, complementing me on the amount of progress I'd made. "Tomorrow, we'll do this again and then we'll tackle the stairs. So how do you feel about today?"
"Well, considering everything that's happened, I really feel pretty good."
"That's great. It's almost 2:00 and there's one more thing we need to do, before we get you changed, so you can go home."
"What's that?" I asked with a smile.
"Well, um . . . You may not like this but . . . oh geeze . . . Look I'm trying to figure out how to do this without you falling apart like you did this morning."
"Well what is it that I need to do?" I asked softly. I almost dreaded the answer to that question, but I had to ask.
"I'm sorry Matilda but I'm supposed to watch you practice tucking. I'm just trying to figure out how to do it without you having to be naked. I know how much that upsets you."
I was scared, Beca was sympathetic, and we both just sat on the sofa looking at each other for a few minutes.
"Would it be easier if I had Miss Adams' come in?" Beca asked.
"Oh no, that wouldn't help at all."
"Well how about this. Would it upset you too much for me to see you in just your underwear?"
“Well, I don't know . . . Umm, I guess not,” I said shyly.
“Okay we'll do it this way. Take off your skirt and blouse. Then go into the bathroom and take off your panties. Open the door a little and put just your hand out holding the panties. Then close the door and put them back on while tucking everything back into place. When you’re done come out and we’ll see how well you did. Do you think you can do that?”
“Well it sounds a lot better to me than me being naked and having you watch me,” I said.
“All right, let’s get started them.”
I slowly took off my blouse and skirt, laying them neatly on the bed and went into the bathroom. I had a little trouble holding things in place while I pulled up the panties the first time; the second time was a little easier. After that Beca told me to get dressed in my clothes, putting the school’s underwear down a laundry shoot in the bathroom. Then Beca took me back to the administration building, and to Mom’s office. The baby-sized utensils had already been delivered to Mom's office, of course she had no idea what there for.
I knocked on Mom’s office door as we arrived.
“Come in,” I heard Mom call out.
"Hi Mom, ready to go?" I asked as Beca and I entered.
"Hello Matilda, hello Beca," Mom greeted us. "Oh Matilda, I heard about your morning. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to be there for you. I know how embarrassed you must have been, how you must have felt."
My Mother of all people (aside from Rachael) could sense my feelings.
"It's okay Mom, you didn't know. Neither of us knew what was going to happen. I guess I had a right to be nervous this morning, I just didn't know why," I said. "Beca was there for me and her being there helped a lot. Beca says that I only have to go through that once, although I do need to practice, it's kind of hard to get everything just right. It's also kind of uncomfortable, but I guess I'll get used to it."
"Oh Sweetheart, I still wish I'd been there to help you through it," Mom said softly.
"I know Mom, if you could have been there you would have, but I'm okay Mom really. Oh Mom, you can help me with another problem though. Some really small silverware should have been delivered."
"Oh yes, they were delivered about an hour ago," Mom said as she opened a drawer and lifted out the silverware, looking at them curiously. "I couldn't help but wonder what something like these would be used for around here."
"They’re part of girl 101. I have to eat twelve meals with these. How are we going to explain these to the rest of the family?" I shook my head while asking for mom's help. I wonder if I'll ever get tired of my hair tickling my ears.
"These are so very tiny. Are you able to get enough to eat with these little things?" Mom giggled as she asked.
"Well it's a slow process, but I did manage to eat my lunch with them," I answered.
"I guess we'll just have to figure something out sweetheart," Mom said. "So Beca, how'd she do with these?"
"Well she did take a lot longer than most new girls," Beca said with a smile.
I turned to look as her in disbelief. I was going to say something in my own defense, when Beca continued.
"I guess that's because she talked the whole time," she said while giggling.
"I was not!" I quickly countered.
Beca just giggled for a few seconds more.
"Of course you weren't, I'm just teasing again. In all honesty Matilda did very well, actually better than most on there first day in girl 101."
"Well that's good to hear, although not entirely unexpected," Mom told Beca. "I suppose you're our escort out today?"
"That would be me," Beca said with a smile and a curtsy.
It was just about 2:30 when we were ready to leave. I’m really beginning to wonder what else goes on here. The security is way too tight for just a school.
“Oh Mom, we need to stop and get me some additional panties,” I said as we were driving home.
“My goodness, you have so many in your drawer now that it takes you two weeks to wear each one once, why do you need more?”
“I know Mom, but I need some that are one size smaller than what I wear. I’m supposed to stay ‘Tucked’ all the time, except when I’m in bed. That requires two tight pairs in addition to my regular underwear.”
“I’ll bet that makes going to the bathroom a bit more challenging?”
“Well yes, it does take a little longer. And I always have to sit to go, but then so does every girl. So I guess I won’t be any different. Except what we do after we’re finished,” I giggled.
Mom chuckled at my feeble attempt at humor, “That’s pretty bad Matilda. You better work on your jokes.”
“Sorry Mom.”
“Oh well, what’s another dozen pairs of panties between friends?”
“Oh Mom, now that’s a real bad, who is it that needs to work on those jokes? Anyway I’m sorry that this will make extra laundry for you. Maybe I should start doing my own laundry, especially with you going to work at the Manor. You aren’t going to have time to do everybody’s laundry.”
“Well maybe I should start teaching everyone do their own laundry. But I think for now I should continue do Matilda’s laundry, we wouldn't want anyone becoming suspicious.”
“You’re probably right about that Mom. Oh Mom, what are we going to tell everyone about the tiny silverware?”
“Well, all I’ve come up with is, I tell everyone that you are being punished for eating like a pig at lunch, and I'm making you use them until Monday to teach you better table manners. What do you think of that?”
“I guess that’ll work, I’m going to have to pretend to be upset at having to use them, won’t I?”
“Yes that would help. Just think about telling your Father about Matilda; that should make you look upset.”
“Mom that would have me shaking so bad I wouldn’t be able to eat, especially if Dad’s there.”
“Well just think of something that makes you sad, and I think we will get away with the story.”
We got home and I changed. Matt had returned once again, but being tucked made everything seam a little different. Rachael got home shortly after Mom and I did and wanted to know everything that happened at school. Of course, I did leave out a few embarrassing details. Hey a girl needs a few secrets, doesn’t she?
So day three as Matilda has come to a close. In three day’s I’ve gone from a scared little boy, to a beauty queen, to terrified, to utterly humiliated, to an average student. I’m almost afraid of what tomorrow will bring. But time waits for no man, or girl in this case. As the night ticked away the sun began to slowly peek over the tops of the Rocky Mountains, slowly bathing the valley with its warming light pushing away the shadows of the night, another new day is dawning.
Beca met us as we arrived at the doors of the administration building and whisked me away. Changing into my uniform was a lot easier the second day as I wasn't quite so self-conscious about Beca seeing me in my underwear.
"We'll do this pretty much like yesterday Matilda. Take off your skirt and blouse and leave them on the bed. Then go into the bathroom and take off your underwear and hand them out. I'll hand you the school underwear, put them on and them come out to finish getting dressed."
"I'm still not sure why I have to change my underwear? It seams like a waste of time, and extra laundry to me."
"Well I don't pretend to know all the reasons, but the rules are very clear. Anyone attending classes at the Manor is to be in school issued clothing at all times."
“You mean that everything you wear, your uniforms and your every day clothes, all your clothes are provided by the school?”
“Yes everything. So let’s not stand around and question the rules, get your clothes off and get into the bathroom,” Beca said while trying to swat my bottom. I saw it coming this time and scooted out of her reach.
“Yes Mom,” I said to Beca with a giggle.
I dressed quickly and we went to my morning class, ‘Voice and Public Speaking. Beca led me to the building with the cafeteria, but this time we went up to a small classroom on the third floor.
“Matilda this is Miss Janis Baker. Miss Baker, this is Matilda.” Beca’s introduction seemed so formal this morning, I wasn’t sure why.
“Good morning Miss Baker,” I said politely.
“Good morning Matilda, it’s nice to meet you. Ellen told me you would be attending class this morning and each day next week.”
“Miss Baker, I don’t see any class,” I said.
“That’s because you're in a class by yourself, in other words this is a class that is held on an as needed basis. When someone needs help with their voice I shift from my regular classes and offer special instruction in voice, tone and pronunciation. I will be listening to you speak and help you make any corrections that are necessary so you will sound proper for a girl of your age.”
“As long as we are talking about age, you do know that I’m almost ten don’t you?” I questioned.
“Well Matilda, I did assume that you are ten although from appearance you look to be eight or nine.”
“That’s okay Miss Baker, a lot of people think I’m only eight. That’s one of the many problems I have to deal with. Most people think that my eight-year-old sister and I are twins. It’s really kind of annoying sometimes.”
“Well now shall we get started? What I’d like you to do is read for me. I have a selection of books and magazines. Pick anything you like and just start reading out loud. I will listen to you, as you're reading I will give you instructions as to changes I want you to make.”
So that’s how my morning went. Quite a switch from when I was young and my mother read to me. Now I’m doing the reading and Miss Baker is doing the listening. Of course she did help me a lot, changing tone, tempo and lots of other things. I spent Friday morning with her, and will every morning the following week. Six days in all, it should have been seven but I took so long getting dressed yesterday that I never made it.
After my voice lesson, Beca and I went to lunch. Today both Beca and I had the same thing, some New England style clam chowder with fresh bread sticks and salad. Everything tasted really good. I guess Beca knew how good the clam chowder here is because she got some for herself as well as selecting it for me. The only difference between us is that I took twice as long to finish. I tell you what; eating clam chowder with that tiny spoon just took so long; a thimble would have been faster. I had to think quickly to overcome the temptation to pick up the bowel and drink it as Matt frequently did. As a young lady such conduct would be unthinkable. So I just kept at it, and at it, eventually I did finish my lunch. It took so long my arm was getting tired.
After lunch we went back to my room for more “Walking,” by the end of the day I could put the dictionary on my head, leave my room walk down the corridor to the stairs and go down to the first floor. Walk to the other end of the building and go up the stairs to the third floor. Walk to the opposite end of the building, down the stairs to the second floor and back to my room. A busy day to be sure, but at least there were no tear causing surprises.
Well I now get two days to relax before starting in again on Monday or do I? Relaxation has different meanings depending on the circumstances you find yourself in, doesn’t it?
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 6
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Will her uncanny mind and intellect get her into trouble . . . once again?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page and Joni W.
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 6
The weekend held for me its own unique challenges. Of course, I’m still forced to accept the disciplinary action for eating like a pig, hee hee. I have to make a fuss, complain, argue and eventually beg about not having to use the baby-sized fork and spoon at each meal. Mom of course never gives in, after all, how could she. We giggle about it when we’re alone, while planning the strategy and tactics to be used at the next meal.
Rachael and I met Mary Beth at Liberty Park.
“Mary Beth, Mary Beth, you have to see the silverware that Matilda has to eat with," Rachael squealed, as soon as we were close enough to be heard, but not overheard. "They're the tiniest things I've ever seen," giggled Rachael, between each word the whole time she was talking.
"Matilda, just what is she talking about?” Mary Beth asked.
"Mary Beth, it's really nothing . . ." I started.
“According to mom," Rachael interrupted, "She’s making Matt use them to teach him a lesson. She says that he needs to learn, that he’s not to eat like a pig. Mom said that his table manners were just so bad at lunch on Thursday that he’ll have to use those baby-sized utensils until Monday. I don't know what it's all about, cuss on Thursday Matilda was, was . . . Well, she wasn't home, anyway she won't tell me what's really going on."
The three of us were sitting on the grass, in our seldom-visited area of the park, as Rachael’s mouth was going ninety miles an hour. I’d been trying to keep the details about my training, how to be a girl, low key. I was a little embarrassed and just hung and shook my head.
"Well Matilda," Mary Beth started, as she snuggled up next to me and put an arm around me, "What's this all about?"
"Mary Beth, it's just something that I have to do," I said, trying not to say too much.
"All right girl, remember this is me you're talking to, Mary Beth. I’m your bestest friend in the whole world. I'm the one who's always protected you, comforted you, loved you and cared for you all these years. Do you remember the promise made to each other, that we wouldn't keep anymore secrets from each other?"
"But Mary Beth, I promised not to talk about it," I whispered.
Through this whole conversation, I sadly hung my head. Then Mary Beth slowly lifted my chin so she could look into my eyes. When I once again looked into those beautiful, loving, soft green eyes of my dear friend Mary Beth, I couldn't help myself. I through my arms around her waist and started crying on her shoulder, sobbing would probably be more accurate.
I forgot about where we were, about the fact that Rachael was with us. I forgot about everything except that my dear friend Mary Beth was holding me in her, safe, strong, protective arms once again. Mary Beth loves me as no one else does. I managed, between sobs, to tell Mary Beth everything that had happened to me over the last four days. I told her about going to see Amanda Reynolds. The things she did, and how she turned me into a beautiful girl. I also told her how I’d fainted when I saw myself in the mirror; I couldn’t believe that I could be the beautiful girl, that I saw. I told her about our shopping trip to the Crossroads Mall. About how scared I’d been when I had to use the ladies restroom. I forgot that I wasn't supposed to talk about Immigration Manor and told her about Miss. Baker and learning to talk like a girl, and about Beca and learning to walk with a book on my head. I told her about having to learn to eat like a girl, which is why I was using the tiny fork and spoon. I even told Mary Beth about when Miss Adams taught me how to tuck my privates out of sight, so I would look like a girl down there. I cried harder as I told her how humiliated I had been, standing naked in front Miss Adams. I cried as I told her all the details of the past four days. After I’d finished sobbing through my sad tale, I just clung to Mary Beth as I continued to cry my heart out.
After a while, I felt someone else’s arms surround me. I looked up through my tearful eyes and saw the sweet smiling face of my mother. How did she get here? Did Rachael go get her or had Mom just sensed that I needed her? I didn't care, my Mother was here and nothing else mattered. I let go of Mary Beth and threw my arms around my Mother.
"Oh Mommy," I sobbed.
"There, there, it's all right Matilda, it's all right . . ." Even with Mom's gentle touch and soothing voice it took me quite a while to settle down so that I could once again make intelligent sounds. "Well Matilda, you’ve had quite a cry. Do you feel better now, sweetheart?"
I could only nod, as I was afraid that if I started talking I'd start crying again.
"Matilda, I suspect you've been keeping a lot bottled up inside, haven’t you dear?”
I just nodded in response to Mom’s question.
“Dear you know that it’s not healthy to keep your emotions bottled up like that. You have to talk with someone about how you’re feeling. You're going through many changes right now. Along with that change will be a lot of emotional stress and the need for an emotional relief valve. Sweetheart you have to talk with someone about how you’re feeling. It doesn't matter if it's me or Jill, Ellen or Beca, it’s even okay to talk with Mary Beth if you feel more comfortable talking to her, just remember your promise to Ellen. It's not that who you're talking to is going to solve your problems, but just talking about what's going on will be emotionally beneficial. You don't want to suddenly break down sobbing in the middle of Mary Beth's party do you?"
"No Mom, I wouldn't want anything like that to happen,” I said. “It’s kind of strange, but you know I do feel a lot better now. I know this sounds crazy, but I feels like a huge weight has been taken away, as if something that had been stopping me from growing is suddenly gone. Mom does that make any sense?"
"Yes dear, it makes a lot of sense. Sometimes we keep things bottled up inside us creating limitations; they seem very real, but only in our mind. These limitations can keep us from growing and reaching our full potential. It usually takes some kind of emotional impact to help us break free of these self-imposed limitations. You may have reached a point where you simply couldn't progress. With all the changes that you have been experiencing lately, your mind has probably been running into those limitations. Knowing that it needed to grow, but those limitations were trying to prevent that growth. The changes you’re going through must have required that you break through those limitations, emotionally break down those barriers that were trying to prevent you from growing. I suspect that from now on there will be no limit to your abilities. I’m sure that you will no longer be the shy timid child I once knew. He was such a tiny thing back then, but he was full of wonder and a craving to learn and experience all mysteries of life. You know Matilda, I think I'm going to miss that little boy of mine, the one I used to cuddle up with and read mystery stories to."
I looked up at Mom; she had tears in her eyes. "Oh Mom, I love you so much. You can read to me any time you want," I said while hugging her tightly.
"Oh Matilda, I love you too dear."
Rachael and Mary Beth were close by listening to every word. Mom and I just sat there and hugged each other for several minutes before either of us moved.
"Mary Beth," Mom said, changing the subject and becoming serious. "I don't know exactly what Matilda told you while she was emotionally out of control. However, whatever she told you, you must keep to yourself. I know how close you and Matilda are, and I know you've promised to keep Matilda's secret. I realize that what I'm about to tell you will probably not make sense right now, but this is very important. Anything Matilda told you, you can never tell anyone else, and I do mean never. Matilda's or someone else's life may depend on you keeping our secret.”
"Mrs. C what are you saying?" Mary Beth asked nervously.
"Just that Matilda may have said some things she shouldn't have," Mom said.
"I'm still not sure what's going on, but if you say it's important Mrs. C and it will help Matilda, or anyone else, then you have my word. I'll never talk about it with anyone," Mary Beth swore.
"Oh, thank you Mary Beth,” I said. “I didn't mean to unload on you like that. I'm really sorry to have gotten you involved in something you might not be ready for."
"Now you hold it right there Matilda. You can unload on me any time you need to. I've told you before, and I'll tell you again. I've always known that you're special, and you’re very special to me. I don't care if you're Matt or Matilda; I love you for the special person that you are. I would do anything in the world that you asked me to, just because it's you doing the asking."
"Oh Mary Beth, you're the one that's special. Thank you so much. I love you too," I said while hugging my dear friend.
"Hey Matilda," Rachael said in that high-pitched voice that she only uses when she's teasing someone. "What about Paul? By the way that you were talking about him on Wednesday, I thought you were in love with him."
"Paul?” Mary Beth asked,”Paul who?"
"Um . . . Paul Smith," I answered shyly.
"Paul Smith, that really cute boy that’s in the fifth grade?" Mary Beth asked excitedly. "Well I guess when school starts he'll be in the sixth grade. Matilda, you have a thing for Paul Smith. Wow! That's just so weird. I do too. Do you think there’s enough of him to share?"
We hugged again while giggling. Mom broke us apart with her announcement as to why she’d come to the park. She was on a mercy mission.
"Well girl's just look at the time. Shall we go home and get some lunch? Oh Mary Beth you're invited as well. I assume you've heard about Matilda's, umm, training utensils?"
"Oh yes Mrs. C. I remember that part of Matilda's story. It should be fun to see her in action," said Mary Beth while giggling. "What's for lunch, if you don't mind my asking?"
"Not at all. As you know Matilda is kind of limited on what she can eat so were having chicken gravy over rice with mixed vegetables."
"That sounds great Mrs. C. Um I’m just a little curious, Matilda’s utensils, just how small are they?" asked Mary Beth.
"Well let's put it this way," mom explained, "You’ll take about twenty minutes to eat your lunch. It will take Matilda about two hours to consume the same amount of food. Of course, she doesn't stay at the table that long. She’s just eating less. I'm guessing she's going to lose about five pounds this weekend."
"Oh Mom, it's not that bad and I'm not losing any weight. At least I'd better not, if I do I’m going to need some new clothes," I said. "Hey maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea, shopping for new clothes can be fun."
"Don't get too excited about going shopping," Mom said. "There's no time for shopping with everything else that's going on. Well now girls, shall we go have lunch?"
"Sure thing Mom, hey Mom, are Karen or Chuck at home?" I asked.
"No, they're both off with friends and Dad's left for the day as well. So you don't need to make a fuss about your small utensils this time."
"Oh gee whiz Mom, you're taking all the fun out of it," I complained, trying not to smile.
"Eating with baby sized utensils is fun?" asked Mary Beth.
"Of course not, using those small utensils is a real drag. It's making a fuss about it that's fun," I answered while giggling.
"Oh you," Mom said, while playfully swatting at my bottom as we walked home.
Soon we were home eating lunch.
"My stars Matilda, those really are small," Mary Beth, said when she saw the actual size of the utensils I’d been using for the last two days.
"Well thanks a lot best friend of mine. How about showing a little moral support?" I asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Mary Beth nervously.
Being that I’d been using the spoon, I picked up the still clean fork and offered it to Mary Beth. "Join me?" I asked while giggling.
Mary Beth took the fork and looked at it suspiciously. "Well, if you can manage to eat with something this small, then I can too."
We spent the next couple of hours in a contest trying to see who could eat their lunch while making the least mess. The problem was we couldn't stop giggling, and the mess ended up being more than twice what one girl would have made.
"Well Matilda, I'm not sure what you're supposed to be learning by using these, but I've never had so much fun eating lunch," Mary Beth exclaimed.
"I’m supposed to get into the habit of taking small bites. To be honest Mary Beth, this is the first time I've had fun with them. At most, meals I have to complain about using them. Thanks for helping me see what I've been missing."
"Hey, it was my pleasure. Say Matilda, are you sure there's no way I can meet the real you before next Saturday?"
"I don't see how you can Mary Beth. I get dressed just before Mom and I leave in the morning, and I change back into Matt as soon as we get home. I guess if you came over one morning next week to get Rachael we'd have a few minutes to chat before Mom and I have to leave."
"That would be just great. What time should I come over?"
"I guess about 8:15 would be about right. Let’s talk with Mom though, just to see what she thinks about the idea."
After we cleaned up the mess we'd made with our lunch, we went to talk to Mom. We found her in her sewing room.
"Hello girls, finally finished your lunch I see," Mom said, chuckling.
"Yes Mom, it’s lots more fun with Mary Beth here," I said.
"Well I umm, noticed. Maybe we should invite her over for every meal. Of course she’d have to stay the whole day as you two take so long to eat.”
"Oh Mom, we weren't in there that long," I said.
"Well dear, you normally give up after about an hour. The two of you spent almost two and a half hours eating and talking, but mostly you spent the time giggling," Mom said. She laughed as she saw the expressions on our faces.
"What time is it?" asked Mary Beth.
"It's almost 3:30 girls, you two started eating about 1:00."
"Oh my goodness, I need to get home," exclaimed Mary Beth.
"Mom, before Mary Beth leaves, we’re wondering if there is a way that she can meet the real Matilda. I told her the only way would be to come over in the morning, just before we leave. What do you think about that idea?" I asked.
"That would be okay. Everyone else is usually gone by then. You two would be able to talk for a few minutes. Then Mary Beth and Rachael could walk back to her house as we leave for the, um well, as we leave. How does that sound to you Mary Beth?" Mom asked.
"That'll work out just great. I won't be able to see you tomorrow Matilda, but I'll see you about 8:00 Monday morning. Is that too early?" asked Mary Beth.
"Oh Mary Beth, 8:00 will be just great. We'll see you Monday morning," I said as I saw Mary Beth out.
The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. Of course, I still had to use my training utensils at each meal. That didn’t bother me too much because I was able to wear my frilly underwear and nighties to bed.
Before I knew it, Monday morning had arrived. There were no trumpets, bugles or fanfare; it was just another beautiful Monday morning. I really like my room being on the east side of the house because I get to enjoy each beautiful sunrise.
Dad left for work just before 7:30 as usual. Mary Beth arrived a little after 8:00. As soon as Chuck saw Mary Beth he got out of the house as fast as he could, he was complaining about a house full of girls again. About 8:30, I was starting to get very nervous, as Karen wasn't looking like she had plans to go anywhere. My problem is that time waits for no man or girl in this case. I needed twenty minutes to change and do my makeup, and it takes another forty minutes to drive to the Manor. I went looking for Mom to find out what she knew about Karen’s plans. I found Mom in the kitchen.
"Mom, what's with Karen today? She's usually gone by now. I can't get ready for school while she's here," I whispered.
"I don't know what's going on, but I'll find out. In the meantime, why don't you get your clothes and go into my room and change. Do your makeup the best you can and put on your wig. Then wait in my room until I come for you," Mom instructed.
"Okay Mom, what will we do if Karen's still here when its time to leave?" I asked.
"I'm not sure; maybe it's time to introduce Karen to Matilda. I'm sure we can trust her to keep our secret," Mom said, somewhat thinking aloud.
"I hope you're right Mom. It's way too soon for anything to leak to Dad," I said, obviously nervous and starting to shake, although not as much as I used to.
"Don't start this now; you won't be able to do your makeup property. If we do have to tell Karen, I want you to look your best," Mom said as she put her arms around me. Mom and I hugged each other for a few seconds, and then I looked up at her and smiled.
"You're right Mom. I’d better just concentrate on today and let tomorrow, take care of tomorrow."
I got my plaid skirt, white blouse, knee socks and sneakers. I'd managed to sneak into Mom's room without Karen seeing me, or the bundle I held in my arms. Darn! Now I’ve gone and wrinkled everything. Oh well I guess there are worse things in life than having to wear a wrinkled blouse. After getting dressed, I did my best at applying my makeup, not as well as Mom would have done. All in all not too bad though, considering this is the first time I’ve done it completely by myself. The wig went on easily. I quickly brushed it out, and it looked great. I slowly turned the doorknob and pulled open the bedroom door just a crack, hoping to hear Mom talking to Karen. Shoot! I couldn't hear anything; I closed the door and waited. Waiting is one of the hardest things for me to do. I nervously paced back and forth, back and forth. Slowly the second hand on Dad's 'Lionel' alarm clock ticked off the seconds. It seamed like it had been an hour, but the clock had only advanced five minutes. Finally, the door opened and Mom came in.
"Matilda, are you ready; there's someone here that would like to meet you," Mom said with a smile. "Matilda, you've done a very good job with your makeup. You still need a little practice, but very good for the first time doing it without help."
"Thanks Mom, you're a great teacher. I couldn't have done this without you," I said.
Mom held out her right hand to me. I nervously put my left hand into hers. Mom just smiled.
"Matilda," Mom said softly. "Please relax dear. Everything is all right, you'll see."
I just couldn't relax, but I forced myself to smile.
"That's better; now please close your eyes dear."
Suddenly my smile vanished and my eyes were wide open, with fear.
"Now Matilda, would I let anything bad happen to you?"
"No Mom, you love me too much to let anything bad happen to me. Something scary enough that I may have to go and change my panties, YES. But not something bad,” I said with a giggle.
"All right then, put a smile on your face and close your eyes, because we've got to get going."
I summoned up all the courage I could muster and did as Mom asked. She led me out of her bedroom and we turned left, so I knew we were going into the living room. I felt the floor change from the hardwood floor of the hall to carpet, so I knew when we entered the living room.
"Oh Matilda you look fabulous!"
I'd recognize that voice anywhere. I started to open my mouth to say hello to Mary Beth when I heard another voice I recognized.
"Yea, for a little squirt you do look pretty good."
My eyes snapped open, and I rushed over and threw my arms around my sister Karen.
"Oh Karen, thank you, thank you," I said.
"Hey relax squirt. Just because I said you look pretty good doesn't mean you need to get all mushy," Karen said, trying to pry my arms loose from around her waist.
"But that means you're okay with this. I mean you're okay with me?" I said excitedly.
"Well it did take a lot of talking by Mom, Rachael and your friend Mary Beth. Who, by the way would appreciate your hugs a lot more than I do," Karen said, as she finally pried me loose from her waist. "And after listening to everything they said, it does make a lot of sense. All the goofy things you do, the friends you have and the strange way that you talk. I guess you probably should be a girl. I hate to say this, but after listening to what everyone said and seeing you like this . . . Shoot squirt, you make a better girl than I do, or probably ever will."
"Thanks Karen. Coming from you that means a lot. That's probably the closest you've ever come to giving me a complement. You're not upset are you, because I'm wearing makeup and you're not allowed to yet?"
"MAKEUP? Why on earth would I want to wear makeup? Now if you were a bit bigger I'd probably ask for your clothes. Being that yours are way too small for me, I guess I'll have to settle for Chuck's hand - me - downs."
"That's okay Karen. I still think it's a complement. Who knows in a few years you may change your mind, and I'll be able to give you tips on how to be a ‘Proper Young Lady’," I said, with a smile and a giggle while quoting Mrs Adams.
"Yea okay, whatever squirt. Just do me a favor and wait for me to ask you okay? Just don't hold your breath, and go easy on the hugging squirt," Karen said.
"Okay Karen it's a deal," I said.
Karen shook her head and went back into the family room to watch TV, probably wrestling or Monster Trucks. Maybe they do make mistakes in heaven, sending down girl spirits into boy bodies and vise-versa. Maybe Karen and I are in the wrong bodies. Oh well, too many questions for this little blond head.
Suddenly I felt someone's arms around me, squeezing me so tight that my private world of thoughts burst, I suddenly found myself thrust back into reality. I do mean squeezing!
"Oh Matilda you really are as pretty as Rachael said you are. We’re just going to have so much more fun together," Mary Beth squealed, as she was squeezing the stuffing out of me.
"Mary Beth, please take it easy. If you don't stop squeezing me so tight, the only fun you’re going to have is watching my eyes pop out," I managed to say, which was good considering I couldn't breathe.
Mary Beth loosened her grip, but did not let go. "Oh I'm sorry Matilda, I'm just so excited. You've been my bestest friend for so many years. I always knew there was something special about you, and now that I see you like this, I can't help but be excited."
"Mary Beth, I'm sure that you and Matilda have lots to talk about and lots of plans to make," Mom interrupted. "But right now Matilda and I have to get going, she’s already going to be late so we do have to be running along."
"Oh my goodness with all this excitement I almost forgot," I said. "Excuse me Mary Beth; I need to go get my training utensils. They need to go back today."
I dashed into the kitchen and got the utensils out of the dishwasher. From there I could see Karen in the family room, just as I suspected, Monster Trucks. I went in and gave her another small hug.
"What's that for," she said, trying to brush me away.
"That's just to say I love you and thanks for accepting me."
"Hey no problem squirt. If you want to be my sister instead of my brother, that's just fine. I think you'll make a better sister anyway. Just stop with all this mushy stuff, okay?"
"Okay Karen I'll take it easy on the hugging. But I do need to ask you a favor."
"What's that squirt? Hmm, I guess squirt isn't going to work anymore is it; well I’ll work on that later. Anyway what's the favor?"
"I need you to keep this a secret, about me being Matilda I mean. Dad doesn't know, Mom thinks it's going to take several months of gentle persuasive talking to get him ready to accept me."
"Sorry squirt, but knowing Dad, it'll probably take something with a little more kick than talking. Mom should get herself a 50 caliber machinegun," Karen said with a laugh. "But your secret is safe with me."
"Thanks Karen, you're the greatest. You know, you probably would make a good brother."
"Wow! A sister and a complement in the same day. What's the world coming to?" By the smile on Karen's face, I knew that she’s just being sarcastic. Her smile faded fast when I tried to give her another hug. "Get out of here squirt, you crazy little . . . Whatever you are. Go on now, scoot."
I giggled and went back into the living room. I gave Rachael and Mary Beth hugs, and then Mom and I left for the Manor.
Beca met us as we got out of our car.
"You're late. Is everything okay?" Beca asked.
"Oh yes, everything's just terrific," I told Beca, as we scurried off to my room. We were moving so fast I couldn't talk, but as soon as we got to my room, I opened up. I told her about my weekend, about my long talk with Mary Beth while I cried on her shoulder. I told Beca how everything I'd been keeping inside of me all boiled out while Mary Bath was holding me. Then I told Beca about this morning and how we had to introduce Karen to Matilda. How surprised I was at how well she responded to the news. I’d been so preoccupied talking to Beca that I didn't notice that I'd completely changed my clothes in front of her. It wasn’t until I sat on the edge of the bed to put on my shoes and socks that I realized what I'd done.
"Did I just do what I think I did?" I asked Beca.
"You sure did, you stripped down, tucked and got dressed without even thinking about it," Beca chuckled.
"Oh well, so much for being shy around you," I said, as I finished putting on my shoes and socks.
"Hey sis I told you, you didn’t need to be shy around me. After all we do have the same equipment," Beca said. "But only for a few more years."
"What do mean 'only for a few more years'?" I asked curiously.
"Well I can't have my SRS until I'm eighteen."
"What's SRS?"
"You've never heard of Sexual Reassignment?'
"No!"
"Oh dear,” Beca said. “Matilda, I’m not sure that I’m the right one to give you that kind of information. I tell you what, tuck that away into the back of your mind, and we'll discuss it later, okay?"
"Well okay, but I won't forget. I guess we should get to class," I said as I finished with my shoes.
After we arrived at my voice lesson Beca excused herself. She said she had an urgent matter to take care of. She said she'd be back before my voice lesson ended, but if she’s late, I should wait for her.
I wonder what could have come up so suddenly. Could it have anything to do with what I told her about my weekend? Oh well I guess if there’s anything that I need to know Beca will tell me.
My lesson with Miss Baker went very well. She's helping me so much with the vocal qualities of my speech. She says that I'm progressing very quickly and that by the end of the week only an experience linguist would be able to tell that I wasn't born and raised as a girl. True to her word, Beca returned just as my time with Miss Baker ended. I'd expected to go to lunch, instead Beca directed me to the administration building.
"What's going on Beca? I thought we'd be going to lunch after my voice lesson."
"Something important has come up; Ellen wants to see you right away."
"So what's it all about?"
"Ellen will tell you."
Good grief, my third day here and I'm in trouble already. At least this time I know it's not for having fun on the school's computer system or breaking through the firewall again. I haven't been in a regular class so it's not for shouting out the answers so fast that no one else has a chance. That only leaves one possibility, my talk with Mary Beth. Oh well, whatever is going to happen, will happen.
Soon we were at Ellen's office and Beca knocked.
"Just a moment," Ellen called out.
We waited for about five minutes before Ellen opened the door, asking us to come in and take a seat, directing us to the chairs in front of her desk. Ellen naturally sat in the leather chair behind her desk.
"Matilda," Ellen started, "Beca tells me you had an interesting weekend. Would you tell me about it please?"
"Well, I guess you're referring to Saturday morning in Liberty Park, with Mary Beth and Rachael?" I asked softly.
"Yes that and also this morning before coming here."
"Well, this morning Karen didn't go off to see her friends as usual. We ended up having to introduce her to the real me. Oh, she reacted so well. All of these years she's been acting like the tough tomboy, but she’s actually very kind and understanding. Just don't tell her I said that, she'll flatten me," I said with a giggle. "Mary Beth was there as well, she was so excited to see me. I think that she squeezed so hard I may have cracked a rib or two. Anyway, everything this morning went really well. Karen knows that Mom and I are gone during the day, but she has no idea where we go or what were doing."
"That's what I understand from what your Mother said," Ellen replied. "So tell me about Saturday."
"Well, on Saturday Rachael and I met Mary Beth at the park. There is this particular area of the park where almost nobody goes. We’ve never seen the grass matted down; there are no trees or shade so most people avoid it. So that's were we meet so we can talk without anyone else around. We met about 10:00 in the morning. Rachael was laughing the whole time as she told Mary Beth about the small utensils I’d been using. Mary Beth wanted to know why I was using them. I told her it’s just something I needed to do and it was really no big deal. I guess I was a little sad and my head was hanging down a bit. Then Mary Beth took me in her arms, she lifted my chin so she could look into my eyes. All of a sudden, I started crying and couldn’t stop. I've always felt so safe and protected, whenever Mary Beth wrapped her arms around me. It’s not like when Mom hugs me. I can’t really explain it. I just feel something different when Mary Beth’s arms are around me. Anyway, I guess all the stress of the week before, and all my emotions caught up with me, along with my dear friend holding me so close. I just couldn't stop crying, I remember most of what I told her, but I don't know if I remember everything. Maybe if Rachael were here she could fill in the missing pieces."
"Your mother and the school's administrator are on there way to talk with Rachael, and if possible Mary Beth as well," Ellen said.
"This is that serious? You're bringing Rachael and Mary Beth here?"
"No, they won’t be brought here. There just going to talk with them privately, probably at your home. Rachael has only been here once and probably doesn't remember the way. Mary Beth has never been here and they wouldn't bring her here unless it’s deemed necessary, and yes Matilda, any breach of security is deemed extremely serious. Remember what I told you last Wednesday about the very existence of this school being a closely guarded secret. No one is to be told about this school."
"I don't think I told Mary Beth it’s a school. I don’t think I use the schools name, and I know I didn't describe how to get here. I’m pretty sure I only told her the names of some of the teachers and what I had to do."
"Well, if that's the case there won't be a problem. As long as Mary Beth doesn't know the name or location of the school, all they’ll do is talk to them and everything will be fine," Ellen said. "Thank you for being honest with me Matilda. That’s something we expect of everyone that comes here. Girls, it's going to be at least an hour before we hear anything. You might as well go and get your lunch now. Beca, after you’ve had your lunch please take Matilda back to her room. Matilda, I’d like you to go ahead and change into your clothes. Then I'd like both of you come back here. I have a test I want you to take Matilda, which will take about two hours. We should also have some news about Rachael and Mary Beth by then."
"All right Ellen. We'll see you in about an hour," Beca said.
Beca and I got up to leave. As we got to her office door I stopped, turned and went back to stand in front of Ellen.
"Ellen, I'm really very sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble," I said humbly.
"Oh, I know you didn't dear. It'll be all right Matilda, and everything will work out. Now go and get your lunch dear," Ellen said with a smile.
As I got back to the door where Beca waited for me, she put her arms around me and gave me a hug. I really needed that right then. She kept one arm around me as we went back to the cafeteria.
There wasn't anyone in the cafeteria when we got there. We went into the kitchen looking for one of the staff, but we didn't see anyone at all. What we found were a couple of plates with sub sandwich's, chips and bananas, covered with plastic wrap and a note -
Mr. Roberts
Beca and Matilda were with me during lunch. Would you please leave out something for them on the lighter side please? I'm sure neither one will feel like eating much, but they will need something.
Thank You.
Ellen H.
"Ellen thinks of everything doesn't she," I said soberly. Beca just nodded, as we picked up our plates and went to a table to sit down.
"I'm sorry about all of that Matilda, but after you told me about your weekend, telling me you'd told Mary Beth everything; I had to tell Ellen. We all like this school, nobody wants to move again."
"What do you mean, move again?" I asked.
"Well, Ellen didn't say anything, but according to what I've heard from the older students, the biggest reason the school had to be moved from the Ohio facility was do to a major breach in security."
"Beca, I've wanted to ask a question, but don't really know who would be the right person to ask."
"What question would that be?"
"Well, I'm not sure you're the right person to ask either but . . . What kind of school is this really?"
"Matilda, what do you mean?"
"Before I answer that question let me tell you a little more about me. My teachers at Whittier Elementary have told my parents several times that I'm the most intelligent student they've seen in several years. They say I should be advanced a year, maybe two, so I will find school challenging and interesting, instead of too easy and boring. Either that or I should be in a private school. Mom won't let them advance me because of my size. She thinks the problems I have at school, you know, always tormented and picked on by the bullies, would only get worse. Dad says that if his taxes pay for public education then that's good enough. Even though Dad won't send me to a private school, I've checked out several via the internet on the school's computer. I can't have one at home anymore. Of course, I did get into trouble for breaking through the schools firewall."
“You did what to the school’s computers?” Beca asked.
“I found a hole in the software firewall and snuck outside the school system to do a search on private schools within a two hundred mile radius. I studied all the different schools; I remember most of their names. You know I don’t remember this one showing up in any of the searches. Anyway, back to my question. I'm talking about the security around here. Of all the schools, I checked out, none of them have this kind of security. I mean, the security around here is what I'd expect to see around a top secret military installation or at least something along that line."
Well now I’ve done it. I just jumped in with both feet. I just hope it's not too deep, and I hope its water and not quicksand.
"Matilda, there are some times when it's best not to ask too many questions."
I started to ask another question when Beca beeped. She hung and shook her head, then she slowly reached into the pocket in her skirt and pulled out a pocket computer similar to the one I'd seen Ellen use last week.
"Well that's the end of lunch; Ellen wants us back in her office right away. She says that it doesn't matter how you're dressed, as long as you’re dressed," Beca said as she read message on the screen.
"Beca how long have you had that pocket computer?"
"My PDA, I received it my second day here. Everyone here has one; they’re linked to the schools systems. However, you didn't see it; you don't know about them and will never discuss them with anyone. Is that understood?"
"Yes Beca, I think I’m starting to understand," I said. I now knew almost more than I wanted, not the answer to the question I'd asked. Then again, maybe the lack of an answer was actually more of an answer.
We quickly and quietly returned to Ellen's office. The door stood open, but we knocked anyway.
"Come in girls," Ellen said cheerfully. "Good news, Rachael and Mary Beth's stories match up with yours Matilda. So although there was a breach of security on your part, it was very minor and there's no problem. You understand Matilda that things could have been much worse."
"Yes Ellen, I understand that now. Beca explained lot’s of things during lunch. I'm very sorry for any trouble I've caused."
"That's all right Matilda,” Ellen said while casting a questioning look at Beca. “What I’d like you to do now though is take a test. The school's administrator has approved my giving you the full test instead of just the preliminary version that we’d planned. I'm also to arrange for Mary Beth to take it; I'll have to arrange some time and space at Whittier Elementary this week so we’re not interfering with their schedules once they start classes. This is something we usually give to a large group of children at the same time, several hundred in fact, all across the country. Of all those we give the test to, we usually offer twelve to sixteen students a place at this school. Even though you've only been here a few days, from the reports I've been getting from the staff and the students that have met you, and the research I've done, I think the test isn't really necessary, but a formality. Because I want you to take the full test, it will take about four hours, instead of the two hours I’d mentioned earlier, although no one has ever finished it. Because it'll be after 5:00 before you leave I've asked your Mother to bring some of your boy clothes for you to change into to go home in."
"Four hours, what kind of test is it?"
"We don't normally tell people about the test, but from what I've learned about you it won't matter if you know before or not, you'd figure it out as you go. It helps us collect information about you and your personality, your likes, your dislikes. Whom you consider close friends, and how they feel about you. In addition, how you would react to different situations. Well, that's enough talking about it; let’s get you started on it. Would you please come with me Matilda? Beca would you please go to Matilda's room and collect her clothes and take them to Edith's office, she'll be changing in there."
Ellen led me to the conference room where I'd met Miss Adams. On the table, I saw a stack of papers and several pencils.
"Matilda, start with the top page. When you’re finished with that one, turn it face down and go on to the next page. Work quickly and do as much as you can. I'll come back in four hours, okay dear?"
"Okay Ellen," I said as I sat down and picked up the first page.
Well this has been a long three hours and forty-five minutes, and one of the most unusual tests I've ever seen. Most tests usually ask the same question in two or three different ways, not so with this one. In almost four hours, I’ve only seen four questions that were asking for the same information in different ways, and those seemed to be asking about friendship, honestly and loyalty. Yeah, extremely odd things to have on a school test. There's still a lot more to this school than anyone is telling me, or mom. I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to figure it out, but I will eventually, I always do. Nobody can keep a mystery from me for long. I wonder if there are cameras in this conference room, and do they know I finished this test about fifteen minutes ago? What was it Ellen said; nobody has ever finished this test?
Just then, the door to the conference room opened, interrupting my train of thought, and in walked Mom and Ellen.
"Well Matilda, how are you doing?" Ellen asked.
"I’m finished," I said softly, but with confidence.
"What, you’ve finished?" Ellen was shocked.
"Well actually I finished about fifteen minutes ago," I said.
"Nobody's ever finished this test! Not in this country at least," Ellen said as she started flipping through test sheets, looking at a couple of my responses on each page. "This is going to take some time to review and evaluate. I’ll need to consult with the rest of the psychiatrists. Good heavens, I need to call Katherine at Hayfield. I wonder if they've ever seen anything like this before. If I hurry, I can catch her before she goes to bed."
"Ellen, is everything all right?" Mom asked.
"What?" Ellen asked. "Oh yes, fine umm fine. Oh Edith, take Matilda to your office, she can change there. I'll have someone come to escort you out to your car. Oh, Matilda you're not to see Mary Beth until she's taken the test. I'll tell you when it's okay."
Ellen seemed to be very distracted, shaking her head and mumbling as she left the conference room.
"Matilda, what did you do?" Mom asked. "I've never seen Ellen so, so . . . I'm not even sure what word describes it."
"Well, I guess I did something that's never been done before. Ellen said that nobody’s ever finished those tests," I said.
"And you did?"
"Uh Ha"
"Oh my, well I told Ellen you were smart, also what your teacher said last year. Well, we'll just have to deal with it tomorrow. Right now dear, we need to get you changed and get home."
"Okay Mom."
After we got home, Mom called the Phelps's home and talked with Mary Beth. She explained that she wouldn't be able to see Matt for a few days. She also told her, that someone from Whittier Elementary would be calling to talk with her Mother, about taking a special test before school has even started for the year. She should tell them yes, she'd be happy to, and go take the test. I guess Mary Beth asked why or what’s it’s all about. All I know is that Mom said, “Trust me Mary Beth, this is important.” “Yes Mary Beth, it does have to do with your friend Matilda.” I guess Mary Beth understood because Mom said “Good bye Mary Beth” and then she hung up.
So ends Monday. To say that today had been exciting wouldn't be exactly accurate. The day has definitely been enlightening. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m ever going to have a day that is just . . . normal.
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 7
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
What do you mean MY graduation?
By the way, can I take this handsome guy home with me?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page and Joni W.
for their kindness, help, support and input.
I’d also like to thank Erin for her artwork.
Chapter 7
Tuesday was as close to being normal a day as I’ve seen for . . . Gee wiz, has it really only been one week, it sure seems like it’s been a lot longer. My morning voice lesson with Miss Baker went very well, after that Beca and I went to lunch. This is the first time that Beca let me select my own lunch, since becoming my big sister. Both the main choices were tempting. I’ve always liked to try new things, so I selected the New Orleans style seafood gumbo. It came with fresh bread sticks and a small salad. After getting my lunch, I’d started walking towards the small dining room that Beca and I had been using.
“Hey Matilda, just where do you think you’re going?” Beca asked.
“I'm just going to our little dining room,” I said.
“No, no,” Beca said. “We only use that dining room when someone is in training; you know trying to become passable. Most people feel embarrassed by using those small utensils. We don't want to embarrass anyone; we're here to help and to teach. You've completed that training, so we’ll eat at my usual table from now on.”
“Hello girls,” I said as we arrived at the table. I let Beca set down her tray first so I’d know where I should sit.
“Matilda, you’re Beca’s special project?” Angel asked.
“What do you mean by 'special project'?” I asked.
“Well, Beca hasn’t been here for lunch with us since last Wednesday. When we asked her why, all she’d tell us is that she was working on a special project,” answered Kate
I looked at Beca. “So now I’m a special project?” I asked.
“Well, yes,” Beca answered. “I mean you aren’t actually a student here. After all, I’m the one who went to Ellen and asked to be your big sister. It’s not like there is extra credit for helping or anything like that. It’s just my way of saying, I think you're special and I wanted to help you if I could. The only thing I'm getting out of this is one - another friend, and two - the enjoyment of helping someone become what they want to be.”
“Thanks Beca, I’ve come to realize just how special you are as well,” I said while leaning in her direction.
“Easy there Matilda, I know how fond you are of hugging, but this is neither the time nor the place,” Beca said.
“What, you girls don’t hug?” I asked.
“Oh sure we do,” Beca said. “We just don’t get as carried away with it as someone who’s only six days old.”
“Beca, what do you mean only six days old?” asked Kimberly.
“Well, to be honest with all of you,” I said with a shy smile. “This is only the sixth day that I’ve been dressed and out of the house as Matilda.”
“You mean that last Wednesday was . . .” Kate started, the look on her face told the rest of what she was going to say, she was stunned.
“Was only my second day out,” I said with a smile. “We refer to last Tuesday as ‘Matilda’s Birthday’. That was the first time I was ever fully dressed as a girl.”
“But I thought that it was Rachael that was transgendered?” Frank said.
“Sorry about that Frank,” I said with a little more confidence. “After everyone told us about this school, Rachael and I tried to switch rolls, well sort of. She tried to act like a scared little boy and I tried to be more confident in myself. According to Ellen, we fooled two of you. I guess you were one of them Frank. I want to thank you, all of you. I was more than just a little scared when Ellen separated Rachael and me from Mom, but all of you were so kind. You all made us both feel right at home, just like one of the girls. I hadn't felt that good since I was in Kindergarten with all my friends.”
“So let me get this straight, you’ve only been dressing full time since last Tuesday?” asked Kate.
“Well actually I can’t dress full time,” I answered. “I can only be Matilda when my Dad is at work. He doesn’t know about me. Dad’s an ex-marine and Mom thinks it will take several months of talking to get him ready to accept me. My older sister, Karen, thinks that Mom should get herself a 50 caliber machinegun.”
Every one chuckled at that one. I’m sure some of them could relate to my situation.
“Matilda, I don’t know how your Dad's going to react, but I can tell you that I’m jealous,” complained Angel.
“Yea, me too,” said Kimberly.
“You're jealous, of what, me?” I asked.
“You bet I’m jealous of you, it took me four months to look and sound as good as you do,” said Kimberly.
“It was about five months before I had anywhere near that kind of confidence in myself,” added Angel
“So how come you look and act so natural if you’ve only been dressing for six days?” asked Frank.
“Stop right there Matilda. You can't start telling them your story right now,” said Beca abruptly. “Sorry girls, but I heard part of her story from Ellen. It seems that when Matilda starts talking about when she started dressing and how she came to the realization that she should be a girl, she goes into some kind of trance and talks for about an hour without stopping. I’m sorry but we just don’t have that kind of time right now; we’ve all got classes, and need to get going. Maybe we can have her tell us her story another day.”
“Ok Beca, no long story,” I said with a little giggle. “Let’s just say I’ve always felt like a girl. All of my friends are girls; we talked together, we played together, we grew up together, we've just naturally act like each other.”
“So I guess that brings up the question we asked last Wednesday, why are you here?” asked Kate.
“Well, my psychiatrist, Jill Morgan, knows Ellen,” I told them. “You see I’ve been invited to a birthday party as Matilda. Jill told my Mother that Ellen could help me learn to pass as a girl. We really had no idea what was going to happen when Mom first contacted Ellen. The chain of events that has followed that first meeting are far too numerous to mention. I’m not entirely sure what is going to happen from this time forward, but whatever happens I know that I’ll face the future as Matilda, not the timid little boy that I once was.”
“Well I don’t know what you were like before you came here,” said Lizy. “But you have certainly changed from what you were last week. You're much more open, not only with us but also apparently with yourself. It’s like you're a whole different person.”
“You really think I've really changed that much?” I asked, almost surprised. “I did have some things happen last Saturday that I guess did change my life. The way Mom describes it; I broke through some mental barriers that were stopping me from growing. She doesn't think that anything will be able to stop me from becoming who I want to be.”
“Well I obviously don’t know what may have happened,” Lizy said. “But from our conversation last Wednesday and now, you're differently a different person. Last Wednesday I'd have said that you were about eight years old, but from our conversation today I’d guess that you were maybe fourteen. Granted a small fourteen, but from your communication skills, I’d say about fourteen.”
“Thank you very much Lizy. My teachers at school wanted to advance me a year or two, but Mom wouldn’t let them. I guess now they’ll have to move me up a grade or two. There’s no way I’ll be content to stay in the fourth grade when I know I’m capable of doing so much more. As for being small, maybe I should carry around the dictionary that Beca had me walking with. I could use it as a booster seat," I said with a giggle.
"Beca," exclaimed Kate. "You didn't make her walk with that huge dictionary on her head, did you? That thing's so big, putting that much weight on her head will stunt her growth."
"Oh come on Kate, it's not that big," Beca exclaimed defending her actions.
"Not that big! In LA, I've seen bag ladies living in boxes smaller than that dictionary. That thing will put enough pressure on her spine to cause back problems for the rest of her life," Kate stated.
"Kate, you've got to be joking," Beca said.
"Of course I’m joking Beca," said Kate laughingly. "'But you should have seen the look on your face, priceless."
We all laughed at how well Kate had kept us all wound up right to the end.
“Well that's enough of that, as much as we are learning about each other,” said Beca. “We’re all late for class now. If you hadn’t noticed we are the only ones left in the cafeteria.”
“Oh dear I’m sorry, I didn't realize I'd been talking so long,” I said as we quickly took our dishes and trays back to the kitchen.
“That’s okay, it’s not your fault Matilda. We were all talking and not paying attention,” said Frank.
“Besides, it was really very interesting getting to know you better. We also don't get a chance to tease Beca very often,” said Kate. They all chuckled and nodded in agreement.
“Thank you all, I really enjoyed it as well. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said as they left. “Beca I hope none of them get into any trouble because of me.”
“Oh they won’t,” Beca said. “Student relations are one of the top priorities around here. There will never be a problem of being late for a class if you were helping another student with a problem.”
“But I’m not really a student.”
“That’s okay Matilda; you’ve been here long enough to have a reputation with most of the staff. Everyone here thinks of you as a student.”
“Beca, that's crazy. I've only been here four days, and I’m only going to be here three more days.”
“Never try to out guess tomorrow Matilda. You’ll lose every time,” Beca said with a giggle.
“Okay, okay. What’s on my schedule for this afternoon big sister?”
“This afternoon and for the rest of the week you will be working with Miss Adams.”
“But I thought I only had to see her once!” I said nervously.
“Hey relax Matilda. Miss Adams covers all areas of physical appearance and presentation. Giving you instructions on tucking is a minor part of her role. I’ve taught you the basics of walking like a girl, Miss Adams will expand on that as well as sitting and many other areas of what it means to present yourself as a proper young lady.”
“Thanks for explaining that to me Beca. You know that I’m still nervous about being undressed around most people." I took a deep breath and I was ready. "Okay I’m ready, lead on sis.”
Beca led me to a large room on the third floor of the administration building, and I do mean a large room. It looked like a ballroom, with between thirty to forty chairs, in many different styles, positioned at different intervals around the walls. Miss Adams was behind a desk just inside the door. Against the wall, behind her was a table with lots of different shoes.
“Hello girls, I was beginning to wonder what was keeping you. Hello Matilda, it’s very nice to see you again,” Miss Adams said as she rose to greet us.
“Hello Miss Adams. I guess that we are late because of me. The other girls were asking me questions and I guess we all lost track of the time. We all learned a lot about each other,” I said
“That’s not a problem Matilda, I’m somewhat flexible, but we do need to get started.”
“Certainly, what would you like me to do?” I asked with a smile. Beca took a seat on one of the nearby chairs and neatly folded her hands in her lap.
“Matilda, have you ever worn shoes with heels?”
“Not really, just sneakers and these Mary Jane’s. Oh wait, there was the shoes we borrowed from Amanda Reynolds; they had about an inch and a half heel on them. I wore them Tuesday afternoon and then around here on Wednesday of last week.”
“How were they to walk in?” Miss Adams asked.
“Well they did take some getting used to on Tuesday, but I didn’t have any trouble on Wednesday.”
"And Wednesday after you got home, how did your feet feel?"
"They were fine, walking without the heels did feel a little funny, after I took them off."
“Very well, I think we should start today with a two inch heel and see how you do with those. By Friday, we should have you walking comfortable in a three-inch heel. A young lady below the age of sixteen shouldn’t be wearing shoes with more than a three inch heel.”
Miss Adams reached behind her and selected a pair of shoes with a two-inch heel. “Please change into these shoes and we’ll get started.”
I spent the afternoon walking back and forth across the room, from one chair to another where I’d sit gracefully, keeping my knees together, tucking one foot behind the other. I’d then rise and cross to a different style of chair. Some were shorter, some taller, some padded lightly and some were overstuffed. Each style of chair held its own challenge in maintaining, as Miss Adams put it ‘A Proper and Dignified Appearance’. By 2:00, I was ready to call it quits and go home, my feet and ankles hurt and I would have preferred to go back to my room bare foot. Miss Adams obviously knew what all that walking in heels that I wasn’t accustomed to would do and how my feet would feel. To my surprise, she pulled a pair of pink fuzzy slippers out of her desk drawer for me.
“Here Matilda, wear these back to your room. I’m guessing that you came to the school in your sneakers today?” she asked.
“Yes I did, Miss Adams.”
“Those will be fine for your drive home. When you get home, I don’t want you to wear anything on your feet except slippers for the rest of the day. Your feet and ankles need time to rest, all right dear?”
“Yes Miss Adams, I understand. I do have a pair of comfortable slippers that I can wear. And Miss Adams, thank you for your help and concern.”
“You’re welcome Matilda. I’ll see you tomorrow dear.”
“See Matilda, Miss Adams really is a very kind and understanding person,” Beca said as we walked back to my room.
“You’re right Beca, I should know by now not to judge people based on first impressions!”
As I began changing my clothes, I re-started my analysis of this school. After all, how could it be that just any pair of shoes Miss Adams picked up would fit me perfectly? You can't say that, they have shoes for the average ten year old because I'm not your average ten year old. As far as sizes go, I'm bailey average for an eight year old, so everything here that fits me they've had to custom order. Now of course the next question is why would they go to all this trouble and expense for someone that's only going to be here seven day's? It just doesn't make sense; it's like everything else around here, strange and mysterious. Each day I keep adding more pieces to the puzzle, the problem is that the puzzle is growing in size faster than I'm collecting pieces. There's one thing that I'm sure of, there's more going on here than meets the eye. It just doesn't add up to being just a school, the security, the remote location, Beca raving about the computer systems, but I can't even get near a computer to try it out. Oh well, I have a few more days to see what I can figure out.
After I'd changed, Beca took me to Mom's office so we could go home and I could rest my tired feet.
Wednesday was almost identical to Tuesday, the only thing different occurred at lunch. When Beca and I arrived at our table, Kimberley and Angel weren't there. In their places were two attractive young men.
"Hello Matilda, it's nice to see you again," one of them said.
"Hi Matilda, how was your voice lesson today?" asked the other.
"Hello," I replied politely. "Uh Beca, I'm a little confessed, who are these young men, how do they know me and where are Kimberley and Angel today?" I asked quietly.
"Oh Kimberley and Angel aren't here today," Beca replied with a giggle. "I'd like to introduce you to some friends of ours. Matilda this is Nicholas, we call him Nicky." Pointing to the young man seated where Angel had been the day before. "And this is Jonathan," she said indicating the young man sitting in Kimberly's place.
I thought for second, and then asked "No nickname?"
"No, I like my name just the way it is," replied Jonathan.
It took me another second to work things out in my mind. I turned to Jonathan "You're Kimberley!" I said.
"I told you she was smart and quick too," said Beca while shaking her head and giggling.
"What gave it away?" Jonathan asked.
"The name," I said. "Well, not the name itself, but rather the way you said you didn't need a nickname. I'll make a stab in the dark and guess that Nicholas is Angel's male half?"
"I guess you're right Beca, were not going to sneak anything past Matilda," said Nicky.
"Sorry about that," I said. "But before I started school my Mom read to me almost every afternoon. My favorites were the ‘Sherlock Holms’ mysteries. I guess my mind kind of developed along those lines, nobody can keep a mystery from me for long."
"So do you write mysteries as well?" asked Nicky.
"You know, I’ve never tried writing mysteries, that might be kind of fun. I’ll have to think about that, but right now no, I just solve them. I guess that's why I'm also good with computers and security systems; I look at them as just another mystery to solve. Speaking of mysteries, why are you two dressed as young men today?"
“We thought we’d introduce you to the boys we once were,” said Jonathan.
“Also, sometimes there are advantages to appearing male,” said Nicky.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Well . . . When the school goes to a concert the line to use the women’s restroom is usually very long, while the line for the men’s is usually short,” said Jonathan.
“That hardly seems like a good reason to appear as someone you’re not,” I said. I was somewhat puzzled by the pathetic reason given.
“Well there is also the ball-room dance class. Two people appearing to be the same gender, dancing together is still considered to be inappropriate in most social gatherings,” said Nicky.
“Then there are also the field trips, if you and your study partner . . .” Kate started to say.
“Well girls I think that’s enough on that subject,” Beca said interrupting Kate. “We don’t want to be late for class again.”
After the other girls, and boys, had left, I couldn’t help myself, “Beca, why did you cut of Kate that way? I’m just trying to understand why someone who knows that they are truly female would want to appear to be male. “
“Matilda, do you remember what I said Monday about asking too many questions?” Beca asked.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well this is one of those times. Too much information can be dangerous, not necessarily to you but to others as well.”
“I’m sorry Beca; I guess I was out of line.”
“No Matilda, you're not out of line. You’re just so intent on collecting information to solve what you see as a mystery, to the extent that you’re overlooking, what could be, other possible dangers.”
“You know Beca, you’re not really helping. The lack of information that you keep giving me is almost more information than I’ve been getting from the others,” I said. I couldn’t help but chuckle and smile from ear to ear.
“All right Matilda enough of that. Let’s get you to class, Miss Adams is waiting.”
“Very well Beca,” I answered with a giggle.
With that, we hurried off to the ballroom where Miss Adams was indeed waiting. I spent the afternoon the same as I had the day before, walking back and forth from one chair to another while, wearing shoes with two-inch heels. Miss Adams told me that on Thursday and Friday I’d be wearing the three-inch heels.
Thursday was pretty much the same as Wednesday. Nicky and Jonathan again joined us for lunch; the conversation was pleasant and cheerful, but held no new information. My afternoon class with Miss Adams went pretty much the same as the day before. I was wearing the three-inch heels. Near the end of class, Miss Adams put on some music. She explained that it was time to learn how to dance as a young lady, not any of the silly shaking and wiggling that most of the young people do today. I’m to learn real dancing, ballroom dancing. I spent the last hour with Miss Adams teaching me how to waltz.
As Beca and I were going back to my room, her PDA beeped.
“Ellen wants to see you after you’ve changed,” Beca said, reading the message on the screen.
“Any idea what it’s about?” I asked.
“It doesn’t say, just that she wants to see you. You haven’t been playing on any of the school’s computers have you?” Beca asked jokingly
“What, me on the school’s computers? I’m just a silly little girl. Besides when would I have had the time to be playing around on one of the schools computers? The only time I’d been alone was when you were in the bathroom this morning, while I was changing.”
“Wait a second, I wasn’t in the bathroom while you were changing this morning,” Beca said. “Come to think of it; you’ve never been alone.”
“No I haven’t, but I did have you going for a second, didn’t I?”
“What am I going to do with you,” Beca said, playfully slapping at my shoulder.
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to chase after me,” I said. I dashed out of her reach and raced back to my room. Beca was hot on my tail the entire time. We were laughing so hard when we got to my room we both collapsed, me on the bed and Beca on the sofa.
“Hey sis, if you wanted a class in physical education you should have said so,” Beca said after she caught her breath.
“Why would I want to be in a physical education class? What, do you think I enjoy having bigger kids teasing me and picking on me because I’m so small? No thank you.”
“Matilda, that sort of thing doesn’t happen here. Has anyone here at the Manor teased you or made you feel bad, with the exception of Miss Adams last Thursday.”
“Well actually, no Beca, everyone has been very nice. I keep forgetting how different things are here, compared to the school I’m used to.”
After I changed, Beca and I went over to Ellen’s office. We knocked and Ellen invited us in.
“Good afternoon girls,” Ellen said
“Hello Ellen, what may I do for you?” I asked.
“Oh, I just wanted to tell you that Mary Beth has taken the test. You can see her any time you want,” Ellen said. “But please don’t discuss the test with her. She has only taken the first of the two, where you took both tests at once. I still need to do some research and possibly have her take the second. After a lot more research and evaluation by the others, we may come up with a third test for you to take Matilda.”
“Thank you Ellen, that’s just what I needed to hear, more tests,” I said sarcastically. “Anyway I know that Mary Beth will be delighted to see me again, she’s been calling each day, and after all, her party is Saturday. It would have been a huge waste of time for me to go through all of this and then not be able to go to her party.”
“Well you have a good time Saturday dear, and remember anything to do with the Manor is a forbidden subject.”
“I’ll remember,” I promised.
Well, Friday morning has arrived; the sunrise was as beautiful as any I’d seen. This will be my last day at the Manor, I can’t believe it, I’m actually sad that my time there will be ending so soon. I’ve made so many new friends and I’ll miss them all so much.
Mom noticed that I was sad, “Matilda, what’s the matter dear?”
“I’m just a little sad this morning, Mom. This will be my last day at the Manor and I’m going to miss being with Beca and the other girls. I know that I’ve only been there a little while, but in that short time we’ve become very good friends.”
"I know dear, change is hard sometimes. You've experienced more change, in your life, in the last two weeks than most people do in years. You wait and see dear, everything will turn out bright and cheerful.”
“Thanks mom, I’m not sure how bright and cheerful the future will be, but at least today and tomorrow Matilda is going to enjoy herself.”
Beca met us as we arrived at the administration building and escorted me to my room. My room; isn't it odd how we form attachments to objects and things. I've only been here seven days and I've referred to it as my room since the second day, even though I knew I'd only be here for seven days. I've come to think of this school as home; it's the only place I've been free to be myself. In these short seven days, I've come to know and love everything and everyone here at Immigration Manor. I'm going to miss them all so much.
As we arrived at my room and we went inside, I paused to look around. I wanted to take a mental picture, recording in my mind every detail. I was also remembering the first time I entered this room with Beca and Miss Adams. I know it was only a week ago, but right now, it seems like a lifetime ago.
"Matilda, what's wrong?" Beca gently asked, putting an arm around me.
I couldn't stop a few tears from escaping the corners of my eyes and running down my cheeks. "I'm just going to miss you and this school so much. It feels like I've spent my entire life here."
"Well, considering that you're only eleven days old. That is, Matilda is eleven days old and you've spent eight of those eleven day's here. I guess you could say that you've spent you're entire life here," Beca said with a smile.
After she hugged me for a few seconds she continued, "Come now Matilda, that's enough tears for this morning. Dry those eyes and get changed, Miss Baker is waiting."
"You're right Beca, I've still got today and I going to make the most of it," I said smiling back.
"That's the right attitude Matilda. Make the most of today, for tomorrow may never come at all."
"What? Where did that come from?"
"Oh, just something I heard once," Beca giggled, "Probably from an old movie or something. It sounded good at the time."
"Beca, you do know that you’re a little crazy sometimes. I still think you're very special though." With that, I gave Beca a hug, and then quickly changed and we were off to see Miss Baker.
"Good morning Miss Baker," I said as we entered the small classroom.
"Good morning Matilda, Beca, I'm pleased to see you both this morning," replied Miss Baker.
"Matilda," Beca started. "I'm going to say goodbye to you now."
"What! What are you saying," I sputtered as I spun around, grabbing Beca's arm.
"Relax sis," Beca said after taking me into her arms. "I've got something going on this afternoon that I need to get ready for. I don't think I'll be seeing you again today, so I'll say goodbye, good luck and may god bless you now and in whatever is yet to come in your life."
"But Beca you can't just up and leave like this. You're my big sister. You're supposed to escort me," I said as I pulled back so I could look into Beca's eyes.
"It's all right, I've arranged for another escort. Lizy should be here shortly and she'll help you get ready for this afternoons activities. As for being your big sister, you're progressed beyond the point of needing a big sister Matilda. I want you to know that it has been an honor and a privilege for me, helping you and being your big sister," Beca said as she pulled me close and hugged me tight. Then she placed one hand on each side of my head and kissed my forehead.
"Good luck sis," she said. Then she turned and left before I had a chance to say a word.
"But she can't just disappear like that," I thought aloud, as I started to softly cry.
I felt someone's arms around me; it was Miss Baker of course.
"It's all right Matilda," Miss Baker said as she held me. "Beca has to get ready for a graduation this afternoon. She has a lot to do in a very short amount of time.
It didn't take me long to stop crying, then I turned to look at Miss Baker.
"What do you mean, 'A Graduation'? Who's graduation?" I asked.
"Don't worry about that right now Matilda. Right now I want you to listen to what I'm about to tell you."
"I'm sorry Miss Baker," I said as I dried my eyes and taking my usual seat. "What is it you'd like me to do today?"
"Matilda for the last five day's I've been teaching you to speak with passion, feeling, and with emotion. Now I'm going to teach you something about life, people, and the people in your life.”
“You’re going to teach me, about the people in my life?” I questioned
“Matilda, people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. When you know which one it is, you will know what to do for that person.
“When someone is in your life for a REASON, it’s usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
“They may seem like a godsend and they are. They are here for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to end the relationship. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What you must realize is that your need has been met, your desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayers you sent up have been answered and now it is time to move on.
“Some people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it; it’s real, but only, for a season.
“LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons, things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life. It’s said that love is blind, but friendship is clairvoyant.
"So Matilda, don't be sad or unhappy when someone, who you’ve come to love or who has made an impact in your life, suddenly moves on. They've helped you learn what you needed from them and now they’re needed elsewhere. What you’ve learned from them will remain a part of you forever. It's now up to you to determine how to share what you've learned with others. Matilda, if you remember nothing else from me, I want you to remember this one lesson. There's no greater joy to be found in this life, than the joy we receive when we are helping others. Sometimes it may be a large monumental task and sometimes it may be as simple as smiling and saying 'hello' to someone we pass on the street."
"Thank you Miss Baker. Believe me I'll remember everyone and everything I've learned here. I’ve learned there are many people in the world that need help. I'll do my best to help everyone I can," I said with a smile.
I hadn't noticed, but while I was talking with Miss Baker, Lizy had quietly slipped in and sat down behind me.
"Words of wisdom to guide your life," Lizy said, startling me.
"Lizy, I didn't know you were there. When did you come in?" I asked.
"About halfway through Miss Baker’s ‘People in Your Life' recitation," Lizy said as she moved up to take the seat next to me. “She passes on those words of wisdom to every class she teaches, always on the last day of class.”
Both Lizy and I looked at Miss Baker. She just sat behind her desk and smiled at us.
"If you're ready to go we've got lots to do this afternoon," Lizy said
"Oh wait just a moment," Miss Baker said as she removed a small gift-wrapped package from her desk. "I have something for you Matilda."
With that, she handed me the package. Not knowing quite what to do, I sat there holding the package.
"Thank you Miss Baker," I said. "Um I don't know what to say."
"Well I do," said Lizy. "You’ve already said thank you, now open it girl.”
I looked at Miss Baker; she nodded, agreeing with what Lizy had said.
What I found after I'd removed the wrapping paper was a small book, with the image of a star embossed on the cover. The author’s name was in bold print across the bottom, Richard Paul Evans. The title of the book I’d never heard of before "The Christmas Box.” I looked up at Miss Baker, puzzled.
"Matilda, read this book frequently throughout your life. This book I refer to as a treasure. There is a valuable lesson to be learned within its pages, which took me decades to learn. I'm giving you ahead start. Enjoy your life Matilda," Miss Baker said as she dried her eyes. "It has been a please getting to know you my dear." She said as she shook my hand.
“You must have really impressed Miss Baker,” Lizy said as she led me across the grass between the buildings.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“I’ve known Miss Baker for about four years now. I’ve only known her to give that book to three other girls,” Lizy said. “If she says that book is a treasure, then you'd better believe that it's something very special.”
I didn’t know what to say, I stopped where I was. I looked at Lizy as she kept walking, and then I looked at the book in my hand. Lizy noticed she was alone and came back to where I stood.
"Lizy, what is it about me that makes everyone think I’m so special? After all, here’s a school with over a hundred students, just like me, knowing that they should be different than they are. What is it that makes me so different?"
"Matilda, have you ever asked, why does the Sun come up in the East?" Lizy asked.
"Of course not, that's just the way it is," I answered.
"You're right Matilda, that's just the way it is. So if you ask me to answer your questions 'What makes me different? What makes me special?' I'll have to give you the same answer, that's just the way it is."
That's not an answer. How can you answer a question like that, with that kind of an answer? I mean that's like saying . . .
“Stop standing here like a statue Matilda. We’ve got places to go, things to do and people to see,” Lizy said as she grabbed my arm, insisting that I start moving again.
"What are we doing back here," I asked Lizy as we entered my room.
"You've got to get changed,” Lizy said.
"But it’s not time for me to go home yet," I protested.
"Who said anything about going home? Get your shoes and socks off while I get your gown out of the closest."
"Gown, what gown?"
"Matilda, have you ever worn pantyhose before?" Lizy asked without answering my question.
"No I haven't but what does that have to do with a gown?"
"That's okay I'll teach you how to put them on," Lizy called out from within my closest.
"Lizy, what are you talking about . . ." I started to ask, but became suddenly speechless as Lizy came out of my closest.
She was carrying a beautiful, long gown. It was about the same color blue as my eyes.
"Matilda, I know you don't like undressing with other people around, but we really don't have much time, there already waiting to do your hair and makeup. So we need to hurry and get you changed."
"Who’s going to do my hair and makeup? Lizy what's going on?" I asked as I started to take off my shoes and socks.
"Matilda, are you the kind of person who reads the last chapter of a book first, to know how it ends before you read the book?"
"No, that takes all the fun out of it," I answered.
"Well then stop asking questions and just go with the flow girl."
"But . . .”
"No buts, just get your skirt and blouse off so you can into these hose and get this gown on."
A little reluctantly, I did as Lizy asked. She taught me how to put on the pantyhose, and then she helped me into the gown. It's a beautiful gown, blue satin and aqua organza, split tulip sleeves lined in aqua green. Circling its waist is a sash with rows of rainbow-colored flower petals. An absolutely stunning gown, simple but positively elegant. I was admiring the gown and looking at myself in the mirror when Lizy pulled me back to reality by putting a pair of shoes in my hand; white, with a strap around the ankle and a three-inch heels.
"Come on girl we don't have time for that right now. Get your shoes on and let's go."
Lizy led me down to the basement of the dormitory building; I didn’t even know the buildings had basements, more pieces to add to the puzzle. Lizy helped me into what looked like a golf cart; she then drove down a tunnel. Interconnecting underground tunnels, I wonder how many of these buildings they have connected with underground tunnels; there also seem to be tunnels leading in directions where there aren’t school buildings. At the other end, we went through two doors, made several turns and finally came to stop at what appeared to be a beauty salon. Whom do you think I saw as we entered?
“Mrs Reynolds, what are you doing here?” I asked as I gave her a hug.
“I teach here Matilda, classes in makeup, hair care and styling. It’s good to see you again dear, how have you been?” Mrs Reynolds asked.
“I’ve been doing just great. This is really a wonderful school; I just wish I could tell my other friends about it, they’d be so jealous,” I said.
“Hey remember now, you can’t tell anybody about this school,” Mrs Reynolds said.
“I know, I know, I just wish I could. So why am I here with you?” I asked.
“I’m going to do your hair and makeup. You don't think I'd let just anyone work on one of my girls do you? We don’t have a lot of time so let’s get started. Let’s put a smock over that gown shall we, we don’t want to mess it up now do we?”
Mrs Reynolds is a magician. In no time, she’d again transformed me into someone that you could easily mistake for a princess. My makeup was exquisite; I looked like I was sixteen. My wig had been restyled, putting most of it on top of my head with a French twist in the back and a single long twist down each side, framing my face. The hairstyle reminded me of something I’d seen before, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
A short time later I was leaving the salon, being led my Lizy and accompanied by Mrs Reynolds. We hurried through several doors and finally into an elevator. I suddenly remembered where I’d seen the hairstyle that I was now wearing; it reminded me of Eliza Doolittle from “My Fair Lady” at the embassy ball where she’s dancing with the prince. We quickly went up two floors and as the doors opened I realized I was completely lost, I had no idea where I was other than I was somewhere within one of the buildings of Immigration Manor. As we stepped out of the elevator, my heart stopped. A short distance away, I saw a very handsome young man. I mean this guy was a hunk and a half, definitely a ‘take me away with you handsome, I’m all yours' kind of guy. Wait a second; I shouldn’t be having thoughts like this, after all, I’m only ten. Oh, who cares! Who is he and is there any way I can get into his arms for a few minutes?
“Matilda, . . . Matilda," Lizy said, breaking my train of thought; I was again back in the real world. “Matilda, I’d like to introduce you to your escort for the rest of the afternoon. Matilda this is Joseph,” she said, as she turned me around. I was suddenly face to face with THE HUNK. “Joseph, this is my friend Matilda.”
“Mademoiselle Matilda, it is an ‘onor to meet you at last. I ‘ave ‘eard so much about you,” Joseph said with a French accent, as he bent from the waist to kiss the back of my hand.
I almost fainted right there, Lizy caught me as I was starting to sway.
I turned to Lizy. “He’s my escort for the rest of the afternoon?” I whispered, actually I think I squeaked.
“Yes Matilda,” Lizy chuckled. “Joseph will escort you through the graduation ceremony and to the ball afterwards.”
“Uh Lizy, can I take him home with me?” I asked with giggled, after I regained my normal voice.
Lizy and Mrs Reynolds both broke out laughing.
“No Matilda, you most definitely cannot take him home with you,” Mom said as she approached me from behind.
“Busted,” I whispered.
“Oh, hi Mom, Gee I didn’t know you were there,” I said trying to not look guilty, but only trying.
“Obviously! We’ll talk about this later young lady,” Mom said with a smile.
“Madam Covington I presume, it is an ‘onor to meet you,” Joseph said as he kissed her hand.
Mom giggled at that kind of attention from such a young man. I've never seen Dad do anything like that.
“Joseph you are such a smooth talker aren't you. Would you take Matilda back stage please? The rest of us need to get into our seats, it’s almost time to start,” Mom asked. "And Joseph, you behave yourself with my daughter."
“Of course Madame, it would be my pleasure. Mademoiselle Matilda, if you please,” Joseph said as he offered me his right elbow. I gently took his elbow with my left hand; I couldn’t help myself as I giggled.
Joseph led me through a door. We were obviously on a stage, behind all the curtains, but definitely on a stage. Ellen saw us enter and quickly came over to us, along with a man I’d never seen before.
“Oh my stars Matilda, Amanda was right you do look like a princess. Joseph, it’s a pleasure to see you again, we see you so seldom,” Ellen said.
“Madam ‘Annsen, the pleasure is mine,” Joseph replied as he kissed her hand.
“Joseph you’re filled with flattery today, aren’t you?” Ellen said. “I’ll have to talk with that evil twin sister of yours, it’s a shame that we don’t get to see more of you.”
“Madame Ellen she is not evil, just, overprotective,” Joseph replied with a chuckle.
“Matilda,” Ellen said. “I’d like to introduce you to the schools acting administrator, Gregory Peterson. He’s the one who actually approved your coming here and visiting with us. Gregory, this is Matilda Covington.”
I let go of Joseph and did my best to curtsey, as Miss Adams had taught me. “Mr Peterson, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I also want to thank you for allowing me to come to this fine school.”
“Thank you Matilda,” Mr Peterson said. “The pleasure of having you here has been ours. From what I’ve heard, it is we, that is, the school staff, have learned almost as much from you, as you have learned from us. Well now that the introductions are over, shall we get started? I’m sure everyone else is getting restless.”
“Who’s everyone else?” I asked.
“Everyone else at the school,” Mr Peterson said. “They’re all seated in the auditorium, waiting for this graduation ceremony to begin.” With that, Mr Peterson went through the curtains and disappeared.
“But who’s graduating?” I had to ask Ellen.
“Matilda, you’re graduating,” said Ellen. “This is the first time someone from outside the school has been honored this way. In addition, this is the first time anyone has completed girl 101 and 102 in only six days. Mr Peterson will go out on stage, make a little speech, then Joseph will escort you out to join him, Mr Peterson will give you . . . You know, I don’t even know what he’s going to present to you, this has never happened before. Anyway, then you’ll be allowed to speak if you want. After that, there will be a gathering in the ballroom, so the other students and faculty can meet you. There will also be music for those who care to dance.”
“Do I have to give a speech?” I asked nervously.
“No Matilda you don’t have to, just smile and say thank you to Mr Peterson,” Ellen said with a smile to reassure me. “Just hang on to Joseph if you get nervous out there, okay?”
“Thanks Ellen, this is all a bit more than I expected,” I said thankfully.
Well, that’s how my graduation ceremony went. Get that, MY graduation ceremony; I’m a ten-year-old boy that just graduated into a ten-year-old girl. Is this really happing or has the last ten days just been a wild dream? I'm almost not sure any more what is reality and what's a dream. All I know for sure is that holding onto Joseph's right arm was all that kept me on my feet as I went on stage in front of the entire school. Mr Peterson gave me another gift-wrapped package; I’ll open it later when I can think about what I’m doing. Then Joseph escorted me off stage. I think I was floating, I wasn’t even sure if my feet were actually touching the ground. We went to the ballroom and just inside the door they had set up a receiving line consisting of Ellen, Mr Peterson, Mom, Joseph and me.
I finally had a chance to open the gift Mr Peterson had given me. To my great surprise, I found another book, but not just any book. I held in my hands ‘The Complete Sherlock Holmes’ by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I immediately rushed over to Mr Peterson.
“Oh! Mr Peterson, thank you so much,” I said while holding the book tight against my chest.
“You’re quite welcome Matilda. As I told you, it was our pleasure having you here,” Mr Peterson said with a broad smile.
“He’s my favorite author, how did you know?” I asked.
Mr Peterson, still smiling said, “A little bird told me.”
My expression changed slightly from joy to puzzlement, trying to figure out what he meant by that. Mr Peterson saw my expression and chuckled.
“Someone that knows you pretty well told me that you were fond of the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,” Mr Peterson finally said.
“Thank you again,” I said graciously, as I went back to stand between Mom and Joseph.
The students and faculty had already started coming in and most of them wanted to talk to me. I didn’t know there were this many people here. It seemed like a thousand, but I know from talking with Beca and the others early in the week that there are about one hundred and fifty students. It just seemed to be a lot more. I think my right hand is going to fall off as I shook hands with every student and the rest of the faculty and staff. There was some music playing in the background, finally everyone had gone past and Joseph took that opportunity to ask me if I wanted to dance. I was a little nervous but Mom said I should go ahead and have a good time.
As we were finishing our dance, the large clock at the end of the hall struck the hour; it was 2:00pm. It seemed to me as if the clock was striking midnight and the fairy godmothers enchantment was about to come to a close, and Cinderella’s gown was about to change back into rags.
“Mademoiselle Matilda,” Joseph said. “It looks like our time together is to be cut very short. At least I can escort you back to your room so you can change.” Joseph then offered me his arm and escorted me out of the hall. The trip back to my room seemed to take hours. When we arrived at my room, Joseph entered with me and started getting my clothes out for me.
“Um Joseph,” I said shyly. “Would you please wait outside while I change?”
“My dear Matilda,” Joseph said, “You ‘ave not been shy about changing your clothes with me around since Monday morning. Why the sudden change?”
Two seconds later, I jumped on Joseph. “Beca,” I screamed. “Why you sneaky little scoundrel you, how dare you leave me like that this morning. Making me think that I never see you again, never get to properly say good bye, how could you?”
“Mademoiselle Matilda,” Joseph stammered. “Do I look anything like this Beca person of whom you speak?”
“Of course not and I don’t look like a Matthias, but your still Beca and I'm going to hug the stuffing out of you until you confess,” I squealed, hugging Joseph like there was no tomorrow.
“All right, all right, let go of me you crazy little munchkin,” Beca cried. It was indeed Beca, the French accent was gone, and it was definitely Beca’s voice.
“Munchkin, am I really as small as a munchkin?” I asked while still hugging Beca.
“Well, maybe not quite as small as a munchkin, but it sounded good at the time,” Beca giggled.
“All right, I guess that can work, Matilda the munchkin. Karen did say I needed a new nickname. She said that squirt works ok for Matt, but it just doesn’t sound right for Matilda. I think she’ll like munchkin,” I said while laughing and changing my clothes.
Joseph escorted me back to Mom’s office. It was already 2:45 so we had to hurry. I barely had time to give Beca / Joseph a proper hug goodbye, as well as say farewell to Ellen and the others who were there. Then Mom and I were off, we got home and I carefully put away my two books, before I changed back into Matt. Friday had ended and tomorrow was Mary Beth’s birthday party, and until Mom could convince Dad that I really needed to be a girl, it would be the last time I would be able to dress and be the person that in my heart I knew I was.
I couldn't help myself as I cried myself to sleep that night.
[email protected]
If you don't want to leave a comment here, you can e-mail me at [email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 8
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
The things we girls have to go through in order to look good,
Boys just don’t understand, or appreciate.
How does one introduce a Princess?
What does it mean to be a friend?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page and Joni W.
For their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 8
I do apologize for the length of this chapter, I thought of splitting it into two but it just didn’t feel right to me.
So here it is, the long awaited Birthday Party.
Today's the big day, Mary Beth's Birthday Party. The sun rose majestically from behind the Rocky Mountains bringing with it the beginning of a beautiful, new day. However, for someone that fell asleep on a wet pillow, and spent most of the night tossing and turning, a beautiful sunrise just isn't very majestic. I was desperately trying to get in a little more sleep but I could no longer ignore the need to spend a little time communing with Mother Nature. Reluctantly I crawled out of bed, removed and put away my satin nightie. Putting on some flannel pajamas, I headed for the bathroom. Then I went into the kitchen where I found Mom working on a nice Saturday morning breakfast.
"Morning Mom," I said sadly, as I sat at the table, crossing my arms on the table and resting my head on them.
"Just Morning Mom, I don't even rate a Good Morning Mom?" she asked.
"Sorry," I said, without lifting my head.
"Matt, are you feeling all right this morning," Mom asked, as she stopped what she was doing and came over to where I was sitting.
"I just didn't sleep very well last night," I said.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not here," I said softly.
"I understand dear," Mom said. She then poured me a glass of orange juice. "Drink this dear, then go back to your room and lay down. I'll come and see you as soon as I can, then we can talk."
"Thanks Mom," I said as I accepted the OJ. "I'll see you in a bit."
When I got back to my room, yeah my room, there I go thinking again. You know what; thinking is a terrible thing to do when you're already sad. How many times in the last two weeks have I thought about my room, I guess I'm going to have to change how I think about things! This would be Matt's room, a boy’s room. I'm Matilda, and my room, a girl's room, is in a wonderful place full of love and compassion called Immigration Manor. That's the only place where I've had the freedom to be who, I know in my heart I truly am. I lay down on Matt's bed and started crying again. I don't know how long I was there before there was a knock at the door.
When I didn't answer, the door slowly opened and Mom entered, coming to sit on the bed next to me.
"Matilda what's the matter dear?" Mom asked as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder.
"Oh Mom, I'm just so confused."
"What are you confused about dear?"
"Mostly, I’m confused about, me. I mean yesterday was just so wonderful, I never expected that everyone at the Manor would be so nice. Then there was that graduation ceremony — oh wow, I never expected anything like that - followed by the ball. Oh Mom, I felt like a fairly tale princess, but now the magic is over, now when will I get to be the person that, I know in my heart, I'm supposed to be?"
"Well, how about today. After all, today is Mary Beth's party," Mom said.
"Oh Mom, I know that, I know that today is supposed to be a special day, after all it's not just Mary Beth's birthday party, but also MY coming out party. I'm sad because, I don't know when, after today; I'll once again, be able to be myself. I'm also nervous because this is the first time that I will be out in public, socializing with people who don’t know me. Just how are they going to react to me? How will they treat me?
"Well dear, I'll be surprised if they treat you any different than they do each other."
"Are you sure that nobody will recognize me?"
"Matilda, I'm sure, with your wig styled by Amanda and with the right makeup, there won't be any sign of a timid little boy," Mom assured me. "What else is troubling you Matilda?"
"The other problem is, that we've been so busy, we never had time to get me a dress to wear to the party," I moaned.
"I know that things have been a little crazy, and we haven't had the time to go shopping as I would have liked. Matilda, I know how important today is to you, but you've only been a girl for two weeks. I’m not sure that I’m ready to hear you start complaining 'Mom I just don't have anything to wear.' I'm not sure I'm ready to hear that from someone that's only two weeks old." Mom couldn’t keep from laughing as she said that.
I sat up and looked at Mom. I just had to laugh along with her.
"You're right Mom, that is a strange thing for someone that's only two weeks old to say. Thanks for helping me see the brighter side of life, again," I said as I hugged my Mother. "That still leaves one question, but I can't ask it," I said with a grin while giggling.
"What are you going to wear to Mary Beth's birthday party?" Mom asked. We were both started laughing again.
"You said it Mom, I didn't."
After we’d stopped laughing, Mom continued.
"Well, if your not to proud to wear something that someone else has worn before, I just happen to have a dress, hanging in my closest, that I think you might like," mom said.
"I may have a few problems Mom, but pride isn't one of them. Whatever dress you have, I'm sure it will be fine; beside I don't seem to have many options right now. So what's this dress look like? Some of the styles from a hundred years ago were cute, something left over from when you were a young girl?" I asked, while teasing Mom, and giggling.
"Oh, I think you'll like the dress, although it's not a hundred years old. It was recently worn by a young princess, about your size, to a dance and a graduation. It’s made of light blue satin; it has split tulip sleeves. Circling its waist is a sash with rows of rainbow-colored flower petals,” Mom said, giggling and with a smile that went from ear to ear.
"Mom, are you telling me that they let us borrow the dress that I wore yesterday," I asked excitedly, almost afraid of the answer to my question.
"Of course not, you know how security is at the Manor; nothing from there can leave the grounds. I just convinced them to let you to wear the dress that I’d bought for you, as a party dress, for your graduation dress, as well."
I threw my arms around Mom, hugging her tightly as I screeched with joy. "Oh Mom, thank you, thank you, it is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. I was speechless when Lizy brought it out of the closest. When did you have the time to go shopping?"
"I didn't have time to go shopping. I used the school’s computers and let my fingers do the shopping. The schools computer system is really excellent," Mom said with a smile.
"That's what everyone kept telling me, but I couldn't get anywhere near one of their computers," I grumbled.
"I know dear. Ellen had given strict orders that you were not to touch any computers. Before we even contacted Ellen, she’d completed her research on you, and the family. She knew that if you were left alone with one of their computers, there was a sixty percent chance that you'd breach the primary security system in twenty minutes or less. Before Mr. Peterson granted permission for you to be there, Ellen had to assure him that you'd never have that opportunity."
"Wait a second Mom. You said Ellen had done research on me and the family before you called her?"
"Yes dear, she has a file on you that's almost two inches thick. Ellen knows everything about you, your school performance, as well as all the notes, from all your teachers."
"But how could she, I mean why would she?" I asked. "Mom why would Ellen go to that much work to research, ME? How would Ellen have even known about me before . . . It was Jill! Wasn't it? Jill told Ellen about me, sometime during the summer. That's the only way that Ellen would have known that a, too smart for his own good little boy, named Matt, even existed. Let alone a too smart little boy, who recently figured out that he really should have been a girl."
"Sherlock Holmes strikes again," Mom chuckled.
"That explains who, but not why. That also explains why Beca never left me alone to change my clothes. It wasn't to make sure I was tucked properly, it was so I wouldn't be left alone with the computer in Matilda's room."
"What do you mean Matilda's room?" asked Mom. She seamed a little puzzled by the third person reference I’d used.
"Well, think about it for a second Mom. Take a good look around this room, whose room is it, whose posters are on the walls? Whose stuff is on the desk? Whose clothes are in the closest? This is definitely Matt's room, Mom! Matilda's room, the only place that Matilda has ever been able to call home, is about forty minutes away, in a secluded mountain valley, surrounded by some of the tightest security I've ever seen or heard of."
"I see your point dear, and this time it's not on top of your little pointed head," Mom chuckled while patting my head. "We'll have to see what we can do about making this room Matilda's, at least until we can arrange for you to go to school at the Manor."
"Thanks Mom, I just hope it's soon. I don't know how long I can wear these yucky boys’ clothes, before I start to feel yucky again."
"Well we wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?" Mom giggled. "In the mean time let’s get you ready for a party. I tell you what dear, your dad's already left for work and Chuck headed out shortly thereafter. He was complaining about being in a house full of girls again. Anyway, why don't you get your best underwear and go into my bathroom, have yourself a nice bubble bath and relax. When you're done, slip on your gown, I'll help you with your wig and makeup. We'll see if between the two of us we can't do as well as Amanda, and make you look like the princess that you are."
"Thanks Mom, but wouldn't it be better if I used the kid’s bathroom?"
"Well its closer, but you might be a little embarrassed undressing in there; I know that Rachael will probably scream if you invade her bath."
"You have a good point, Mom. I think I'll use your bathroom."
"Good choice sweetheart. I'll leave your gown on my bed while you're in the tub. You just call out when you're ready for some help with your makeup."
"Thanks Mom, you're the greatest," I said while giving her another hug.
You know, I could get used to soaking in a tubful of sweet smelling bubble, this is almost better than sleeping in a satin nightie. There's only two drawbacks, one: the water doesn't stay hot long enough and two: when my body relaxes, my mind goes into overdrive.
Now why would Jill tell Ellen about me, months before I'd been invited to Mary Beth's party? Long before I'd even made the decision to begin my transition into Matilda. Why would Ellen be so interested in someone like me, do that much research, on me? Is there something about me that I haven't realized yet? Ellen said 'they've been doing this for a long time'. Who are they, and what exactly have they been doing for a long time? It's going to take a lot more time and information than I have now, to figure out who 'They' are.
I guess I should start by trying to figure out ‘why they would be doing this’? Let’s see, now why would someone go to the time and expenses of setting up a school just to help children with Gender Dysphoria? Is there something special about kids like me? I know that I'm good with mysteries and computers, I wonder if everyone, like me, has some special, or unique skills, or talents. Maybe part of it is their ability to look like someone other than themselves. After all, when I first saw Joseph I had no clue that he was really Beca. The only way I found out was by what she said. The same with Jonathan and Nicky, it was only because of what they said that I figured out who they were. Maybe that's what Mr. Peterson meant when he said, they learned as much from me as I did from them; I was able to pickup on their mistakes, thereby helping them. I'm sure that appearing as someone, other than who you really are, could come in handy from time to time; I’m just not sure, when that would be. It still puzzles me that there could be an unheard of school that takes field trips, always to other countries, as well as having a world-renowned choir that nobody in the US has ever heard of.
What kind of a security breach could have forced the relocation of the school from somewhere in Ohio to here? Now there's a question worth spending extra time on. Beca said that there was a breach of security; it must have been something extremely big, something that would have exposed not only the school itself but also the students to possible harm. The next question would be who would want to expose the school, not one of the staff; they all really care about the students, could it have been one of the students? I don’t know there are just too many questions and not enough information.
There was something else though, something that Kate said, what was it? Oh yes something about the field trips and study partners appearing to be the same gender. Now why would that be important enough for Beca to cut her off like she . . . ah ha, the hotels. Hotels wouldn't let schoolchildren of difficult genders stay in the same room; that has to be it. If you were traveling as a family, they wouldn't care, because the parents would be there, but for a school they would separate them by gender. Therefore, if study partners appear to be the same gender, they could stay in the same room. I’m not sure why that would be so important, unless . . . they’ve become more that just study partners. Hmm I wonder.
Darn I'm freezing, when did this water get so cold? Oh well, a quick shower to rinse off and warm up, then I’d better get dressed.
Mom was as good as her word, the dress and pantyhose were on her bed. I tucked, put on my blue underwear that's covered with lace, the pantyhose and then sat there admiring that beautiful dress. I gentle caressed the fabric, taking in every detail, every stitch. Finally, I slipped the dress over my head. I let it gently float down until I was completely incased in this simple, yet elegant, gracefully flowing gown and petticoats, all satin and lace. As I was admiring the beautiful gown, and how I looked in it, the bedroom door opened just a crack.
"Matilda dear, are you decent?" Mom asked.
"Yes Mom, you can come in. I was just looking at myself in your full length mirror," I said shyly.
"Don't tell me we've created a prima donna," Mom teased.
"A what?" I asked.
"A prima donna, roughly translated it means someone that's in love with themselves, and thinks that everyone else is there just to serve them," Mom giggled.
"Oh Mom, you're teasing me again," I pouted.
"Yes dear, I am. Come on; let's get your makeup done. Rachael's ready to go, except for the makeup I promised she could wear. Matilda, I was just thinking, how would you like to do your sisters makeup?"
"Mom; do you really think I'm good enough to do Rachael's makeup?" I asked nervously.
"Easy dear, I'll be here to help. I just thought you'd enjoy the experience of helping your sister. You've been doing very well with your makeup these last few days."
“Thanks Mom, you have been so helpful and understanding. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” I said. “I would be honored to help Rachael with her makeup.”
By about 9:15 we were all ready to go. The party didn't start until 10:00, but for some reason Mom seemed to be in a hurry.
“Come on girls, let’s get going. Out to the car with you,” Mom said as she shooed us out the door.
“Mom, why are we taking the car? They’re just down the street and around the corner,” protested Rachael.
“I know dear, but we’re running a little late. Jean wanted us there early, remember I’m there to help keep you girl’s in-line,” Mom said with a giggle.
I guess she didn’t want too many of the neighbors asking questions later, like ‘Edith, who was that princess we saw you with the other day?’ I had to giggle at that thought.
Well, we zipped around the corner to Mary Beth’s house. It’s a nice two-story house with a full basement. It's bigger than ours is and with more bedrooms, but then it needs to be, because they have eight children, compared to just the four in my family. As we walked up to the front porch, the door opened before we had a chance to knock. We entered and the door closed. I turned, and knew the reason why. There was Mary Beth, and she was beautiful. She’d obviously taken my advice and had gotten a new gown for the party. She looked like a Southern Bell. She was wearing a beautiful cream-colored gown, with three tiers of ruffles cascading from her waist to her ankles. It had, short sleeves, but was off the shoulder there was a satin bow on neckline, just below her chin, as well as a large bow in the middle of her back. It was positively elegant, I was almost jealous, but only almost.
“Oh Mary Beth, you look beautiful,” I said.
“Oh Matilda my dear, do you really think so?” she replied while staring off into space.
“Boy, do I feel under dressed,” complained Rachael. She was wearing her pink party dress, the same dress that Mom caught me wearing six months ago. Gee whiz! Has it really only been six months? It seems as if it’s been a lot longer.
Mary Beth finally looked down from the heavens at Rachael and me.
“Well Matilda I may look beautiful, but I think I just lost the competition. You are certainly going to be the most beautiful girl at this party," Mary Beth said after she looked at me.
"Oh Mary Beth don't be silly, this isn't a competition. We're just friends having a good time," I said.
"Well after our talk a week ago and how Rachael went on and on," Mary Beth explained. "I thought it would be fun to have a dress-up party, so I called all the other girls and told them that this was to be a fancy dress party. Most of them were excited, there are a few who are quickly turning into tomboys and don’t care about dresses. They did say they would wear a dress, but only for me.”
"That sounds great Mary Beth, who's going to judge?" Rachael asked.
"I vote for the munchkin." A well-known voice from behind us said.
"BECA!” I screamed as I spun around.
"Munchkin?" Both Rachael and Mary Beth questioned.
I didn't hear them as I rushed to hug Beca.
"Take it easy Munchkin, you saw me yesterday," Beca said, trying to fend off my attack.
"But I never expected to see you again. What are you doing here?" I squealed.
"What about me? You're not excited to see me as well? I don't get a hug?" said Lizy, as she came around the corner.
"Lizy; you're here too?" I said as I hugged her. "What are you two doing here?"
"Well your Mom told Ellen that there was this fabulous party going on . . ." started Beca.
"Yes, she said that a princess was going to be there that would need some special attention," Lizy added with a giggle.
"Just to make sure she remembers to keep her mouth shut," Beca whispered in my ear.
Beca laughed when she saw me pouting, because of what she'd said.
"Easy there munchkin, I'm only teasing," Beca said while laughing.
“All right Matilda, who are these girl's and what's with this Munchkin thing?" Mary Beth demanded.
"I'm sorry Mary Beth; these are some friends of mine. I'd like you to meet Beca and Lizy, actually that’s Rebecca and Elizabeth, girls this is my best friend, Mary Beth," I said as I put my arm around Mary Beth's waist, being that I'm too short to put my arm around her shoulders. "Well, now we all know who everyone is, it still doesn't answer the question. Why are you two here?" I asked.
"Like I said, your Mom said there was a party going on and she talked Ellen into letting us come and help out," Beca explained.
"Okay so you're here to help out with my party, but where did Munchkin come from?" Mary Beth demanded.
"Oh, I guess I'm responsible for christening her Munchkin," Beca started to explain. "Yesterday as Matilda was saying goodbye she was trying to . . . what was that line you used? Oh yes I remember, 'Hug the Stuffing out of me.' Anyway, I said something like 'Settle down munchkin.' I hadn't thought about it in advance, it just popped into my head. We both ended up laughing and decided that was a great nickname for her."
"Well I like it; it works for her," said Mary Beth, "Munchkin it is."
"All right, all right," I consented, knowing that there would be no use in protesting. "You can call me Munchkin, but if anyone calls me Munchkin in public I'll sick the 'Wicked Witch of the West' on you," I said with a grin.
Beca looked at Lizy and winked, Lizy nodded back.
"Okay, okay. Let's go find your mother's and see what they want us to do," Beca said. She then smiled and said, "All right girls everyone hold hands."
We all looked at each other wondering what was going on.
"Come on girls, hold hands," Lizy said.
Not knowing what these two were up to, but knowing that they liked to tease and have fun, I figured we should play along. I took Mary Beth's left hand with my right, then Beca's right hand with my left. Then Mary Beth took Rachael's hand and Rachael took Lizy's.
Beca and Lizy smiled and said together, "All together now. Ohhhh weeerrrre off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of oz . . ."
By that point Mary Beth, Rachael and I had joined in, giggling but singing along. We found Mom and Mrs. Phelps in the kitchen; they didn't know what to make of the five of us. Of course, they wanted to know what prompted such a lively display of merriment and song. It took just as long to tell the story the second time, but by the time we were finished all present agreed that Munchkin was the perfect nickname for me. After all the munchkins weren’t just small, they were intelligent as well as mature.
"Rebecca, Elizabeth," Mrs. Phelps said, "I want to thank the two of you, for volunteering to come and help us today. With everything that's planned, things would probably have been a bit crazy around here without you two helping out."
"You are very welcome, Mrs. Phelps," said Lizy.
"Please, call us Beca and Liz or Lizy," Beca added. "We're just not that formal when we're among friends."
"So Jean, what do you have planned and how can we help?" Mom asked.
"Well this should be a full day for us all. There will be ten girls’ running around, and from what Mary Beth tells me, they should all be dressed in their finest. As far as activities goes, I've planned two different activities that will be running at the same time. First will be a ping-pong tournament, we have a table set up in the basement. Two girls at a time are involved with that, while that's going, the other girls will be involved in a treasure hunt. Everything will run in five minute intervals."
The doorbell rang, indicating that more guests had arrived.
"Mary Beth, would you get that please?” Mrs. Phelps asked. Mary Beth and Rachael ran off to see who had arrived. "I guess we'll go over the details after all the girls are here, but let's decide now who will be running the ping-pong tournament and who will be running the treasure hunt. Anyone volunteer for running the ping-pong tournament?"
"I'll run the ping-pong tournament," volunteered Lizy, "It sounds like fun."
"Great, I've printed a chart that will help keep things organized," said Mrs. Phelps. "Beca would you like to run the treasure hunt?"
"Sure thing Mrs. Phelps that sounds like lots of fun as well," replied Beca.
"Terrific," Mrs. Phelps said, “I've already hidden the items around the house and backyard. Here a stack of envelopes, each envelope is labeled 'Team 1 - 1, Team 1 - 2' and so on, that's team one - round one; team one — round two and so on. Each envelope has a slip of paper with the item to search for during that round. Well, from the chatter coming from the living room, it sounds like most of the other girls are here. Shall we go in and introduced everyone around."
Everyone headed to the living room, except me. I hung back, being just a little afraid of how I might be treated. Beca noticed and came to where I was standing.
"What's the matter Munchkin?"
"Hey, not in public, remember?" I said nervously.
"What public, there's no one here except you and I. Now what's the matter, why aren't you in with the other girls?"
"Well, that's just it, other girls. How are they going to treat me?"
"Matilda did you or did you not graduate yesterday?"
"Well yes, but that was just something for the Manor," I whispered.
"Matilda, that graduation wasn't for the Manor; that graduation was to graduate you, into a better life. That ceremony is something we do for everyone that makes a transition. It means that you pass, you're passable in every respect, and nobody will be able to tell that you're not a girl. The problem you're having now, is that you still lack a little confidence around others, right?"
I nodded.
"Now you know why Lizy and I are here. A new girl's first time in public is always a little scary. We're here for moral support and so you will have someone to go to if things get to be more than you can handle. So come on little sister, put a smile on your face and let’s go introduce everyone, to a princess."
"But how will I be introduced?" I asked. "Everyone knows Rachael, and they know that she only has one sister, I'm certainly not Karen."
"Leave that to me Munchkin," Beca said as she stood up, smiled and offered me her hand.
I couldn't help myself; Beca's loving smile was contagious. I took Beca's hand and we went in with the others.
There was a hush as Beca and I entered the living room; I even heard several girls’ gasp.
"Well there you are," said Mrs. Phelps. "I thought you two had gotten lost. We were just going over the rules for our ping-pong tournament. Girls, I'd like to introduce everyone to our other helper for today. This is Beca; she'll be running the treasure hunt for us."
"Hello girls it's a pleasure to be here today, I'm sure I'll get to know each of you during the day. However, at this time I have the honor to introduce you to someone that is very special, my little sister," Beca said with a smile while looking down at me, giving my hand a little squeeze. Then using Joseph's French accent, Beca said, "I present to you, Mademoiselle Matilda. She 'as recently joined us 'ere, ‘owever she is a little shy. I ‘ope you will all ‘elp ‘er to feel like she is welcome ‘ere, and 'elp her to feel that she is, among friends."
When Mom heard the accent she finally put two and two together, the expression on her face made me giggle. She looked at me and mouthed 'Joseph?' I giggled as I nodded slightly.
Everyone said Hello, Hi, or some other greeting. Mary Beth got up and came over to me, giving me a wonderful hello hug.
"I was wondering how I was going to introduce you to everyone," she whispered. "They really are very good friends."
As I hugged her back and whispered, "You have no idea."
I looked up at Beca and said, “Thank you sis.”
"Go have fun Matilda," Beca said.
"Come, sit by me," Mary Beth said as she took my hand and led me across the room to sit on a large couch.
After Mary Beth and I were seated, Mrs. Phelps continued.
"As I was saying, with there being ten girls we will have five teams. For the first round of our ping-pong tournament, the members of the five teams will play each other. Let's start by dividing into teams. I'll call a name and that girl will pick her teammate. Well start with Mary Beth, after all this is her party."
"Gee whiz Mom that's not fair, we’re all friends," Mary Beth said.
"Well if you'd rather, we could put all of your names in a bowel and pick teams that way. I just thought this would be faster and maybe more fun," Mrs. Phelps said.
"Oh, go on Mary Beth," several of the girls said. "Pick one."
"But you're all my friends. Umm, I know, to help her feel welcome here," said Mary Beth, with a smile, while looking at me. "I'll pick Matilda as my team mate."
The girls applauded, showing their approval of her choice.
I smiled, looked at Mary Beth and said, "Thank you Mary Beth, I accept."
"Very good," Mrs. Phelps said as she wrote the names down. "Team one is Mary Beth and Matilda."
"Hey it’s M and M’s," someone shouted. Everyone giggled at that.
"Okay now, team two. Kimmie, you go next please," Mrs. Phelps asked.
Kimmie looked around for a few seconds, and then said, "Rachael."
"Very good, Kimmie and Rachael," Mrs. Phelps said. "Next, team three, Molly, would you select a team mate."
"Umm, Julie," Molly announced.
"Okay, team three is Molly and Julie. Now for team four, Sara, you go next please; there are three to pick from."
"I think, oh, Penny," Sara said.
"Very well team four will be Sara and Penny. That means that team five will be Jennifer and Paula. Now is everyone happy with their teammates?” Mrs. Phelps asked.
Everyone nodded or commented in the affirmative.
"Great," Mrs. Phelps continued. "Next let's discuss the treasure hunt. This will take place at the same time as the ping-pong, that is while team one is playing ping-pong the other four teams will have five minutes to find their items. As each team finds the item they're looking for they need to bring it to the dinning room and put it in their basket."
"What basket Mom?" asked Mary Beth.
"Oh, didn't we pick baskets? I'm sorry. On the dinning room table are five baskets, each one has a colored ribbon and bow to identity it, of course one for each team. The colors are red, blue, green, yellow and pink. I'll start with team five this time, Jennifer, Paula, which color would you girls like?"
They talked together for a few seconds, and then said together, "Yellow."
"Okay, team five, the yellow basket," Mrs. Phelps said aloud as she wrote it down.
The selection of the baskets went about the same for the other teams. Team four picked the red basket. Team three the blue basket. Team two picked the pink basket. That left the green basket for Mary Beth and me.
“All right," Mrs. Phelps continued, "Now where were we? Oh, yes, after you find the item you're looking for bring to the dinning room and put it in your basket. The fun thing that I came up with is that no two teams will be looking for the same item. Now then, does any one have any questions?"
We all looked at each other, then at Mrs. Phelps, wondering what she meant. I guess the looks on our faces told her that we were confused.
"All right, I'll make it easy," said Mrs. Phelps with a smile. "Team one will go downstairs with Lizy. Beca please give out the first envelopes to teams two - five, girls please don't open them yet. We will play some music over the intercom, when you hear music that will be everyone’s signal to start. Five minutes later, you'll hear music again, that's the signal to stop. Then everyone will meet back here and I tell you all what to do next."
Mary Beth, Lizy and I headed downstairs.
"So Matilda," said Lizy. "This is the famous Mary Beth that you've been telling everyone about."
"What do you mean famous?" asked Mary Beth.
"Just what do you mean, telling everyone?" I asked.
Lizy started laughing at both of us. "Isn't this the Mary Beth whose shoulder you cried on, a week ago? She has the green eyes you described, as well as the strong arms, to hold you tight and comfort you."
"Matilda," Mary Beth questioned. "Just who have you been talking to about me, and about last Saturday? I thought last Saturday was a secret and we weren't supposed to talk about it."
"The only people that I talked to, about last Saturday were Ellen and my big sister," I answered. Several of the things that I'd been thinking about this morning suddenly came together. "Lizy, you and Beca are study partners, aren't you?" I suddenly said.
"Always the detective, aren't you Matilda?" Lizy said while giggling.
"Lizy," I whispered, "Is there more to your relationship with Beca than just being study partners?"
"Matilda, just what are you asking?" inquired Lizy.
"Well I'm not sure how to put it, but it seems to me that they match students together for more than just, umm, academic reasons," I added.
"Are you asking if we're emotionally or romantically involved?" Lizy whispered.
"Well, being that you're fifteen and I'm only ten, I guess we're not really having this conversation, but yes, that's what I’m asking."
"I can't answer that question Matilda. However, judging from your question, you've been adding a lot of pieces to your puzzle. So Matilda, have you figured out the answer to your big question yet?"
"Not yet, I just don't have enough of the pieces. Lizy, were you at the Ohio, facility?"
"Yes, why?"
"Beca wasn't, she joined after the move, right?"
"Yes, that's right, why do you ask?"
"Just adding some more pieces to my puzzle. I guess it's time to stop playing with puzzles and start playing some ping-pong," I said reluctantly.
"You're right; we better get some ping-pong in before the time is up."
Mary Beth was looking at us during our exchange, the look on her face left no doubt as to her confusion.
"Mary Beth, the Beca that's upstairs helping with the treasure hunt, she is the Beca I told you about last Saturday, the one that taught me to walk like a girl with a book on my head. She and Lizy are, umm, very good friends. More than that, I’m afraid I can't tell you."
"Some day girl, you're going to tell me everything that's been going on," said a pouting Mary Beth.
I quickly hugged my friend. "Some day Mary Beth, some day, but today I need you, to teach me, to play ping-pong."
"You've never played ping-pong?" asked Mary Beth.
"Nope, never," I replied.
"Matilda, why don't we just say that I won," Mary Beth giggled.
"What, give up without a fight? You must be joking!" I said, obviously a bit upset that Mary Beth had even suggested such a thing. "Look at me Mary Beth; go on take a good look. Trust me Mary Beth; you have no idea what I been through just so I could be here today. If you think that I would even consider giving up without a fight, then you just don't know Matilda very well. Let's play!"
"I'm sorry Matilda, all right a crash course in ping-pong," Mary Beth said with a smile and a little hug.
Mary Beth gave me a quick lesson in ping-pong them we played for about two - three minutes before the music came on over the intercom. Mary Beth did beat me, but it wasn’t because I didn’t try my best and she did have to work at it.
Lizy put an arm around me as we went back upstairs, she hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Way to go sis. You handled yourself very well, I'm proud of you, and I know that Beca will be when I tell her about it."
"Thanks Lizy," I whispered back. "Are you going to tell her about our conversation as well?"
"Of course, there are no secrets between study partners."
"Well, I guess I'll be in trouble again."
"What for?” Lizy asked.
"Mostly for not keeping my mouth shut," I said, which caused both Lizy and I giggle.
Lizy just gave me a gentle swat on my bottom to push me forwards, also letting me know that I probably wasn’t going to be in trouble.
We all met in the living room as planned. Team two went down for there turn at ping-pong, and Beca gave us an envelope with 'Team 1 - 1' on it. As soon as the music started, Mary Beth tore the envelope open. Inside was a slip of paper with Ceramic Chicken printed on it!
"So that's what those were," said Mary Beth.
"That's what, what were?" I questioned.
"Several days ago Mom brought home a box of small ceramic knickknacks. When I asked what they were for, she just said never mind."
“Well come on Mary Beth, less talk and more action, after all the clocks ticking. Where did your Mom hide them?” I asked.
"Just hold on a second," said Mary Beth, "Let me think. She brought them home, and then she wondered all over the house and throughout the backyard. Now where would you look for a chicken?"
"In the backyard," I answered.
"Right!" she said, as she grabbed my hand and started upstairs.
"So why are we going upstairs if you would find a chicken in the backyard?" I asked, as Mary Beth dragged me along.
"Exactly, the backyard is where you would expect to find a chicken, that's why it won't be there. We should look in Martha's room."
"Why in Martha's room?" I ask.
"Because, Martha hates chicken."
We stopped in front of a door that I assured to be Martha's bedroom, one of Mary Beth's older sisters, and Mary Beth knocked.
"I thought your Mom said we had the house to ourselves and that no one else was home?" I asked.
"Just checking," Mary Beth said as she opened the door. As we went into Martha’s room, she cautioned me, "Don't touch anything in here. Martha is very fussy about her room. If the chickens are here they'll be easy to find."
Sure enough, we found two ceramic chickens, about three inches tall, sitting on Martha's makeup table. We took one and headed for the dinning room to put our first prize in our basket. Then we went into the kitchen. Both our Mother's were there. Mom was stirring some punch, and Mrs. Phelps was adding some decorative icing to what had to be the birthday cake.
"That's pretty sneaky Mom," Mary Beth said.
"What are you talking about dear?” Mrs. Phelps asked.
"Putting the ceramic chickens, in Martha's room, that’s pretty sneaky if you ask me. I doubt anyone else will think of looking there," Mary Beth told her Mother, while sampling the icing in the bowl.
"Well after all dear, it is a treasure HUNT," replied Mrs. Phelps, slapping at Mary Beth's hand. "Don't tell anyone where you found the chicken. That would remove the challenge."
"No problem Mom, I’m getting good at keeping secrets," Mary Beth said, while poking me in the side.
Just then Beca came in, "Times up," she said. She then turned a knob on what I assumed to be the intercom, master control panel. Music could then be heard throughout the house.
"What are you two doing in here?" asked Beca, addressing Mary Beth and I. "Shouldn't you be hunting for a treasure?"
"We found what we needed for this round," explained Mary Beth.
"So we're just waiting for the next round to start," I added.
"Well, let's get moving," said Beca, with a grin, while shooing us along. Mrs. Phelps chuckled as she followed behind.
"Well now, this is round three," said Mrs. Phelps, after everyone was back together and quiet. "We need team three down at the ping-pong table, teams one and two need their number two envelope, teams four and five will be on their number three envelope."
Beca quickly handed out the envelopes as team three went downstairs. As soon as the music started, four envelopes were torn open. It took a few seconds before the teams scattered to hunt for their next item.
Mary Beth and I just looked at each other. "Mary Beth, where are we going to find that?" I asked.
"I'm not sure on this one," replied Mary Beth, with an expression that said - help, I'm lost.
"I think we can assume that it's like the chicken, a small knickknack," I said.
"I certainly hope so. I don't think Mom could have hidden something that size anywhere around the house, or in the backyard," agreed Mary Beth.
"Maybe we should split up for this one Mary Beth. You search in the house and I’ll have a go at the backyard," I suggested.
"Okay, that sounds better than any of the ideas I'm coming up with. If you find it head straight for the basket, we'd better hurry," agreed Mary Beth.
We split up; I headed through the kitchen and out the back door. I took a quick look across the grass, not seeing anything out of the ordinary; I decided to concentrate on the various bushes and plants that adorned the perimeter fence line. Several of the other girls were also chasing back and forth, around the yard. In the far back corner of the yard, in the middle of Mrs. Phelps’s Rose garden, I found the object of my quest. A small herd had gathered under one large rose bush. I carefully approached my prey, not wanting to scare them off or snag my dress on the other roses. After I'd managed to capture an average specimen, I carefully worked my way out of the dangerous roses. Once I was clear of the roses, I hurried back to the house; you know it's hard to run across the grass when you're wearing three-inch heels. As I entered the back door, I heard the music that indicated the end of that round. I stopped in the dinning room and placed my prize in our basket. I was confident that my prize wouldn't be able to escape. Smiling I went to join with others.
Mary Beth saw my smile and asked, "Matilda, did you find it?"
"Indeed I did Mary Beth, indeed I did. It was a challenging safari; I had to brave steaming deserts, the sandbox around the swing set; maneuver around cascading waterfalls; the lawn sprinkler, slowly foraging my way through uncharted wastelands, the tall uncut grass; but after a relentless journey I managed to capture our quarry without loss of life, or damage to my gown," I replied. Both Mary Beth and I were laughing at the exaggerated tale, as I explained how I'd captured, a Ceramic Elephant.
Team four went downstairs as the rest of us were handed our next envelope.
As Mary Beth opened the envelope, she smiled. "I know where to find one of those," she said, grabbing my hand and heading downstairs.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"My Dad's office, he has a fish tank in there that should have what we need. It may not be what Mom intended, but it should be okay."
"Is that it?" I asked, as we were standing in front of a large aquarium.
"That's it, a Chinese Dragon," answered Mary Beth.
"Just how are we going to get it out of the tank?"
"Have you ever gone fishing?" asked Mary Beth.
"What do you mean?"
"Are you afraid of getting your arm wet?"
"You want me to reach into the tank and pull it out?"
"Well, the sleeves on your dress are shorter than mine."
"Well, as Matt, I'd have no problem reaching in after it. However, as Matilda, that water is gross and yucky and it will ruin my dress as it drips off my arm."
"Oh come on Matilda, it's just a little water."
"It’s still going to ruin my dress."
"I guess there are two options. One: you could take off your dress so it . . ."
"Hold it right there Mary Beth. There's only one person that I'll willingly undress in front of, and you're not either one of them. What's the second option?"
"Well, I could get a towel, to dry your arm as you pull it out of the tank, and then the dragon once it's out. Wait a second Matilda, what did you mean just now, when you said, there's only one person that you'll undress in front of and I'm not either of them? How can one person be referred to as them?"
"Never mind Mary Beth."
"But Matilda . . ."
"Go get the towel Mary Beth."
"Oh, all right." Mary Beth grumbled as she left.
While she was gone, I moved a footstool over next to the tank. When Mary Beth returned, we both got on the footstool. I reached in after the dragon while Mary Beth wrapped the towel around my arm. As I pulled my arm out, Mary Beth kept it dry with the towel. We heard the music that indicated the end of that round, and quickly went upstairs with our prize, ready for the next round.
The next round started and I opened the envelope to discover what our next challenge would be.
"We've been doing pretty well so far Mary Beth, where do you think we should look for this?"
"Well now, let me think for a second."
"I've got it; we go to the storage room in the basement," and off we went, back downstairs.
"Why in the storage room?"
"Because that's where the Christmas chests are."
"Why do we want the Christmas chests?" I asked, as Mary Beth opened the door into what I assumed to be the storage room.
"Because that's where the Christmas decorations and the Nativity Scene figures are kept."
"Mary Beth, just how many of these chests do we have to look through to find the Nativity Scene?" I asked, as I stared at over a dozen chest's and trunks.
"We only need to look in the six chests that are just to the left of the door."
"Mary Beth, you're telling me we have to look through six chests in less than four minutes."
"No, we only have to open at the most six chests. The one we want has the Christmas stockings on top. The Nativity Scene figures are wrapped in tissue paper just underneath the stockings," Mary Beth said, as she opened the first chest, which was on top of the stack.
"You're sure about that?" I asked.
"Very sure, I packed that chest last January. Not this one, Matilda, help me lift it down so we can get to the next one."
The third chest we opened had the decorative Christmas stockings on top, just as Mary Beth had described them. We each un-wrapped about eight of the Nativity figures before I found what appeared to be what we were looking for.
"Is this it Mary Beth?"
"That's it, let's go. I’ll put all the rest of this away later."
We rushed back upstairs. Gently Mary Beth placed the donkey in the basket with our other treasures. We were four for four; I guess you could say that Mary Beth and I had a home court advantage. I felt really, good about how well Mary Beth and I had been doing. I then looked at the other baskets; some had two items some had three. I noticed that Kimmie and Rachael weren't doing so well, as they only had one item in their basket, suddenly' I didn't feel so good. I whispered in Mary Beth's ear, she nodded in agreement. Just then, we heard the music indicating the end of that round.
Once everyone had returned to the Living room, Mrs. Phelps asked how everyone was doing and if all the girls were having fun. There was a variety of responses.
"Girls, we thought everyone would be having fun with these activities?” Mrs. Phelps said, questioningly.
"I think we're all having fun, it's just that the treasure hunt is a little harder that we expected." said Kimmie. Most of the other girl's nodded in agreement.
"I'm sorry girls; I guess I got a little carried away when I was hiding them. I tell you what, for the rest of the hunt we'll go to ten minute rounds and if you’re having trouble come to me and I'll give you clues as to where to look."
"How did you all feel about the ping-pong?” asked Mrs. Phelps.
Everyone agreed that the ping-pong was fun.
"That’s great! I’m glad to know that something we planned, is working out as we’d hoped. For the semifinals of the ping-pong tournament, the winners from each team will play each other for points. Each girl will play two games with a different opponent for each game. Then after five games, the two girls with the most points will play each other for the finals. So let's have teams one and two downstairs, teams three, four and five will continue with the treasure hunt."
The five of us went downstairs, Mary Beth and me, Kimmie and Rachael, along with Lizy.
"Welcome back girls," Lizy said cheerfully. "Let's see now, who do we have playing. The winner from team one was Mary Beth, and from team two the winner was Kimmie. Ladies if you'll please take your places.
As Mary Beth and Kimmie played, I had a chance to talk with Rachael.
"Hey Matilda, how are you feeling?" Rachael asked, while we watched Mary Beth and Kimmie playing ping-pong. "Mom told me you were kind of sad this morning."
"Well I was upset, thinking about yesterday and that I wouldn't see my friends again. Right now, everything is perfect. I mean everyone here has accepted me as Matilda. No one even questioned weather I'm a girl or not."
"Of course not silly, why would they? Everything about you says girl, well princess actually. Matilda, have you thought about what you'll talk about after the games are finished?" asked Rachael.
"What do you mean?"
"Well I've heard several of the girl's talking; they want to know more about you. Where you're from? Why did Beca refer to you as Mademoiselle Matilda? Where are you staying, going to school, and many other questions? You know that when we all get together while Mary Beth opens her presents, and while we're eating cake and ice cream, everyone has fun talking."
"I hadn't realized that, after all I've never been to a birthday party before. Well I'll talk to Beca and see if she has thought of something? She has probably already thought of a background story for me, she's usually on top of those sorts of things. In the meantime, I see that you and Kimmie aren't doing so well, with the treasure hunt I mean."
"I guess we just aren't fast enough. Plus we think Mrs. Phelps hid them too good."
"What can't you find?"
"Oh they're just silly things: a ceramic chicken, a ceramic elephant, and a ceramic turtle. Like I said, just silly things but we're having a hard time finding them."
"I guess I've got it easy as far as the treasure hunt goes. Being teamed up with Mary Beth, we have a little bit of a home court advantage."
"Some girl's have all the luck," teased Rachael.
"Speaking of luck, who do you think is going to win the ping-pong tournament?" I asked changing the subject.
"Oh yes, we're supposed to be cheering for our teammates, aren't we?" asked Rachael.
"Well I guess they would like it if we did."
We both turned our attention back to the game. I had the information I needed to help my friend and sister. The game between Mary Beth and Kimmie was close; they were both good at ping-pong, but as we heard the music, ending the round, Mary Beth was ahead, seventeen to fifteen. The four of us quickly went upstairs. Once everyone had gathered in the living room, teams three and four were directed downstairs as the other three teams were given envelopes with our next treasure hunt item.
"I was right Mary Beth;" I told her when we were alone, "The items that Kimmie and Rachael couldn't find are the one's that your Mother creatively hid."
"What are you suggesting Matilda?"
"First; we get the turtle that we need for this round, where there's one turtle, there should be two. Second; you run up to Martha's room after another chicken while I brave the roses to get another elephant."
"Sounds like a good plan to me Matilda. Are we trying to help them win the treasure hunt?"
"Who said anything about helping them win? I was thinking more along the line of a tie." I answered with a giggle.
"That's a terrific plan; I don't think Mom had a tie in mind when she planed the treasure hunt. So where do we find some turtle's? Miss Holmes." Mary Beth asked with a giggle.
"Well, answer this for me Mary Beth. What is that big potted plant that's in the corner of your living room, the one by the window?"
"That's a Rubber Tree."
"That’s what I thought it was. Now, is it my imagination or are the turtle's in its pot new?"
Mary Beth rushed to the living room to check out the Rubber Tree. "Matilda, I'd never even noticed those little turtle's there. When did you see them?"
"This morning, after Beca introduced me as her little sister; you came up to hug me, and then you led me to the couch to sit by you. That’s when I noticed the turtle's in the pot with the rubber tree. I thought they made a cute addition. I know they weren't there when I was here three weeks ago."
"Well, come on Miss Holmes, let’s get moving, were almost out of time on this round."
"I thought my nickname was Munchkin?"
"Of course your nickname is Munchkin, we all agreed to it, but you still need a last name don't you?"
"Oh Mary Beth, what am I going to do with you?"
"Just give me a hug and say thanks dear friend."
I smiled and shook my head before giving Mary Beth a hug. Yes the long hair still tickles my ears, gee I like being a girl.
"Mary Beth, where can we hide the items for Rachael and Kimmie until were ready for them. We don't want to put them in their basket until the last moment."
"We can hide them in a draw in the china cabinet, I'll show you where. You’re right about not putting them in their basket until the time is right, but when will that be?”
“I think the right time would be just after everyone goes downstairs for the ping-pong finals. We can slip them out of the drawer and into their basket without anyone knowing. The next time anyone should be looking would be when the winner is announced."
"That sounds like a great plan Matilda. Lets get moving."
We put one turtle in our basket and one in the drawer in the china cabinet. Then Mary Beth went up after the chicken as I went out to capture another elephant. We got them both hidden without anyone else noticing.
During the next round, Mary Beth played ping-pong with Jennifer as her opponent. Paula and I spent most of the time cheering, we did talk a little mostly about the party and how each team was doing with the treasure hunt. Mary Beth added nineteen points to her credit, giving her a total of, thirty-six points. She wasn't very happy with her performance and didn't think she had a chance of being in the finals.
The next round it was my turn to open the envelope. After all the cute ceramic objects we've search for, we suddenly got something that I wouldn't know what to do with, if I had one in my hand, a baseball.
"Well Mary Beth, I guess one of your brothers might have one," I suggested.
"Why would we need my brothers’ baseball? We'll just get my ball."
"Mary Beth, you have your own baseball?"
"Ball, glove, bat the works. You don't play baseball, Matilda?"
"No, not really, being that I’m so small for my age, I've just never taken to sports much. I'm surprised that you do. I mean, to me, you’re the perfect model of what a girl is suppose to be. You're kind and loving, you'll go out of your way to help someone in need, and you’re always dressed so properly for a girl. I don't think I've ever seen you in a pair of pants or those disgusting jeans that everyone wears."
"Well my dear friend Matilda, I guess you don't know me as well as you thought you did. I like baseball, volleyball, tennis and soccer. I also like to sing, cook and sew, but you're right about denim jeans being disgusting."
"Well, all right then, you go and get your baseball. I need to have a talk with Beca," I said. We split up; Mary Beth went upstairs as I went in search of Beca.
I found Beca in the kitchen, with Mom and Mrs. Phelps, helping with last minute preparations.
"Beca, could we talk for a minute?" I asked.
"Sure thing Munchkin, what's on your mind," Beca replied cheerfully.
"Umm, could we talk privately?"
"Serious huh? Sure, come with me," Beca replied as she led the way out of the kitchen and into the dining room.
"So what's on your mind Matilda?" Beca asked, as we sat side by side at the table.
"I'm wondering if you have thought of a background story for me. After all while Mary Beth is opening her gifts and while we're all eating cake and ice cream, the other girl's are going to want to know more about me."
"Well, we could just tell everyone that you're only twelve day's old, and therefore have no background," Beca said with an evil grin.
"Beca," I said, with a moan, "You can't tell them that."
"How about this, we tell them that you're really a scared little boy who thinks that life would be better if you were a girl."
"Beca!" I almost screamed. My eyes must have been as big as silver dollars. "What are you trying to do to me?"
"Relax Matilda, I'm just teasing you," Beca said, as she put an arm around me, reassuring me. "I introduced you this morning as my little sister, didn’t I? We'll continue along that story line. I'm from Phoenix, Arizona, so it's doubtful that anyone here would know us. Anyway, as I said, you're my little sister. I'm attending a private school just north of here. You've come up to visit for several weeks. The Covington's are friends of the family, and you've been staying with them at night, while being with me during the day. That should cover just about any question that might come up, even if anyone has seen you and your Mother coming or going each day."
"For a minute you had me worried Beca. I've been to Phoenix, so I can describe the area if I need to." I added.
"Well, there you have it, a complete background story. All you need is a Mother, Margaret, and a father, James, and of course a last name, Stanford," Beca added, to complete the story.
"That's great, thanks Beca. You're the greatest," I said, giving Beca a hug.
Beca then went to play the music over the intercom, indicating the end of the round, as I continued to sit in the dinning room thinking. I went over the details in my mind over, and over, so they would come naturally when they started asking me questions. I think that I'm ready for the gauntlet that would surely come. Filled with confidence and a new background I was ready to rejoin the others.
I caught up with Mary Beth, who had just opened our last envelope.
"Okay Miss Holmes," said Mary Beth, with that teasing grin. "Giving your skills of observation and your apparently keen memory, just where do you think we'll find this item?"
"Well now my dear Miss Watson, it is as they say, elementary. As you know, these are nocturnal creatures." Mary Beth was looking at me funny, she obviously had no idea what I was talking about, and I couldn't help myself as I giggled. "This means that they sleep during the day and venture forth at night, to forage for food. As the sun is still high in the sky, we should assume that our quarry should be sleeping. Their normal sanctuaries for their daytime slumber are the tops of trees, or tall structures that would provide a resting place where they would be safe from other predators."
Mary Beth couldn't take it any more; she almost burst as she asked, "Matilda, what on earth are you talking about?"
I laughed again as I explained, "Look high Mary Beth. Look in high places where it's normally dark during the day."
Mary Beth’s confusion was obvious. I took her by the hand and led her into the dinning room. I told her to look up and to turn slowly. She circled twice before she noticed the object of our quest. Sitting on top of the china cabinet, in an area that would usually be in shadow, is where Mary Beth finally spotted a small flock, napping quietly in the shadows.
"Matilda, how did you know they were there? When did you notice them?"
"Mary Beth, just push a chair over next to the china cabinet and climb up and retrieve one of them. You are, after all, taller than I am. I may have been the one to go fishing, but you’re elected to do the rock climbing," it was my turn to tease.
Mary Beth started laughing as well. She moved a chair and retrieved a ceramic owl from the top of the china cabinet.
Our quest complete, Mary Beth and I returned to the living room, giggling and teasing each other while we waited for the end of the round.
We heard the music indicating that this round had ended. As the other girl's made their way back into the living room, I noticed that most of the girls were happy and giggling. There were a few, of the girls, that seamed a little depressed, Rachael and Kimmie to be exact.
"Well girls, how'd the second half of the treasure hunt go?” asked Mrs. Phelps, once everyone had gathered once again in the living room.
The consensus was that ten-minute rounds were better, as almost everyone had been able to find their objects.
"That's great, I'm really glad that the second half of the treasure hunt was more enjoyable for everyone," replied Mrs. Phelps. "I guess the problems with the first half of the treasure hunt were my fault. I thought you'd have been able to find everything in five minutes. I guess I hid the objects better than I'd intended. I'm sorry. Well, now it's time for the finals of the ping-pong tournament. Lizy, which two girls scored the most points during the semi-finals?"
"After adding the numbers twice, to make sure I didn't make a mistake, the two girls with the most points are, with thirty-six points each, Mary Beth," everyone applauded, interrupting Lizy, "and Penny." Lizy shouted over the roar of the crowd.
"Well done girls, congratulations to both of you," Mrs. Phelps said. "All right now, let’s have everyone downstairs for the conclusion of our ping-pong tournament. With this many girls, I expect to hear lots of cheering and excitement during the final game."
Everyone started downstairs, except for me. I had a secret mission to complete before I could join the others.
As I hung back Beca noticed, "Is everything all right Matilda?" she asked.
"Oh yes, everything is just great. I just have something I need to do before I come down. It will just take me a couple of minutes," I replied.
"You're sure everything's okay?" asked Beca.
"Yes Beca, I'm really having a wonderful time."
"Okay Munchkin, don't take too long or you'll miss the game. By the way, it's down the hall, the second door on your left."
"Thanks Beca," I said. I knew that she was giving me directions to the bathroom. What Beca didn't know was that I needed to be alone in the dinning room for about two minutes. I started into the hall, but once Beca was out of sight, down the stairs, I tiptoed into the dinning room. I looked around to make sure I was alone before opening the drawer in the china cabinet. I quickly removed the three items and placed them in Kimmie and Rachael's basket. I then looked at each of the baskets. What I discovered was that each of the other team had found six out of seven items. Mary Beth and I were the only ones to find all seven. Not being able to talk about it with Mary Beth right now, but from our conversation earlier I'm sure that she would agree. I took the Owl from our basket and put it in the drawer in the china cabinet. Smiling to myself, I went downstairs to join the others.
Beca saw me as I exited the stairwell. I guess she was wondering what had taking me so long because she came over to talk with me.
"Is everything all right Matilda?" Beca wanted to know. The sincerity in her voice told me how much she truly cared about me.
"Yes Beca, everything is just fine. I just hope Mrs. Phelps has a good sense of humor," I said with a mischievous smile.
"All right Munchkin, just what did you do?" Beca demanded.
"Who me, would I have done anything I shouldn't?" I asked, trying to not, look guilty.
Beca took my arm and led me into Mr. Phelps office.
"Now we can talk privately Matilda, now tell me, just what did you do?” Beca asked, with her hands on her hips, looking down at me.
"Beca, I'm just here to enjoy myself and have fun," I'd started to say.
"MATILDA!" Beca demanded.
I started laughing as I said, "My dear Rebecca, I've never seen you try to act so mean and serious. You really don't do it very well." I was laughing hard now almost out of control. "If you want I could arrange for you to take lessons from my Dad."
Beca started laughing as well, and then we both sat on the couch. I then told her the whole story, my talk with Rachael about the trouble they had with the first half of the treasure hunt. Then I related my conversation with Mary Beth. How we’d agreed that we would try to help Kimmie and Rachael. I explained why I'd stayed upstairs when everyone else came down and finally about the arrangement of the five-way tie, by removing and hiding the Owl that Mary Beth and I had found.
Beca agreed that I'd done nothing wrong. As for Mrs. Phelps and her sense of humor, well, that remained to be seen.
"Matilda, I want to know something. How and where did you find the Owl? You and Mary Beth were the only ones to find it."
"There on top of the china cabinet in the dinning room. I noticed them there when you and I were talking earlier."
"I didn't see them there. How is it that you saw them there and nobody else did?"
"Beca, being overly smart in the public schools system has certain negative drawbacks. Being overly smart and very small creates for a hazardous combination. You learn quickly to be observant, or you learn to enjoy pain. Out of necessity, you learn to notice everything about your surroundings, the people around you, both near and at a distance, and you're always looking for possible hiding places. For me, when I'm at school, these are everyday lifesaving skills."
"Oh Matilda, I had no idea that life was so bad for you," Beca said as she put her arm's around me.
Just then, we heard a lot of cheering coming from the other room.
"Well it looks like we missed the ping-pong," I said, as Beca released me. Too bad, I would have enjoyed sitting with her just a little longer.
"I guess we better go congratulated the winner," Beca said, as she rose from the couch and was offering me a hand.
As we left Mr. Phelps office, we saw Mary Beth and Penny hugging each other, as Mary Beth congratulated Penny for a wonderfully played game. I later heard that at the end of their ten minute game there was a tie. Therefore, they had played not one but two overtime rounds of three minutes each, each one ending in a tie. They finally had to play a sudden death round, as Mrs. Phelps put it, where the next point scored by either one would win.
After the congratulations had just about died down, Mrs. Phelps addressed everyone, "Girls, may I have your attention please." After it was quiet, she continued. "I'm pleased to see that everyone is having a good time. We have one more game to play; actually, this game is for Mary Beth to play and the rest of you to cheer. The game is of my own invention, I call it Gift Guess." All of us girls were confused, as evident by our expressions.
Mrs. Phelps laughed before she continued; "This is very simple and should be fun for everyone. Each of the gifts that were brought had a card attached, which I've removed. The way this game is played, Mary Beth will sit in the middle of the large couch; the rest of you girls may sit any place you wish. Mary Beth will be handed and open gifts at random. Here's where the fun begins, Mary Beth has to guess who brought that gift. Just to make things a little more interesting I've added a few extra gifts to the mix. Doesn't this sound like fun?"
Everyone, except Mary Beth, thought the idea sounded like lots of fun.
"If everyone would please return to the living room we'll begin," announced Mrs. Phelps.
Everyone headed for the stairs with a couple of exceptions. Rachael and I went to talk with Mom.
When we were almost alone in the basement I whispered, "Mom, we didn't have time to get and wrap gifts."
"Relax girls, I dropped off gifts in your names a couple of days ago," Mom said reassuringly.
"Well don't you think we should know what we're giving Mary Beth? Being that Mrs. Phelps has invented this game."
"That might be a good idea," Mom agreed. "When we were at the Crossroads Plaza, I noticed how the two of you were ogling the display in the window at Victoria Secrets. I just assumed that all girls your age want those styles. When I was a girl we didn't think about Victoria Secrets until after we were married."
"Mom! What are you saying?" I asked, afraid of what the answer might be.
"I sent Mary Beth, in your name Matilda, a pink baby doll nightie, see through of course. Rachael sent her a red lace garter belt with several sets of stockings," Mom answered.
Both Rachael and I were shocked. Rachael's mouth had dropped open and I just stared at Mom in disbelief, an expression of horror on my face.
"Mom, you didn't?" I finally managed to say, after an hour went by, actually about twenty seconds.
Mom just stood there, as serious as I've ever seen her. After another hour or so, she broke a smile, and started giggling.
"Of course I didn't, but how often do I get to tease both of you at the same time? I just couldn't resist," she finally said. "What I did do was ordered a couple of those dolls that you've been wishing for, you know, the ones from americangirl.com. Matilda, you're giving Mary Beth Samantha. Rachael, you're giving her Nellie."
“But Mom, how come you gave Mary Beth the dolls that you won’t even get for us?” asked Rachael.
“Anything you want to add Matilda?” asked Mom.
“Rachael, it’s because Mary Beth is my best friend, and Mom knows how special Mary Beth is to me, and what I would do for her. At American Girl that pair is referred to as "Best Friends." True friendship doesn't know limitations, only love and sacrifice.”
Rachael only nodded, I’m not sure if she really understands or not, but right now it doesn’t matter.
Mom hugged us both as she put one arm around each of us and moved us toward the stairs. "We better hurry or we're going to miss all the fun."
"Well, there are our missing guests," said Mrs. Phelps, as we emerged from the stairs. "We were just trying to decide who should pick which gift should be opened?"
"I know I'm just a guest here and most of you don't know me," I said, "But I think Lizy or Beca should pick the order that Mary Beth opens the gifts. They’re probably the only ones who didn't bring a gift, and therefore don't know who brought what."
"That sounds like an excellent idea Matilda," said Mrs. Phelps. "All those in favor of following Matilda's suggestion, raise your hand."
Everyone raised a hand, with the exception of Beca and Lizy. Now why wouldn't they think it was a good idea? From the look on Beca's face, maybe volunteering them might not have been a good idea. I just keep getting in deeper and deeper.
A second later, they both smiled. "That should be fun," said Lizy.
"Is everyone ready?" asked Beca.
There they go, teasing me again. I'm going to have to work on that, I'm just too easy to tease.
All the girls cheered as Beca picked up the first gift and presented it to Mary Beth, as if she were royalty.
Mary Beth thanked Beca graciously and then proceeded to shred the wrapping paper. Everyone looked on in awe as the gift was revealed, a plain brown cardboard box, how exciting. Someone suggested that opening the box could be fun as well, several of the girls giggled. After the ripping of tape and the throwing of Styrofoam peanuts, a large brown plastic fishing tackle box was revealed.
"Gee whiz, who would have giving me a fishing tackle box," said Mary Beth. "Anyone that knows me at all knows that I simply despise fish." After Mary Beth opened the tackle box, she became more excited. "It's full of ribbons, bows and lots of pretty things to go in my hair. This gift had to come from you Mom."
"Why would you think that dear?" asked Mrs. Phelps.
"It's simple, the best way to stop me from snitching hair pretties from Martha and Carolyn, which makes them yell, is for me to have my own. Thanks Mom, I was wondering when I saw the tackle box, that was clever but sneaky."
"You're welcome Mary Beth," said Mrs. Phelps.
Lizy handed Mary Beth the next gift. As she eagerly started again, shredding the wrapping paper to reveal another brown box.
“Hey Mom,” Mary Beth called out, “We should keep some of these boxes for Jeffery.”
“Why do you say that dear?” inquired Mrs. Phelps.
“You know that kids under the age of five have more fun with the box the toy came in, than the toy. Just look at all these boxes, Jeffery will have a blast with them,” said Mary Beth with a giggle. Several of the other girls agreed that their younger siblings did the same.
Inside the box was a large decorative binder, an assortment of paper, scissors that wouldn’t cut straight lines, glue and some of those funny corner things. Mary Beth looked puzzled by the contents as she removed them from the box and laid them out on the coffee table.
“Well they are all very nice, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with them,” commented Mary Beth.
Several of the girls giggled, but stopped as Mary Beth looked up causing her to frown a little. As I had arrived late I was sitting across the room, but that didn’t stop Mary Beth from singling me out.
“All right Mademoiselle Matilda, you’re the detective here. What would this collection of items be used for?” inquired Mary Beth.
I gracefully rose and went to examine the objects, first hand. Thank you Miss Adams for your excellent teaching I thought to myself. After examining the bottle of glue and the labeling on the plastic wrap on some of the paper I returned to my seat and, after carefully smoothing out my dress, sat down, spreading my skirt out.
Smiling, I asked Mary Beth, “Do you have pictures of special events that you wish to remember?”
“Yes I do, there in a shoe box in my closet. What does that have to do with all of this?” There were again a few giggles from the other girls.
“If you were to organize those pictures into a book,” I asked Mary Beth, “Along with some of your poetry and some of the special things you’ve done at school, what would you call that book?”
I overheard several more soft giggles as Mary Beth was thinking about the question.
“A Scrap Book,” someone whispered a little loudly.
“A Scrap Book?” asked Mary Beth.
“A Scrap Book, Mary Beth,” I said confidently. “What you have there is a nice collection of scrapbook supplies, complete with acid free paper and acid free glue. The question before you now is which of your friends enjoys scrap booking enough to have given you such a large collection of supplies, as a gift. From the number of giggles I’d say there are several candidates.” I as well as several others giggled then.
As Mary Beth was pondering that question Molly, who was sitting next to me, leaned over and asked me a question.
“Matilda, why did Beca, this morning, and now Mary Beth address you as Mademoiselle Matilda?”
“Well Mary Beth I’m sure, just picked it up from Beca, she is probably just trying to tease me a little,” I said. “Beca had some classes in French last year and has been referring to me as mademoiselle ever since. As I understand it, it refers to a female who has never been married.”
“Well for someone who’s only eight or nine, I hope you’ve never been married,” Molly added with a giggle.
“Most definitely not,” I replied with a giggle. I ignored the reference to my age, rather than embarrassing her, or me, I decided not to try to correct her.
It took Mary Beth a couple of minutes and three tries to determine that Paula had given her the collection of scrapbook supplies.
Beca brought forth the next gift and the paper was quickly removed. Inside were a small digital camera and a carrying case. Almost all the girls were excited and impressed with this present. I noticed that two of the girls were not as excited as the others, one of which was smiling. Molly was my guess for the bearer of such a nice gift.
“Wow! This is great,” Mary Beth exclaimed, as she examined the camera. “Now who would have brought this?” It took three heads shaking no before Mary Beth found a yes. I was right it was indeed Molly. “I should have known it would be you Molly. You and your family are always taking loads of pictures.”
Lizy handed Mary Beth the next package. It was about twenty inches long and about ten inches square. As Mary Beth unwrapped the box, it was apparent to everyone in attendance what the box contained. Through the cellophane panel everyone could see, and knew who it was. From her short blonde hair, blue eyes, the blue dress, as well as the white stockings and black shoes. In Mary Beth’s lap was Nellie, a recent addition to the American Girl doll collection.
“Mom, did you and Dad get Nellie for me?” asked Mary Beth softly.
“Umm, no dear,” Mrs. Phelps said softly, “That isn’t one of the gifts that I added to the collection. She has obviously come from one of your friends.”
With a tear forming in the corner of one eye, Mary Beth gently removed Nellie from her box. It was several minutes before Mary Beth could continue. She just sat on the couch, surrounded by her friends, holding Nellie and occasionally wiping a tear from one eye or the other.
Finally Beca broke in, “Hey I thought this was a party, you’re supposed to be happy and smiling, not crying.” Beca then held out the next gift to Mary Beth, who gently laid Nellie on the coffee table with the other gifts.
“Hey wait a minute,” called out Jennifer. “You haven’t guessed who gave you Nellie.”
“I’ll think about that later,” said Mary Beth. “Let’s move on, there’s cake waiting and I for one am getting hungry.” Mary Beth tore open the next gift; the box was white like dress would be in. As Mary Beth opened the box and moved the tissue paper there was a single giggle come from one corner of the room. What was in the box was pink, and it did have ruffles, but Mary Beth didn’t take it out of the box.
“Okay Kimmie,” Mary Beth said with a smile. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I knew you would like it. The way you kept talking about mine the last time we had a sleepover. So I thought it would be a good, but silly gift,” answered Kimmie.
“Well, what is it?” asked Mrs. Phelps.
Mary Beth took it out of the box for all to see. It’s a pink baby doll nightie, very, short and with frilly lace around the collar, sleeves, bottom hem, as well as around the waist and leg openings of the matching panties. It’s a lovely shade of pink, and with the way Mary Beth was blushing as she held them up, the color was almost a match.
“Put it on, Mary Beth,” someone called out.
“Yes, model them Mary Beth,” called another.
“No, no, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” replied Mary Beth.
“Oh, go on Mary Beth,” said Kimmie. “We’re all girls here, its okay.”
“No, I don’t want to model them,” Mary Beth said, while looking into my eyes.
About half of the girls started to chant, model, model, model . . .
“GIRLS,” I said loud enough to be heard, “While it’s true that we’re all girls here, Mary Beth has said no. We, being her friends, don't have the right to try and talk her into doing something that she doesn’t want to do. I suggest we move on to the next gift, I’m sure Mary Beth will enjoy her new nightie when the time is right.”
Mary Beth smiled as I finished and mouthed ‘Thank You.’ I looked at Beca, who was also smiling, and nodded her approval of my comments.
Lizy handed over the next package to be unwrapped. Mary Beth had only opened one end when she suddenly stopped.
“Mother, how could you?” Mary Beth called out.
“What’s the problem dear,” asked Mrs. Phelps.
“I really didn’t need to open these in public,” exclaimed Mary Beth.
“You do need some new ones,” said Mrs. Phelps.
“Okay fine, this package is from my Mom,” said Mary Beth as she added the package, almost completely wrapped, to the growing pile on the coffee table.
“Mary Beth, what is it?” asked Lizy.
“Oh all right, just so everyone knows its underwear all right, just underwear,” answered Mary Beth, in a huff.
“So what’s the problem? Mary Beth,” asked Julie. “Every one wears underwear.”
“Mary Beth is just a little embarrassed to have it be known that she still likes lace on her underwear,” Mrs. Phelps said. “It’s really nothing to be embarrassed about, Mary Beth. Girls, I'd like a show of hands, now be honest, who here likes to wear underwear with lace?”
Mary Beth put her head down and covered her face with both hands. Penny, who was sitting next to her, put one arm around her as she slowly raised the other. Then Lizy raised her hand, of course I had to raise mine, as did Rachael. In all seven out of twelve girls (counting Beca and Lizy) raised their hands.
“Mary Beth, would you look up please?” asked Mrs. Phelps.
Slowly Mary Beth lifted her head; she was surprised to see so many hands raised. Well, she just had to add hers, making it eight out of twelve. Mary Beth was smiling again, finished unwrapping the lacy underwear, and laid them out, inside the open box with the nightie.
“I guess that asking you to model them is out of the question,” said Kimmie, with a giggle.
“Completely out of the question,” said Mary Beth, with an evil smile that said I’m going to get you for that one Kimmie.
The next package Mary Beth opened contained two DVD’s, “Princess Diaries” and “Princess Diaries II.” By the process of elimination, she determined that Penny had given them to her. The next package opened contained several small bottles of perfume, which turned out to have come from Jennifer. The largest package was finally placed in Mary Beth’s lap. This turned out to be from Sara, the stuffed animal queen of the group. Sara had bestowed upon Mary Beth something that would take up half of her bed, a large Teddy Bear with a Hello Kitty t-shirt. There was a matching t-shirt for Mary Beth; it was so long that its intention might be a nightgown.
It only seemed appropriate that the largest gift should be followed by the smallest gift. As Mary Beth opened it, she was almost shocked. Inside were two pairs of earrings, for pierced ears. I sure the reason for her surprise is that Mary Beth doesn’t have pierced ears.
“Mom, may I ask you a question?” said Mary Beth.
“You just did Mary Beth, would you like to ask me another one?” replied Mrs. Phelps.
“Yes, Mom, may I get my ears pierced?” asked Mary Beth. Looking towards several of the girls she said, “Any time I’ve ask that question before, all she ever says is when I’m older.”
Mrs. Phelps walks over to Mary Beth and handed her a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a gift certificate, for ear piercing. It came from the store where I bought the earrings,” said Mrs. Phelps with a smile.
“Oh Mom, thank you, thank you,” screeched Mary Beth, as she jumped up and hugged her Mother.
Well, there are two gifts remaining to be opened. The first looked like a small suitcase, until it was opened. Inside was a large collection of colored pencils, colored markers, crayons, several tubes of paints and several artists’ brushes. It didn't take Mary Beth long to figure out that Julie had given her the crafts set.
Each time Mary Beth placed a gift on the table or had nothing else in her hand, she'd gently caress Nellie's hair or dress. After she'd determined that the craft set had come from Julie, she realized that there was only one gift left and two girls who hadn't bin associated with a gift.
Mary Beth looked up then asked the question, "Rachael, did you give me Nellie?"
Rachael didn't move for several seconds, and then she slowly nodded yes.
"Oh Rachael, Thank you," was all Mary Beth could say.
The last gift was placed in Mary Beth's hands. Oddly enough it seemed to be about the same size as the package that, when opened, had revealed Nellie. Mary Beth seemed a little nervous as she started to open it. She, along with the rest of the girls realized that, I was the only one not associated with a previously opened gift. Therefore, the gift on her lap, slowly being opened, had come from me.
Mary Beth started crying as she pulled off enough wrapping paper to reveal the hidden contents, which she immediately hugged preventing anyone else from seeing it. Penny put an arm around Mary Beth, asking her what was wrong. Mary Beth turned the package so Penny could see what Mary Beth had seen.
"Oh my," gasped Penny. "Matilda, this is from you?"
I calmly sat with my hands folded in my lap, the perfect image of a proper young lady as I'd been taught. Inwardly I wanted to jump up and down screaming YES, YES, YES. Shyly I nodded yes. I needed a tissue.
Slowly, with Penny helping Mary Beth, they finished unwrapping my gift. Once most of the paper had been removed, everyone knew what my gift to Mary Beth was. From her long brown hair, dark eyes, the gold locket around her neck, the red and white checker dress, to her black stockings and shoes. Mary Beth held in her lap, Samantha, the pride of the American Girl doll collection. All the girls were instantly envious, including me actually. I was trying hard not to cry along with Mary Beth. I knew, from my conversations with my friends, as Matt, that almost all of them wanted to have an American Girl doll, not everyone wanted Samantha, but one of the American Girl dolls. Now Mary Beth had not one but two, the pair known as “Best Friends.”
By this time, her Mother was by Mary Beth's side, armed with more tissues.
“Mom, why would a friend give a gift like this?” asked Mary Beth softly, with a tears running down her cheeks, as she gently removed Samantha from her box.
“Mary Beth,” Mrs. Phelps said, as she handed her daughter a tissue, “It’s a sign of true friendship, to give to your friend something that you want for yourself, but cannot have.” Mary Beth sat on the couch, as her friends looked on. She was rocking Samantha and wiping tears from her eyes.
"Well now girls, it's time for cake and ice cream," said Mrs. Phelps, trying to restore some cheer and merriment. "We also need to determine the winning team for our treasure hunt. Everyone into the dinning room please."
Everyone, except Mary Beth, got up and started to leave the living room. As I was moving along with the rest of the girls, Beca stopped me. Without a word spoken, she turned me around, pointing to Mary Beth who was still sitting on the couch, hugging Samantha, and gently rocking back and forth. Mary Beth didn’t notice as I approached.
“Mary Beth,” I said, “I didn’t mean for you to be sad.”
“Oh, Matilda,” she said, looking up at me, smiling through her tears, “I’ve never been happier in my life.”
Mary Beth set Samantha aside and reached out to me, pulling me onto her lap as she’d done so many times before. It was several minutes before either of us moved.
Finally, I kissed Mary Beth’s forehead and said, “Come on best friend, the others are waiting for the birthday girl to cut the cake.”
I tried to rise gracefully from Mary Beth’s lap, getting off someone’s lap wasn’t something Miss Adams had covered. I then offered Mary Beth a hand, to help her stand. Together we went into the dinning room, with Mary Beth carrying Samantha in one arm and Nellie in the other. As we entered, there was a round of applause. Mary Beth took her seat at the head of the table, after placing the new friends in the high chair that was in the corner; strangely enough, the seat to her right had been reserved for me. I’m not sure, but I think Beca had something to do with it, judging from her smile. As soon as we were seated, the lights were turned off, and as the curtains had already been closed it was quite dark. Just then, the door to the kitchen opened and Mrs. Phelps came in carrying a large birthday cake with ten burning candles. Everyone broke into song, singing Happy Birthday. Just as the cake was place in front of Mary Beth the song ended, timing of course is everything.
Everyone shouted, “Make a wish Mary Beth, make a wish and blow out the candles.”
Mary Beth looked at me in a strange way that I’d never seen before, took a deep breath and blew out all ten candles. Everyone cheered, as the candles were removed. Mary Beth then carefully cut the cake into even slices, which her Mom then served, with my Mom adding a large scoop of Vanilla Ice Cream.
As we were enjoying the treat, Mrs. Phelps announced that there was a slight problem.
“I don’t know how this could have happened girls, but somehow our treasure hunt has ended in a five way tie.” Mary Beth looked at me as if wanting to ask a question, I gave her my innocent ‘who me’ look. “Each team it seems collected six out of seven items, so I guess we don’t have a winner. You are of course all winners, for anyone that can be called a friend, by someone else, is truly a special person.”
After everyone had their fill of cake and ice cream - judging from the way they ate several of the girls needed to go through “Girl 101” - and pleasant conversation was enjoyed by all, it was time for Mary Beth to bid farewell to her guests.
After the other girls were gone, Rachael and I helped clean up the dinning room as Lizy and Beca cleaned up all the shredded gift-wrapping. Mary Beth took all her new treasures up to her room, than came back down to say goodbye to the four of us. I never saw Mary Beth without Samantha the rest of time that we were there. It was finally time to say goodbye as Mom, Rachael and I, as well as, Lizy and Beca got into our car. That’s why we needed the car to go one and a half blocks; Mom’s taking Beca and Lizy back to the Manor. Mom dropped Rachael and me off at our house so we could change before Dad got home. Karen was there when we arrived.
“Rachael, who is your friend,” asked Karen.
Both Rachael and I chuckled at that.
“Karen, I’d like to introduce you to Mademoiselle Matilda,” said Rachael, trying to imitate Beca’s French accent.
“That’s Matilda?” asked Karen, dumbfounded. “I guess you can do a lot with hair, makeup and the right kind of polishing. I never would have guessed that this, this, beautiful girl used to be my scrawny little brother,” said Karen, as she circled me while shaking her head. “Well if you two are going to keep this a secret from Dad you better hurry and change. Dad should be home in about twenty minutes.”
Before Dad got home, both Rachael and I were back to normal, makeup removed, faces washed, my wig had been brushed out and no longer looked like it belonged to a princess. Our dresses were carefully put away in Rachael’s closet of course. The three of us were in the family room as Dad came home, Karen was watching those silly monster trucks again, and I was helping Rachael with yet another puzzle. We were just three happy kids and their father, spending a quite Saturday evening together. Dad of course had no clue as to what had transpired that day.
What a perfect day, this is what life is all about. Helping other people and making others happy. The memory of this day will live with me for the rest of my life.
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 9
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
It’s time for Matilda to say goodbye to happiness, and hello to a cruel world.
This chapter contains realistic scenes that may be upsetting to some people.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Hart
For their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 9
The rest of the weekend was absolutely, heavenly. I was so happy after Mary Beth's party that nothing could upset me or make me sad. Sunday seemed to just, float by as of drifting along with a sea of pink clouds. Nothing any different from any other Sunday, except the way I felt because of yesterday. Monday morning rolled around and it was time to start school again even that sounded like fun. Mary Beth came over and the three of us walked together Rachael, Mary Beth and me. I was still feeling so good because of the party last Saturday that not even Black Bart pushing me around, every chance he got, could make me sad. Everything was perfect, that is, until Dad got home from work Monday evening. He seemed to be upset about something, I soon found out what it was.
“MATTHIAS JAMES COVINGTON" Dad yelled, from my room “GET YOUR ASS IN HERE, RIGHT NOW!” You know you are in trouble when your Mom calls you by full given name, but when you Dad does it, oh brother, you'd better look out because you’re in real trouble.
When I got to my room, Dad was standing in front of my dresser drawers. The top drawer had been pried open. The wood around the lock was broken and splintered. In Dad’s hand was a crowbar, Dad was looking into the drawer shaking his head.
When he saw me standing in the doorway he shouted, “WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THIS?”
“Umm, just some clothes,” I replied very timidly.
“JUST SOME CLOTHES? JUST SOME LITTLE GIRLS UNDERWEAR, DON’T YOU MEAN?”
I think I nodded my head. It was hanging down so far I’m not sure how I could have nodded.
"WHERE THE HELL DID THEY COME FROM AND WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN YOUR DRAWER?” His volume was becoming louder if that was possible.
Just them Mom came into the room, or at least she tried to. She almost had to pick me up and move me to get into my room.
“What's going on in here? David, why are you so upset?” Mom was obviously trying to get Dad to stop yelling, but it wasn’t working very well.
"Why am I upset? Why am I upset? Well let's just think about that question. I guess it was about two weeks ago that Craig Phelps told me that he’d seen my wife and twin daughter's at the Crossroads Plaza, how lovely my wife is, and my twin daughters are so beautiful he said. Naturally, I told him 'you must have been mistaken Craig, Edith and I don't have twin daughters'.
“Then this morning he informed me how much his wife appreciated having my wife, daughter, our houseguest, along with a couple of their friends, helping her with Mary Beth's birthday party last Saturday. I told him that we don't have a houseguest. Then he proceeded to tell me how his wife raved about this beautifully little girl at the party that looked like she could have been Rachael's twin sister and answers to the name of MATILDA. The only other time that I'd even heard the name Matilda before was from you, when you were trying to select a name for our third child. Only that was BEFORE, Matthias was born. So I started thinking to myself, who do I know that is about the same size as Rachael, looks a lot like Rachael, and could possibly be mistaken for Rachael's twin sister? The only answer to that question is MY SON MATT. Now the question is how would he or anyone else know about the name Matilda? Guess what, the only answer to that question is, it came from YOU. NO, NO, NO, I say to myself, my wife wouldn't be dressing my son up as a girl! Taking him shopping as a girl, taking him to a birthday party as a girl, she wouldn’t do that. She couldn't be that STUPID! I might not be a rocket scientist, but I can add two plus three and come up with five. Then I started thinking to myself; is there any way to prove what I suspect? Maybe I should just have a look through Matt's clothes, just out of curiosity. WELL LOOK WHAT I FOUND! PRETTY SOLID EVIDENCE, IF YOU ASK ME." Dad yelled, while pulling a handful of underwear out of my drawer.
"David please settle down, let's talk about this."
“SETTLE DOWN, SETTLE DOWN. HOW IN THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SETTLE DOWN. I'VE JUST DISCOVERED THAT MY SON HAS BEEN WEARING GIRLS UNDERWEAR, DRESSING LIKE A GIRL, GOING TO PARTIES AND GOD KNOWS WHERE ELSE HE'S BEEN. I'LL BE THE LAUGHING STOCK OF THE WHOLE PLANT. I CAN HEAR THEM NOW,
HEY DAVIE, I HEAR YOUR BOY’S A LITTLE MIXED UP IN JEANS.
YOU SURE THAT’S NOT MIXED UP IN THE GENES, DAVIE?
HEY DAVIE, WHO’S GENES RUN YOUR HOUSE?
HELL I’M PROBABLY GOING TO HAVE TO GET A NEW JOB BECAUSE OF THIS."
"Oh come now, David. Please try to relax. Let's sit down and talk about this calmly. Having a child with Gender Dysphoria is not nearly as big a problem as you're trying to make it out to be. It's definitely not the end of the world."
"You’re trying to tell me that having a son that dresses up like a girl ISN’T A PROBLEM?"
"David, is it really any different than having a daughter that dresses like a boy?"
"What are you babbling about?" Dad seemed to be calming down a little.
"Well, would you be this upset if Karen decided she wanted to wear boy's boxers instead of girl's panties? Most of the clothes she wears now are intended for boys."
"What?"
"Most of the clothes that Karen wears were designed for boys; I just want to know if you'd have a problem with Karen wearing boy’s underwear as well?'
Dad was silent. Mom paused for a few seconds before she continued.
"Maybe we should ask which gender's underwear she wants to wear. How about if she decides that she wants a crew cut, would you have a problem with that, David?"
Dad still hadn't said anything in reply to Mom's questions. I'm not sure if he was actually thinking about her questions or just letting his voice recover from all the yelling he'd been doing.
Mom didn’t give him much time to answer, "Well, what if she decides she wants to play High School football, is it a problem then? What if Karen decides that she wants to take male hormones to prevent her breasts from developing; is it a problem then? Is it something to yell and scream about?"
"That's entirely different, not the same thing at all."
"How, David? Go on, David. Tell me how it is different. How is it Matt wearing girl's clothes different from Karen wearing boy's clothes?"
"Well, it's just different, that's all."
"Why, David? Is it different because society says it's different? In today's society, it's okay for a girl to decide she doesn't like wearing dresses and it’s perfectly acceptable for her to wear pants all the time. However, let a young boy be caught wearing a dress and he's teased, ridiculed and called all sorts of names. A girl can play with cars and trucks, and that's okay; play baseball, soccer or even football, oh that's just fine. If a young boy is discovered playing with dolls, or experimenting with his Mother’s makeup, he is shamed, ridiculed and sometimes beaten. You're a boy; you're not allowed to learn what a girl’s life is like. You’re a boy; you can’t learn how to take care of children, not before you're a parent. Why is that David?"
Again, Mom didn't give Dad time to answer. It appeared that she was trying to get a lot of information into Dad all at once, forcing him to think about something that he'd always taken for granted.
"If a girl wants to learn about cars it's considered being self reliant. If a boy wants to learn to cook and sew, he's called a sissy. If a woman dresses like a man and becomes a corporate executive, it’s called equality. If a man dresses like a woman, he's called all sorts of degrading names. Why is that, David? Tell me why is it okay for a woman to aspire to appear masculine, but for a male to aspire to be feminine is wrong."
"Just what are you saying?"
"Throughout all recorded history, men have considered women as being beneath them, a lower class, sometimes property, but never truly equal. That's why society approves of women trying to appear masculine. It's considered to be upgrading their status. However, if a man, or boy, wishes to explore the world on the feminine side, society looks on this as degrading, but it just isn't so. This is the twenty-first century, David. That kind of prejudice should have been abolished along with the ratification of the nineteenth amendment in 1920."
"So what does that have to do with Matthias?"
"David, Matthias has a condition called Gender Dysphoria, which means that although the body is predominantly male, the mind is predominantly female. She wishes to be addressed with a feminine name and prefers Matilda. She doesn't like wearing boy’s clothes, she is truly happy, only when she's wearing frilly girls' clothes."
It was quiet for a moment, then Dad explored.
“YOU'RE TELLING ME HE DOES WEAR GIRL'S UNDERWEAR?” Dad suddenly exploded.
Twenty minutes of information and re-education, wasted on a jarhead with no more active brain cells than your average bulldog.
“David, have you been listening to anything I've been telling you?” Mom demanded.
“MATT, ARE YOU WEARING GIRLS’ UNDERWEAR?” Dad yelled, completely ignoring the fact that Mom was trying to talk to him.
I looked at Mom, afraid to answer Dad’s question. She could see the fear in my eyes.
“Yes, she is David, but that isn’t the point. She needs to wear them for her mental health,” Mom said slowly and calmly.
“SHE needs them, HER mental health? Matt's a boy! And what the hell do you mean - mental health — more of that 'Psycho Babble' of yours?”
"It’s not babble, David, it’s called 'Gender Dysphoria' and about 1 in 15,000 males suffer from this condition to various degrees, it's almost an epidemic."
"Good God, YOU'RE TELLING ME HE IS WEARING GIRL'S UNDERWEAR? ALL RIGHT YOUNG MAN, STRIP, RIGHT NOW!" Dad ordered.
"David stop this, you’re being irrational. Let’s talk about this some more so you can understand what is going on,” Mom pleaded, but Dad had completely tuned her out.
"Matt, don't just stand there looking at me like that. I SAID STRIP!” Dad bellowed.
I slowly started to take off my shirt.
"David, don't do this to Matilda. You have no idea the psychological trauma you're causing."
"I'm not doing anything, to anyone named Matilda! I told Matt to strip"
"David, stop this! You don't know what you're doing!"
"Don't know what I'm doing? I think that after ten years in the Marine Corps I'd know how to give an order. When I give an order around here, I expect to be OBEYED. Now get those clothes off."
After I finished taking off my shirt, I held it in front of me trying to hide the pink vest I was wearing. I looked to my Mother for help and protection.
"Don't look at her, look at me!" Dad yelled. "She's the one that's been screwing up your head with all these crazy ideas."
"DAVID, stop this right now!" Mom said as she moved between Dad and me.
With one swing of his hand, Dad knocked Mom off her feet and sent her tumbling into my closet doors. This was the first time I’d ever witnessed my father strike my mother. I was scared to death of what he would do to me if I disobeyed him!
Although I was sobbing out of control, I slowly undid my belt and unhooked the waistband of my slacks. With a final "Move it Mister!" from Dad, I let go of the waistband. My slacks fell to the floor, in a heap around my ankles. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but that never works.
"Good God! THEY’RE PINK! AND WITH RUFFLES! SHE'S TURNING YOU INTO A DAMN SISSY."
With that, Dad grabbed the pillow from my bed and took off the pillowcase. I stood there sobbing, as I watched him empty the contents of my drawer into the pillowcase.
Then Dad came over to me, and just shook his head. He grabbed the neck of my vest and ripped it, shredding it as he tore it off me. Then he did the same with my panties. Completely naked and sobbing, I fell to the floor, curled into a ball of rejected, weeping, misery.
“I don’t EVER want to hear that you've been wearing girls’ clothes again, DO YOU HEAR ME MISTER? No son of mine is going to grow up to be some sort of damn queer, sissy, faggot or freak. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” He was yelling so loud that I am sure that the whole world could hear him. Then Dad stormed out of my room.
Rachael told me later that Dad dumped all my clothes into the garbage can and burned them. I don’t know if it mattered or not then, but Dad didn't know that my wig, makeup, party dress and the rest of my clothes were hidden away in Rachael’s room.
I don't know what happened after that. The next thing that I can remember, it was Thursday morning, I think. Anyway, Mom was trying to feed me some oatmeal. When Mom noticed that I was starting to respond, she dropped the bowl and spoon and through her arms around me.
"Oh Matilda, I'm so sorry. I had no idea your Father would react that way. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, . . . oh Matilda, . . . I’m so, so sorry . . .” Mom just went on, and on. I didn't say anything; in fact, at that time, I never uttered a sound.
As I slowly remembered what had happened to me, four days before, I started to cry. I cried all that day. Mom spent the whole day with me on her lap. Nothing she said or did could stop my tears. I have never known such agonizing misery, such utter rejection, and such absolute humiliation. To realize, that my own Father, could and does hate so much the person that I truly am. Eventually Mom had to put me down, to start dinner for the family. As much as she hated to leave me, she finally had no choice. She picked me up and carried me to my bed. A little later Rachael came in and lay next to me, to comfort me, as I was still crying.
Between Mom, Rachael and yes, even Karen, I was never alone for the next three days. It was Saturday or Sunday before I was making sounds that had any resemblance of real words. It was two weeks after that horrible night before I was able to go back to school. I was never quite the same after that night. Part of me died that horrible night, the better part, the kind, loving, and caring part. I no longer lived, as there was no longer any meaning or purpose in my life. Days came and days went, but they had no meaning for me. I went through the motions of life, but had no desire to partake of life itself, because my life had ended.
On the first day that I went back to school, Mom and Rachael walked me to class. Mom took us early so she could talk with my teacher, Mrs. Roberts. Mom told Mrs. Roberts that I’d had a nervous breakdown and to call her if I had any problems. Of course, Mom didn’t tell Mrs. Roberts what had caused my breakdown. Rachael helped me to my desk and stayed with me until she had to go to her own class, but by then Mary Beth was there. Rachael told Mrs. Roberts that it would be good for me to have Mary Beth sitting next to me. Rachael, of course, knew that I trusted Mary Beth, and of course, how deeply Mary Beth loved me. Mrs. Roberts moved my desk and Mary Beth’s desk into a corner apart from the other students. I was still not talking very well or getting around without help, but as time went by things got better. For the next couple of weeks Mary Beth was my teacher. We went over everything we’d learned from the time were in Kindergarten together. It was as if I’d forgotten everything. However, as the days went by, I remembered more and more. Mary Beth, of course, stayed with me all day at school, she would take me to lunch, and when the class went to recess, Mary Beth and I stayed in the classroom.
One day while the class was at recess Mary Beth and I were talking and coloring, I was up to about a second grade level at that time. Without thinking, Mary Beth called me Matilda. I stopped what I was doing, as I looked at Mary Beth, suddenly I started sobbing uncontrollably.
“Oh Matt, I’m sorry. I forgot, . . . I’m sorry, oh Matt, please don’t cry, I’m so sorry.” Mary Beth was hugging me, trying to comfort me when Mrs. Roberts came in.
“Mary Beth, what’s happened here?” Mrs. Roberts asked, quickly coming over to where we were sitting.
“Oh, it’s my fault Mrs. Roberts. I called him by the wrong name. I forgot not to,” Mary Beth told her.
“What do you mean you called him by the wrong name?”
“Oops, umm I’m not supposed to say anything about it. It’s a secret; I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m not supposed to tell anybody about it. Please forget I said anything,” Mary Beth begged.
“Mary Beth, you know I can't do that. You know how much I care about both you and Matthias."
At the mention of Matthias, I couldn’t help it, I screamed as if I was in pain.
"Please, Mrs. Roberts don't use Matt's full name! As you can see, that upsets him as well," pleaded Mary Beth.
"Is that what you called him? Is that what started this?" Mrs. Roberts asked.
"No, Mrs. Roberts, it was another name, a name that only his Mother, Rachael and I called him. Well, I guess his Dad found out about it too. His Dad said that nobody was to use that name ever again, only I forgot. I called him Matil. . . Oops I almost did it again." Mary Beth said, shaking her head. Then she asked, "Mrs. Roberts is there some place where I can take Matt, just until he settles down. I don't want the others to see him like this."
"Well, I don’t know about this, Mary Beth. If something as simple as a name can make Matt cry like this, I really need to know what is going on. I can’t help if I don’t know what to do, or not to do,” Mrs. Roberts told her.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Roberts, but I just can’t tell you. I promised that I wouldn’t talk about it to anyone. It hurts her . . . I mean . . . it hurts him too much.”
“Mary Beth, what did you mean “It hurts HER” too much?”
“Please, Mrs. Roberts, don’t ask me any more questions I promised,” Mary Beth, pleaded, she was almost in tears and she begged. “Pleeease just let me take Matt some place, away from everybody else, until he settles down. Pleeease!”
“Well I don’t know about this, but for now we'll take Matt into my office until he settles down, will that be okay?”
“Oh, yes, that will be just great! Thank you, Mrs. Roberts, thank you.” Mary Beth helped me up, she and Mrs. Roberts helped me to the office. After that, Mrs. Roberts called my Mother. I don't know what was said, but my Mother came and took me home. It was two days before I was able to go back to school. Mrs. Roberts never mentioned the incident again.
It was about two weeks after that incident before I was allowed to go outside for recess. The only time Mary Beth had left my side during the last five weeks was when we weren’t at school. She wasn't permitted to see me outside of school or on the weekends. It seems that her Mother was furious when she was told that I was Matilda. Mary Beth was being treated like a stranger in her own home, as nobody would talk to her. She had meals with her family but that was all, the rest of her time at home she spent in her room, her family pretending she isn't there. We were both outcasts, me because I'm different, Mary Beth because she loves me because I'm different.
Somewhere through all of this, September twenty-ninth, my birthday, rolled around. It came and went without any acknowledgement from my family. The only person to remember my birthday, and attempted to make it a special day, was Mary Beth. On that day, during lunch she had arranged for my closest friends to gather. They had each made and presented a birthday card to me. Mary Beth, along with her card, presented me with a second card. It was from my Mother, who apologized for not doing more to make my birthday special. She hoped that her using Mary Beth to convey her love was okay. Mary Beth also brought some cup cakes to school in violation of school policy, and the six of us celebrated my tenth birthday.
I found out later that my Dad was responsible for the apparent forgetfulness of my family, but on the bright side, I also learned that my Mother had provided the cup cakes.
One day, Mom came into my room. I was just sitting on my bed not doing anything, which was usually what I did these days, just sitting. It didn’t matter what I did, I was never happy and would probably never be happy again. What happened to that perfect, beautiful, happy world that I once knew? Was it really gone for good, would I ever again know the kind of happiness that I’d once known? Oh well, I guess it just doesn't matter anymore.
“Oh, it breaks my heart to see you like this,” Mom said as she closed my door.
“Who cares?” I replied sadly. I was hugging my pillow against my chest with my head resting on it.
“I care! You know I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. I think I know how you can be.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but I really don’t care right now.”
“I know Dear, but I have something for you that I think will make you a little happier.”
“What could you have that would make me happy?”
Mom gave me a small package that she had brought in with her.
“What’s this?”
“Why don’t you open it and find out? Think of it as a late birthday present.”
I just shrug my shoulder and set it aside.
“Oh, go on, open it.”
Reluctantly I pick up the package and slowly start to open it.
I screamed and I threw the package and its contents on the floor. “Mom, WHAT’S THIS?”
“What does it look like?”
“Mom you know I can’t even look at those things again,” I start sobbing, buried my face in my pillow.
Mom picked up the contents of the package and held them out to me.
“Matilda, you can’t be something you’re not, and you can’t change who you are inside. All we can do is try to work around the rules until we can figure out a way of changing them. What I’m suggesting is that while your Father is at work, you can wear whatever you want,” Mom said, while putting a matching set of pink underwear in my hand.
I threw them towards the foot of my bed as if they would burn my hands. “But Mom, Dad will find out. Who knows what he’ll do the next time?”
“Matilda, nobody is going to know, just you and I. I’ll keep these in my room. After your Father goes to work, I’ll get them for you and you can give them back to me before he comes home.”
“But Mom?”
“But Mom, nothing! Just because your Father doesn’t understand doesn’t make him right. Your inner self is still the Matilda that I know and love, and that’s who you need to be. All we can do for right now is somehow try to work within the limitations we have.”
“Mom I just can’t. If Dad finds out that I have been wearing girls’ underwear again I’m afraid that he will throw me around instead of just throwing a fit.” I was sobbing as I choked out these words.
“I know, Matilda, I know,” Mom said while holding me in her arms.
It was about twenty minutes before I stopped crying and Mom let go of me. “Matilda, I'll just leave these with you. If you put them on or not, that’s completely up to you. Just have them back to me before you go to bed. With your Father working swing shift, you’ll have all evening each day after school to yourself.”
With that, Mom kissed my forehead and left my room, closing the door as she left.
I sat there for at least twenty minutes just looking at the panties and vest, almost afraid, to even touch them. Eventually I stretched out my hand and picked them up. I don’t know how long I held them in my hands before clutching them close to my heart. Oh, how I wanted to put them on, to declare to the world that I AM MATILDA, to allow my heart to sing and let my soul fly free once again. I just didn’t dare, I was so afraid of my Father and what he would do if he found out I just couldn’t take that chance. I spent the rest of the day just sitting on my bed, holding in my hands the only symbol of my true self. I was weeping because I couldn’t be the person that I knew I needed to be.
About 10:30, Mom knocked on my door. When I didn’t respond, she gently opened the door. I was still sitting on my bed, clutching the panties and vest which I longed to wear but couldn’t bring myself to put on. Mom could see my sorrow and torment, she held me close for a few minutes before she had to take from me, my treasure. She was surprised to find that they were soaking wet, soaked with my tears.
The next day when I came home from school, I found a matching set of purple underwear lying on my pillow. I didn’t even touch them as I changed out of my school clothes and went to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen. There was nobody in the kitchen except for Mom.
“Good afternoon, Matt, . . . Or is it Matilda?” she whispered.
I just looked at my Mother and started softly crying, “Why are you doing this to me? You know what Dad will do. Why are you doing this?” I was sobbing as I finished.
Mom picked me up and carried me back to my room. Closing the door, we sat on my bed, me on my Mother’s lap crying into her shoulder.
“Matilda, I know what your Father did and what he might do, but you can't deny who you truly are. To do so will cause you more harm than what your Father can. Do you understand?”
“B — But Mom, I can’t. I saw how he hit you. I — If he hit me that hard . . .”
“I know dear, I know. That’s why we have to be extra careful. Only you and I will know, not even Rachael will know. If you try to deny who you truly are, it will destroy you. You’ve kept this bottled up for weeks now, and if we don’t find a way for you to release the tension that is building you are going to have another breakdown. I can’t stand by and do nothing while you slowly destroy yourself trying to be something that you're not.”
“B — But Mom?”
“Shh, hush now, Dear.” Slowly Mom started removing my shirt and undershirt, putting the purple vest on me.
Oh my, it felt sooo good; I put my arms around my Mother’s neck and kissed her cheek then rested my head on her shoulder. I didn’t even notice when she slipped me off her lap and removed my trousers and briefs, replacing them with the purple panties before pulling me back onto her lap. It was many minutes later before I noticed that she was stroking my bare leg. I didn’t care I just wanted to be Matilda, and to be held by my Mother. We sat that way for the rest of the afternoon. About dinnertime, Mom finished dressing me. After I was dressed, Mom took my hand and led me to the kitchen. Together we fixed dinner for the rest of the family; it was so much fun helping Mom again.
After dinner, Mom took me into the family room where we sat together on the couch and she read to me. Oh did that bring back memories. Time almost stood still that evening, I was barely aware of the fact that Rachael and Karen were in the room, also listening to Mom. At 10:30, Mom took me into my room where she undressed me and got me ready for bed. Then she kissed me saying, “Good night, Matilda.”
The next day when I got home from school, on my pillow was the pink set. I only hesitated a little before putting them on as I changed out of my school clothes. When I found Mom and kissed her on the cheek, she somehow knew that it was Matilda giving her a kiss.
It took a little more than a week before I was back to normal, normal that is for Matilda. I was still a little sad because I could only be myself in the evenings and on the weekends when Dad had to work. At least I was able to do most of my own schoolwork. I had almost caught up with the rest of my class and my grades were starting to come back up.
It was the following weekend that everything started going crazy.
Dad must have noticed that I was happier and he must have been getting suspicious. One day while Rachael and I were putting together a puzzle Dad came into the family room.
“Matt!” Dad said as he entered the family room and sat in his recliner.
“Yes Dad”
“Are you wearing girl’s underwear again?”
“N — No D — Dad.”
“David, what makes you think that Matt’s wearing girls’ underwear?” Mom asked.
“Well, he was wearing them during the summer, and all summer he and Rachael were playing together and giggling all the time. They’re playing together and giggling again, so I’m just making sure that he isn’t starting to wear girl’s underwear again,” Dad explained.
“So now you’re telling me that Rachael and Matt can’t play together as brother and sister?” asked Mom.
“I didn’t say that, Edith. All I’m saying is that from time to time I’m going to check to make sure that Matt is not wearing girls’ underwear, starting right now. Matt, Strip.” Dad ordered
“But . . . Dad . . . Here?” I choked out.
“Yes here and now. Any time I tell you to strip, I expect you to strip. Now get with it.”
“But Dad . . .”
“David, at least take him to his room. Grant him a little dignity,” Mom said.
“Look, I’m already comfortable and don’t want to move. He can just take off his clothes and be quick about it.”
“David, what are Karen and Rachael supposed to do? Are they supposed to just sit here and watch you abuse their brother,” Mom asked.
“Well, if they don’t want to watch they can leave the room, and I'm not abusing anyone,” replied Dad.
"You don't call insisting that your ten year old son strip in public, abusive? What about the humiliation of being forced to disrobe before your own family, you don't consider that abusive?"
"More of your psycho double talk?" said Dad in a huff.
With that, Rachael and Karen got up and left, without saying a word.
“David, please be reasonable about this,” Mom said.
“I’m being reasonable, I’ll only tell him once or twice a week. Right now though, I’m only going to tell you one more time to get your clothes off or I’m going to do it for you, Matt, now!” Dad ordered.
“But Dad . . .”
“That's it, mister.” Dad almost flew out of his chair. He grabbed my arm so tight I thought it was going to pop. He tore off my shirt and T-shirt then undid my belt and pulled it out of the belt loops of my pants. After he pulled down my pants and briefs, he pulled me across his knee and whipped me with my own belt. Twenty strokes with the belt for disobedience, of course I was sobbing after the third one. When he was done, he dumped me on the floor, a naked ball of sobbing, mentally tormented misery.
Looking back, I’m certainly glad that I wasn’t wearing my nice underwear then, I’m sure things would have been much worse.
Through the entire exchange, Chuck sat and watched, dumbfounded by what was going on. My mother was crying, pleading with Dad to stop. After Dad was done with me, Rachael came back in carrying my bathrobe. She wrapped it around me then helped me to my room. I think she dressed me for bed and tucked me in, but really, I’m not sure.
Dad was true to his word. Once or twice a week, it didn’t matter where we were, living room, family room, dining room, but never in my bedroom, whenever he decided it was time, he’d order me to strip. As soon as the order was given Rachael always left the room, coming back later with my bathrobe.
If this kind of treatment from Dad wasn’t bad enough, somehow Black Bart had found out about Matilda. It was about a week after Dad started stripping me at home that Bart and his cronies caught me at recess, the first time. They dragged me to the far end of the baseball field, the farthest away from the building. Mary Beth and the rest of my friends tried to stop them, but they were no match for Bart and his accomplices. Mary Beth followed, while the rest went to find a teacher, hoping that they would be able to stop Bart. By the time they got a teacher out to where they had dragged me, I was naked, huddled into a ball and weeping. Mary Beth was collecting my clothes, which Bart had thrown over the back fence. The teacher was outraged that I was naked on school property. She wouldn’t listen to the girls when they tried to tell her that Black Bart had done it. Several days later, Bart and his gang grabbed me as Mary Beth and I were on our way to lunch. I’d given up screaming each time Bart grabbed me. Nobody seemed to care, except Mary Beth and a few other friends. Instead of taking me to the baseball field, they carried me out the East gate to a white van. The side door of the van slid open and I was thrown inside, the door was closed as the van started to move. Half an hour later, the van stopped, the door was opened and I was lifted out set down next to the school’s East gate. I was in almost exactly the same spot where I’d been half an hour before. I can't describe what happened while I was in the van. My mind has fortunately blocked those memories.
So this is what my life had evolved into. I was being stripped at home by Dad and at school by Bart. Don't forget about the twice a week visit of the strange men and the white van. I heard, through the grapevine, that Bart was making $200 each day that he made me available to them. All I can say is that my little bottom has never hurt so much in my entire life.
There didn’t seem to be any way to get any of them to stop torturing me. Nobody believed me when I told them what was happening to me, Oh my, that sort of thing couldn’t happen here, you have such an active imagination. At least I didn’t find anybody that would do anything to make it stop.
There was only one thing in my life that kept me together, only one tiny ray of hope that keeps me from going completely insane, my Mother, her love and understanding. Mom continued to smuggle underwear to me after school, and on the weekends, when Dad was at work. Those few hours each day were all that offered me any kind of relaxation from the stress of the rest of my life.
That’s how my miserable life was, from mid August until one horrible weekend in late October.
Because Dad’s working swing shift, I got a slight reprieve, at home anyway. This particular weekend he left at 11:30 Saturday morning and Mom brought me my lovely underwear. She let me wear them to bed, and then she came in and woke me at midnight to change, being that Dad would be home at 12:30. Sunday was the same, with one slight exception — Dad . . . came home early.
We were all in the family room when Dad suddenly walked in.
“David, what are you doing home so early?” asked Mom when she saw him.
“The boss suddenly switched me back to day shift. He didn’t want me tired all day Monday, so he told me to go home and get a good night’s rest,” Dad told us.
I tried to go to the bathroom without being noticed. I needed to change my underwear; unfortunately, I was unsuccessful in becoming invisible.
“Matt, where you going?” asked Dad, as he saw me trying to quietly walk away.
“I just need to go to the bathroom; I’ll be back in a minute.” I said, as if there were nothing amiss.
“Before you go, it’s been at least a week since I check on what you’re wearing. Take your clothes off, you can get dressed in the bathroom,” Dad said.
“But Dad, I really need to go bad,” I said. I was crossing my legs as if I needed to go, really, really, bad.
“Well then, hurry up and get your clothes off and you can go,” Dad said. He was starting to sound a little annoyed that I was talking back.
“Oh, David, let the boy go to the bathroom before he has an accident,” Mom implored.
“Matt, don’t just stand there, get your clothes off, NOW!”
“But Dad . . .”
“Do we have to go through this again? You take your clothes off, or I’ll do it for you.”
“David, stop this right now, there is no call for this kind of behavior,” Mom got up and was standing behind Dad.
“Dad . . . please . . . no”
“MATT! NOW!” Dad boomed.
“But . . . Dad . . .” I cried.
“That’s it,” was all Dad said before he charged. Mom tried to stop him, she tried to get between us, but he just pushed her out of the way.
He had the collar of my shirt and was about to start tearing when Mom got up and tried to push Dad away. Dad hit Mom so hard that she flew across the family room landing on the floor near the couch. Then Dad ripped off my shirt. Yes, I was wearing the pink set that day.
Dad exploded. First, he backhanded me, sending me across the room. Then he kicked me as I tried to scurry away. Then he finished ripping off my shirt, and then he slapped the other side of my head knocking me down. After he tore off my shorts he picked me up by one arm and shook me, all the while he was yelling at the top of his lungs.
“DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO NEVER WEAR GIRLS UNDERWEAR AGAIN? DIDN'T I? WOULD YOU LIKE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU ARE WEARING? I TELL YOU WHAT, MISTER, THIS IS THE LAST TIME YOU ARE EVER GOING TO DISOBEY ME. NOBODY DISOBEYS ME IN MY HOME, DO YOU HEAR ME. TOMORROW YOU ARE GOING TO THE “MARINE MILITARY ACADEMY” IN TEXAS. BY GOD, THEY'LL MAKE A MAN OUT OF YOU, YOU WHIMPERING LITTLE SISSY. THEY'LL MAKE A MAN OUT OF YOU EVEN IF IT KILLS YOU. “
After Dad was finished yelling he shredded the underwear that I had been wearing and stormed out of the house. When Dad was gone Karen and Chuck went to help Mom and Rachael came to help me, and, of course, she had my bathrobe with her. Rachael helped me to my bed where I cried and cried. About 11:00, Mom came in and tried to comfort me, I guess it helped a little. It was about 1:00 am; I hadn't stopped crying completely, as I lay on my bed thinking.
Oh, how my heart ached. I cried with no relief in sight, my tears just kept flowing down my cheeks, my pillow was sopping wet and still my tears flowed, I ached all over. As I looked at myself and saw the scratches and welts from Daddy’s beating, and ripping my clothes off. Blood still trickled from my nose and split lips, several of the scratches were deep and oozed blood as well. His fingernails had dug deep as he ripped away my clothes, the clothes I loved to wear, THEY WERE MATILDA’S CLOTHES!
‘This must be my fault. Dad has never hit Mommy before, but now he hit’s Mommy because she tries to help me, and to protect me. Dad has never been this mad at anyone else, but he’s sure mad this time, he must really hate me because I’m not the kind of son he wants me to be. Dad must hate me so much that he doesn’t even want me around anymore. I know what’s going to happen now. I’ll be sent to that military school, Dad will tell those people there about me. How I like to wear girls clothes. They won’t understand me. What am I going to do? The other students are going to tease me worse that Bart does, I’ll be beaten and bullied constantly. It’s just not fair, it’s not my fault, I’M NOT A BOY! I’M A GIRL TRAPPED INSIDE THIS BODY! I AM MATILDA!’
‘Sending me to the military school will cost a lot I'm sure. I wish that Mom could convince Dad to send me to the Manor instead. I guess that won't happen, Dad won't listen to Mom anymore and Dad wants them to make a man out of me.’
‘All I want is for Dad to understand and love me the same way he loves Karen and Rachael. I guess that’s never going to happen, Dads never going to change. I’m going to be tortured by all those boys. I will never have any peace. I will never be able to be the girl that I truly am. Things would have been better for everyone if I was never born. Dad wouldn’t be mad, he wouldn’t hit Mommy, and he would treat everyone better. There would be no more pain, no more suffering or sorrow. That would be so nice, no more pain, no more sorrow, no more torture, and no more being hated for being the person that I am. If I weren’t here, everything would be better.’
‘There is only one thing for me to do now, I can save my Mommy and those that love me. I can keep them from getting hurt, for I can never be the girl I am supposed to be, Daddy will see to that! He doesn’t love me, he doesn’t even want me around, Dad hates me! If I don’t do something now, he will go after my sisters next! Anyone who has helped me. He’ll need someone to blame, and I know he will blame everyone that loves me and everyone that I love. I can stop it from getting worse! No one else has to be hurt. I can protect Mommy, and my sisters and my friends. I’ll have to do it right now though, tonight. Tomorrow will be too late. Tomorrow Dad will send me away. I can either be tortured for the rest of my life, or I can stop it, here and now. The only question is just how to do it? I've had enough pain; I can't do anything that would hurt. I wish I could just go to sleep and not wake up, just go to sleep and everything will be over, just go to sleep and be free. Sleep, a never-ending sleep! That’s it, Mommy’s sleeping pills. The only way I’ll do this is if I go to sleep as Matilda, because I don't want to be Matt any more, that way I can be Matilda forever. If I'm going to be Matilda, I'll be my Mother's daughter, as I don't want to be my Father's son anymore, I don't even want Daddy's name anymore.’
‘So here's what I'll do, first, I have to clean up, get rid of all this blood. I’ll take a nice bubble bath. I’ll get dressed in my party dress and take some of the sleeping pills that the doctor gave Mom. I’d better leave a note for Mom so she won’t cry too much. That’s it! I’ll get my dress, wig and makeup from Rachael, and then I’ll take a nice bubble bath. I’ll get dressed, do my makeup, put on my wig and then, write a note, take the pills and finally go to sleep. I won't hurt anymore, and everybody’s problems will be over. All I have to do is go to sleep and everybody’s problems will go to sleep with me.
Well, I will say goodbye now, as I won't be writing any more about my life, as you can see it's about to end. If you're someone’s Mommy, and you discover that they are different, remember it’s okay to be different. Show them love and kindness, help them discover their true inner self. There's no greater joy than helping other people, and giving of yourself, to make another’s life better.
If you're a Daddy, remember that everyone is unique, and everyone is special. Love your children for who they are inside, and who they want to be. Don't try to make them into something you want, but help them discover who they want to be.
Matilda Rachael McNeil
Matilda quietly went into Rachael’s room to get her things. Then she took a nice long bubble bath. Matilda, dressed in some of Rachael's underwear, her own beautiful party dress, carefully applied her makeup, her wig and everything else was perfect. It was about 5:00 when Matilda had finished her preparations; it had taken several tries to get her note just right. One last brush through her hair, smooth out her dress as she lay down to go to sleep. The last things she did before laying down was to take four of Mommy’s pills. She looked so peaceful, a slight smile on her swollen and broken face. She had applied her lipstick thick, as it needed to cover her split and swollen lips. She’d used extra blush to cover her puffy and swollen cheeks. Her long lashes were closed, melded together as one, her eyes now swollen closed. If you could look closer, you’d notice the deep scratches on her arms and neck, her attempt at covering them with make-up obvious. If it weren't for those flaws in her appearance, you'd have thought there was an angel lying on what had once been Matt’s bed, a note carefully tucked, under one corner of her pillow.
Authors note
Before anyone starts screaming that I've portrayed the US Marine Corps in a negative manner, please calm down. It is not my intent to discredit the US Marine Corps. I have nothing but respect for those brave men and women who give of themselves, to take up arms in defense of their country and the freedom that we all enjoy. At this time, two of my children are serving in the US Marine Corps. For the sake of this story I picked an ex-marine, I could have used someone from any branch of the military; it just seemed to flow better with a marine.
For anyone offended by this I sincerely apologize. Please remember, this is a work of fiction, any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.
[email protected]
Notes:
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 10
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Themes:
Permission:
by putting together pieces of the puzzle, from those who care about her.
It’s time to say goodbye to Ogre Daddy.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W and Holly Hart
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 10
Warning : Get out a box of tissues before reading this chapter,
thanks, Penny
“Mom I can’t get Matilda to wake up and her door is locked!” a concerned Rachael, told her Mother.
“Rachael, don’t you mean Matt? And his door is locked,” asked Edith sadly, almost in tears, as she remembered the events of the last eight weeks, and especially the previous evening.
“Well I’m not sure who is in the bedroom across from mine. You see late last night, well, actually, I guess it was somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 this morning, Matilda quietly came into my room and woke me up. She was very careful not to wake Karen. She wanted to borrow some of my underwear. She also wanted the blue satin dress that she wore to Mary Beth’s birthday party, along with her wig and makeup. I didn’t know what was going on, I was half-asleep. I just gave her what ever she wanted so I could go back to bed. Anyway, that’s why I think that Matilda in the room across from mine. As I said, the door is locked and she won’t answer,” explained Rachael, as she related the events that took place through the night. Rachael was also crying, also remembering the events of the last eight weeks, and what her Father had done to Matilda the night before.
Edith ran to Matilda’s bedroom door and knocked but there was no response. Edith pounded on the door with her fists but there was still no response. Edith; now filled with fear, concern, a Mother’s love and a sudden surge of adrenaline, stepped back and put the full weight of her small self into a single kick to the door, just below the doorknob. Having the desired effect, the hollow core door splintered, as did the doorframe. Edith pushed the remnants of the door open.
Before Edith’s tearful eyes, lying on her neatly made bed lay ten-year-old Matilda. Matilda looked as spectacularly gorgeous as she had on that day ten weeks ago in Amanda Reynolds’s salon, “Matilda’s Birthday” as they had called it. Her wig was in place and each hair had been neatly combed into place. Her makeup had been applied perfectly. Matilda had learned well, and in a couple of short weeks had become very proficient. She had almost completely hidden the new bruises and split lip that her Father had given her the night before. Her blue satin dress was flared and smoothed out perfectly. Her fingers were interlaced across her chest, her eyes were closed, and there was a note carefully tucked, under one corner of her pillow.
“RACHAEL, CALL 911. TELL THEM TO GET AN AMBULANCE HERE. TELL THEM NOW!” screamed Edith, as she rushed to Matilda’s side. Although her color was still good, Matilda’s breathing was very shallow. Edith was crying as she knelt by her daughters’ bed. She picked up the note and read it through tear-filled eyes.
Dear Dad
I’m sorry that I am such an embarrassment to you. I just can’t be the kind of son you want, as I should never have been born male. I've tried to be what you wanted, but I just can’t. I have to be what’s right for me, but you won’t let me. I can no longer deal with your hatred, ignorance, prejudice, your physical abuse, along with being treated like a failure, by you. I have tried to explain to you how I have been abused and tortured by the kids at school, but you don’t seem to care about me. If Karen or Rachael had been tortured at school, as I have been, you'd have rushed to the defense of your daughter. Just because it happened to me, you did nothing. You just don’t care about me. I would not survive the harassment and torture that the Military Academy you plan to send me to would bring. The only answer for me is to not, exist. I hope you can live with the embarrassment of knowing that you caused me to take my own life.
Your DAUGHTER Matilda
My Dear Mother
I know how much pain this will cause you and for that, I am truly sorry. I want you to know how much I love you. I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for me. You have been my loving guide and mentor through my short life. You have always been there to help, guide, protect, and support me. You saw things in me that no one else could see, and for that, I will be forever grateful. Through your love, you helped me to discover the better parts of myself. Always remember that the happiest moments of my short and miserable life were when you and I were together. The special afternoons that we spent together before I started school, and those two glorious weeks that we spent together while you were patiently teaching me the things I needed to know to be your loving daughter.
Mother, we've been taught in church that in the life after this we will have a perfect body. I know that there, I will truly be your daughter. Mother, I’ll be waiting for you there. There I will finally be free of the pain and torment that I suffer from, here.
Mother; take a picture of me before they take my body away. Then you'll have something to remember me by, as your daughter, Matilda. I love you now and will for all the eternities to come.
Mother, my dying wish is to be buried as your daughter taking your maiden name as my own, and the name of my dear sister Rachael for my middle name.
Your loving daughter
Matilda
As Edith had finished reading the note left by her dying daughter, Rachael came running into the room.
“The ambulance is on its way Mom. H — How’s Matilda?” asked Rachael.
“She’s still alive, for now. Rachael, go and get me a camera,” replied Edith, through broken sobs.
“A camera, what camera?” asked Rachael.
“Any camera, every camera you can find in the house, quickly,” pleaded Edith.
Edith unlaced Matilda’s fingers and took her hand into her own. “Oh, Matilda, I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. Please forgive me for not being there for you when you needed me. Please wake up, Dear. You don’t have to do this Matilda. I won’t let your Father ever hurt you again. Oh, please wake up . . .” Edith choked out words of love and praise as she tried, in a vain attempt to get Matilda to wake up.
A few minutes later Rachael returned with three cameras, two small 35mm disposable cameras and her Father's new digital camera. Edith started taking pictures of her daughter from every angle and distance, from across the room and close-up. She used all the remaining film the two disposable cameras then started with the digital.
“Rachael, go to the front door and wait for the paramedics,” Edith told her sobbing daughter.
Edith then took as many pictures as she could. It seemed like hours before the paramedics and the ambulance arrived.
The paramedic squad pulled up in front of the house just as Rachael arrived at the front door and opened it. The Ambulance pulled up 30 seconds later. Both teams got their equipment and rushed into the house. Rachael led them to Matilda’s bedroom where her mother was kneeling next to Matilda’s bed, crying. The paramedics gently moved Edith, so they could check out Matilda.
“She’s alive,” one said to the other. “Pulse is weak and her breathing is shallow. Let’s move her, now!”
They put a sensor clip on Matilda’s finger to monitor her pulse and oxygen level, then put a mask over her mouth and nose to feed her oxygen. Then they moved her onto a gurney and took her to the waiting ambulance.
“Where are you taking Matilda?” Edith managed to ask.
“Primary Children’s Emergency, Ma’am,” one of the paramedics said, just before the ambulance pulled away, followed quickly by the paramedic squad.
“Rachael, get my purse please. We’re going,” Edith said, as she was trying to dry her eyes.
Before Edith and Rachael left for the hospital, Edith made two phone calls. “Jill Morgan, please,” Edith said, when the phone was answered.
“I’m sorry she is in with a client . . .,” the receptionist was saying.
“This is Edith Covington, Matilda has just tried to kill herself,” Edith cut in.
“One Moment.”
“Hello, this is Jill Morgan.”
“Jill, this is Edith. Matilda is en route to Primary Children’s. Can you meet us there?”
"Edith, what's happened?"
"Oh, Jill, she tried to kill herself," Edith managed to say as she started sobbing again.
“I’m on my way, Edith,” Jill replied as she quickly hung up.
As Edith hung up the phone, she had to pause for a few minutes. Once she had calmed down and dried her eyes, she dialed a second number.
“Hello, this is Ellen Hansen,” Edith heard as the phone was answered.
“Ellen, this is Edith Covington. Matilda has tried to kill herself . . .” Edith started to say
“Oh, dear God, no! Edith, how can I help?” asked Ellen.
“Jill is on her way to Primary Children’s now. According to the note left by Matilda, this is David’s fault. Ellen, I need to talk to a lawyer, today. I need to know what my legal options are. I have to find a way to keep David away from me, and the kids.”
“I will have my lawyer meet you at the hospital if possible,” Ellen replied, “And I will see you there myself in a little while.”
When Edith and Rachael arrived at the hospital, they rushed into Emergency, and to the receptionist.
“I’m Edith Covington. My daughter Matilda was just brought in. She tried to kill herself.”
“Oh yes, the suicide;” the receptionist said rather coldly, handing Edith a clipboard. “I’ll need these forms filled out.”
Edith quickly filled out the forms and returned them to the receptionist who started to enter the data into the computer system.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Covington but you said that your daughter was brought in?” she asked.
“Yes, I did,” replied Edith.
“On the paper work you have checked male, with the name of Matthias?” she questioned.
“That is also correct,” replied Edith.
“Could you explain that please?” the receptionist asked.
“Certainly, my daughter has Gender Dysphoria,” Edith said.
The receptionist looked at her with dead lifeless eyes, like a dolls eyes, that said in essence ‘dahh what are you talking about.’
“For the record, and for insurance purposes, her gender is male, and her name is Matthias. But in her heart, in her mind, and in her soul, she is female and her name is Matilda,” Edith was explaining as Jill walked up behind her. “Hi Jill, I'm glad you could get here so fast. This is Matilda’s psychiatrist, Jill Morgan,” Edith told the receptionist. “She'll explain everything to you. In the meantime could you have someone take me in to see my daughter?”
“Of course, ma’am,” came the almost lifeless reply as the receptionist pressed a call button.
“Jill, could you look after Rachael while I am in with Matilda? Oh, here is the note that Matilda left,” Edith pulled Matilda’s note out of her purse, giving it to her dear friend.
“Of course Edith, I’ll take care of everything,” Jill replied, taking Matilda’s note from Edith as she left.
Edith was led back into the emergency treatment area and into a room where several people were working on Matilda. Edith noticed that they had removed her gown, underwear, and wig. There were IV’s in both her arms and a respiratory mask over her mouth and nose.
“How is my daughter?” Edith asked loud enough for all to hear, as she didn’t know who was in charge.
“Ah, ma’am, you must be in the wrong room . . .” one of the nurses started to say.
“No I don’t think so; I would recognize Matilda no matter how she was dressed, or in this case undressed. So how is she? And by the way, where are her clothes and wig?” asked Edith, sounding like she was about to lose it.
“Ma’am, this boy did come in wearing girl’s clothes and a wig. Could you please explain . . .,” the nurse was saying.
“Everybody please listen carefully, because I am getting tired of explaining this. My daughter has ‘Gender Dysphoria.’ That means that although she was born in a male body, she has the mind of a girl. On the records, the name is Matthias, but I would appreciate if everyone would refer to her as Matilda. Now HOW IS MY DAUGHTER?” Edith asked a second time. Her volume telling everyone that she’s obviously getting tired of explaining this to everyone.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am I didn’t understand. Matilda was it?” Edith nodded and the nurse continued. “Matilda is just holding her own. We’ve pumped her stomach. Not knowing what she may have taken we didn’t dare introduce a counteragent. We are running an IV solution, and have her on oxygen to keep her blood oxygen level up. Do you have any idea what she might have taken?” The nurse explained and asked.
Edith finally pulled herself away from Matilda and went back out to the waiting room to talk with Jill and Rachael. To her surprise, Ellen Hansen was also there.
“Matilda hasn’t regained consciousness yet. They aren’t sure what she took, how much or when. Right now, her condition is stable, but they say it can still go either way. The next twelve to twenty-four hours will be critical. They will be moving her up to the Intensive Care Unit within an hour or two.” Edith said, as she recited the dry facts. She was afraid to say anything else for fear that she would start crying again, as she had been doing most of the time that she had been in with Matilda.
“Oh, Edith, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that things were so bad for you and Matilda. Why didn’t you call one of us?” Ellen softly asked as she gave Edith a hug.
“Oh, Ellen, it’s okay. No one knew. Someone told David about Matilda a couple of days after Mary Beth’s birthday party. He stormed into Matilda’s room and pried open the locked dresser drawer where we kept her nightgowns and underwear. He yelled so loud that the neighbor’s four houses away heard him.” Edith was telling Ellen and Jill what had happened eight weeks ago, as Ellen moved her over to a chair so she could sit down.
“David was in a rage. I tried to explain about Matilda's condition, but he just wouldn't listen. Then he demanded to know if Matt was wearing any girls underwear right then, of course she was. Matilda always changed when she got home from school, as she never wore girls underwear to school. Wearing feminine underwear was the only way she was happy. David made her take off her pants and shirt to show him. Oh, then he just reached over and ripped her underwear off her. He shredded the underwear she had on; he then took all of Matilda's underwear and nighties out to the garbage can and burned them.” Edith was sobbing as she remembered the horror of the scene she was describing and couldn’t continue.
“Later that night I went into Matilda’s room,” Rachael continued for her. She spoke each word carefully and slowly so she could get them out without breaking down completely as her Mother had done. “She was still sobbing, still naked in the middle of her bedroom floor where she had fallen after Dad stripped her. She had been so upset she'd wet herself. I took a blanket off her bed and wrapped her in it. Then I helped her onto her bed. I lay down next to her and just held her until she fell asleep. It was about two weeks before Matilda was able to stand, walk, and talk well enough to go back to school as Matt.”
“Why didn’t someone call me?” asked Jill.
“Mom tried to call you that night, but Dad wouldn’t let her. He told her that Matt was never to see that quack shrink again. He said that if any of us told anyone, he would know, and that there would be hell to pay. Matt's tenth birthday was completely ignored by Dad. He wouldn't let any of the family do anything for Matt's birthday either. Matt was just starting to feel better when things at home got crazy. Dad would strip Matt several times a week to make sure he wasn’t wearing girls underwear. Dad didn’t even bother to do it in private. It didn’t matter, to Dad, where Matt was or what he was doing. When Dad decided it was time, he would just order Matt to strip. If Matt refused, Dad would rip his clothes off, beating him for disobedience and leaving him in tattered rags. Having Matt stripped and naked in the family room became almost commonplace.
“Matt told me once; he thought he should just go around naked at home, just to save Dad the trouble. Dad would search Matt’s room at least once a week. If Dad happened to be home for dinner, Matt would stay in his room and not eat. He’s probably lost 20lbs over the last eight weeks. Matt was also having problems at school, with Black Bart and some of the other kids. Somehow, they heard about Matilda. Bart and his cronies would strip Matt at school at least twice a week, sometimes in the boys’ restroom, but usually out on the baseball field. Mary Beth started always wearing a long coat whenever they were outside, even if it was hot out. That way she would have something to wrap around Matt when they were done with him, and would leave him in huddled in a ball, crying. I even heard rumors that some of the older boys would drag Matt down to the boiler room and that those boys would . . . well I don’t know for sure what they did. All I know for sure was that Matt’s grades went from straight A’s to almost straight F’s in about two weeks, which made Dad treat him even worse. I don’t think Mom knew anything that has happened to Matt at school. I know that I don’t know everything. I have tried to get Matt to talk to me but he wouldn’t.”
Ellen and Jill were speechless as they listened to Rachael’s horrific tale. They now knew what had led up to Matilda’s suicide attempt.
Edith, barely aware of her surroundings, hadn’t stopped sobbing as Rachael told the story.
“Edith,” Ellen finally said, as she had an arm wrapped around her. “There is no way you are going back to that house. All three of you are coming to live at ‘Immigration Manor’. I'll not allow this to continue.”
“But R — Rachael is t — too young to be ac — accepted at your s — school,” Edith managed to say between sobs.
“I also told you that there were from time to time special exceptions. I think this qualifies as a special exception,” Ellen told her gently. “Edith, the job offer is still there. I know that it will take you some time to get back up to speed. Of course, you’ll have to retake some classes before you can restart the Doctorate program. But you can work at the school while you are going to the University.”
“Edith,” Ellen said suddenly, after she was struck by the realization of what Edith had just told her. “You didn’t say anything to Jill or me, because you didn’t think you had any options, right?”
Edith, still crying could only nod her head.
“Well that stops here and now. We told you and Matilda that you had lots of friends that would help you and we are going to prove it. Now you dry your eyes! We have plans to make,” said Ellen, as she handed Edith another box of tissues.
“W — What do you m — mean p — plans to make?” Edith asked as she was trying to control her crying.
“First of all, no one is to ever use the name Matt when referring to Matilda ever again, and I do mean never. Is that understood?” said Ellen to Edith, Jill and Rachael as she took charge of the situation.
“Great. Now who else knows about Matilda, that Matilda knows and trusts?” Ellen asked.
“The only one I know of is Mrs. Reynolds. Oh, wait a second, there is Mary Beth. She really loves Matilda and would do anything for her. Mary Beth and Matilda have been friends since they started school together,” said Rachael. “Oh, but I don’t think we can trust Mary Beth’s Father. I think he is the one who told Dad about Matilda going shopping and at the birthday party.”
“Ok, Mary Beth is out, but we need more help here at the hospital, so I will call Amanda. I am sure she will want to help,” said Ellen, confidently.
Rachael interrupted Ellen, "I just remembered there's someone else that Matilda knows and trusts. Beca, from . . . Well I can't say where she's from, because I'm not supposed to talk about it. But Matilda referred to her as her Big Sister."
"That's okay Rachael; you can talk about the Manor in front of Jill. You've done a very good job of helping both your Mother and Matilda this morning," Ellen said, giving Rachael a hug. “The next thing is that Matilda is never to be left alone. From now on, one of us is to be with her around the clock. I'll work up a schedule to include the four of us, Beca, Liz and Amanda. When Matilda wakes up, I want someone that she knows and trusts to be with her, agreed?” asked Ellen. Everyone nodded their consent.
“Very well, I will also arrange for a special cell phone with a panic button on it. Whoever is sitting with Matilda will keep it with them. If anyone comes near Matilda without our consent, or anyone who might be a threat, you push one button and help will be there in seconds.” Edith’s crying had almost stopped at this point as she began to realize that there were options for her and her daughters that she hadn’t realized.
“Okay, next on the agenda is to get Edith’s, Matilda’s, and Rachael’s belongings moved out of David’s house and up to the Manor.” Ellen continued. “Jill, can you stay with Matilda while I go help Edith and Rachael?”
“I would be happy to sit with Matilda for a while. I will just have to call my office and have Barbara reschedule some appointments,” answered Jill.
“Oh, Ellen, what am I going to do with Karen and Charles? I can’t leave them there alone with David. He’s going to be very anger when he discovers that Matilda, Rachael and I are gone,” asked Edith.
“Edith, are there some relatives or friends that will take them in for a few days? By then we should have this situation resolved and you should be able to return home.”
“Ellen, what do you mean, situation resolved?” asked Edith.
“Edith please, I’ve only been working on this for ten minutes. I’ll need a little more time to work out all the details,” Ellen said with a smile.
“Well, when we are at the house, I’ll see what I can work out for Karen and Charles. We don’t have any relatives in town, but maybe some of their friend’s parents would be able to help out for a few days,” said Edith
“We’ll just have to allow some extra time for that,” said Ellen.
“Oh, one other thing, the bruises, Rachael you said that your Father would hit Matilda when he was mad. Were there bruises other that the ones on her face from last night?” asked Ellen.
“Umm probably, Dad threw him, umm I mean her around a couple of times. There might be some bruises on her back and legs,” Rachael replied.
“Thank you Rachael. Jill when they move Matilda up to the ICU arrange for the staff to get a police photographer in here to take pictures. Make sure that Matilda's wig is on and Jill, make sure that her penis is not photographed. We are going to need evidence and we don’t want the source of that evidence being challenged in court,” said Ellen coldly, Jill nodded her agreement.
“All right, it’s almost 12:00, now so we'd better get you two back to the house and get your things packed. I will meet you there after I make one stop; I need to arrange with hospital security for the cell phone. Jill, I will have them bring it up to you when it’s ready, and we will check in with you in a couple of hours. Will that be all right?” Ellen turned first to Edith and Rachael and then to Jill. All agreed and they then broke up and went where they needed to go.
As an afterthought, Ellen stopped Edith as she was about to leave. “Oh Edith, do you have a cell phone?” Ellen asked.
“No, I don’t,” replied Edith. Ellen reached into her bag and pulled out a phone, handing it to Edith.
“This is my back-up phone. My regular cell number is on speed dial. Just press 9 then the “Talk” key and it will dial me. If you have any trouble at all, you call me, okay?”
“Oh, thank you, Ellen. You don’t know what a relief it is to discover that you have friends, and what having true friends really mean,” Edith gave Ellen a hug. Taking the phone, she put it in her purse. Taking Rachael’s hand, they left for home.
As Edith and Rachael were approaching their home, Edith saw that David’s red Chevy Suburban was in the driveway. She kept driving as she reached into her purse for Ellen’s cell phone.
“Mom, you just passed our house,” Rachael said.
“I know, Dear. We didn’t stop because your father is home. We're not going in there alone, not with him there.” Edith explained as she dialed Ellen. Driving around the block, she parked on the next street over, in the only spot where she could look through the neighbors’ back yard and see David’s Suburban in the driveway.
“Yes, Edith, what’s up,” Ellen asked, as she answered.
“Ellen, David’s home! We pulled around the block. I don’t think he saw us,” Edith said, her voice cracking just a little.
“You did the right thing. You sit tight and don’t leave your car. I will be there in fifteen minutes. This changes things just a bit, I think we should take the opportunity to put plan B into effect. I’ll call you back when I get closer,” Ellen told her as she hung up.
“I wonder what plan B is?” Edith said aloud, not really asking the question, just wondering. Both Edith and Rachael looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.
About eighteen minutes later the phone rang and Edith answered, “Hello.”
“Edith, its Ellen. I am in front of your house on the opposite side of the street. Wait about eight more minutes and then drive around and park in front of your house. Don’t get out of your car until I come and get you, all right?” Ellen said reassuringly.
“But Ellen, you don’t know David. He has gotten crazy the last few weeks,” Edith said, she couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice.
“It’s all right Edith. I've taken care of everything. In about 10 minutes, two police cars will be pulling up behind your car. They will be going in just after us,” Ellen said, reassuring Edith that nothing was going to happen.
“Umm, Ellen, just what kind of strings did you pull to arrange that?” Edith asked.
“You told me that David is an ex-marine. Police policy requires at least four officers are present to make an arrest of former military personnel. Don’t worry about what kind of strings I can pull. We will talk about everything later. You need to move in about six minutes. See you in a few,” Ellen said as she hung up again.
Edith looked over at Rachael and smiled, “Its looks like we are in good hands now. Even Better than AllState.” Edith and Rachael both chuckled at the joke she had just made. “Times like this and I can crack jokes, things must be looking up.”
The minutes slowly ticked by. Waiting for the unknown to happen, can make the passage of time seem immeasurably slow.
“Well, it’s time to go to the house. Remember Rachael; don’t get out of the car until Ellen comes to get us.”
“Yes, Mom,” Rachael replied.
Edith slowly drove around the block, taking as much time as she could. She parked against the curb just short of the driveway. There she and Rachael waited. About three minutes later the first squad car pulled up behind Edith’s car. Two minutes later the second car pulled up and blocked the driveway. Then Ellen got out of her 15-passenger van and approached the first police car that had arrived, where she talked with the officers for about three minutes.
After that, she came over to Edith’s car. “There’s been a slight change in plans,” Ellen said. “There is a third car around the block in case he tries to run. We will go in, with two officers waiting on the porch. I want the privilege of telling him that he’s nailed down his own coffin.”
Edith and Rachael, along with two officers followed Ellen across the grass and up to the front door.
“Rachael,” Ellen said, “When we get inside, I want you to stay by the front door. If your Father gets violent, you open the door. If I look at you and nod my head, you open the door. Your opening the door is the officers’ cue to come in. Do you understand?”
“That sounds easy enough,” said Rachael.
“Ma’am, that’s not according to procedure,” one of the officers said.
“Jeff, do you know who she is?” asked the second officer.
“No, but what does that have to do with it?” asked Jeff.
“I’ll explain it to you later. Waiting for the door to open will be no problem, Ellen.”
When they got to the front door, Edith opened the door and went in, followed by Rachael who stepped aside. Ellen entered a few seconds later.
“Where have you been, and where is my new digital camera?” David asked gruffly when he saw Edith. “Who’s that?” he added when he saw Ellen enter.
“David Covington? I’m Ellen Hansen. Edith called me this morning after Matilda was taken to the hospital,” Ellen started
“OH BROTHER, not that Matilda crap again. His name is Matt, and I’m putting an end to this Matilda shit once and for all. Tonight I’m putting him on a plane and sending him to the Marine Military Academy in Texas. They’ll make a man out of that whimpering little sissy,” David bellowed.
“I don’t think Matilda would like a military academy, and besides, I don’t think her doctor will let her out of the hospital to make the trip,” said Ellen.
“What’s Matt doing in a hospital?” David asked.
“NO DAVID! NOT MATT! MATILDA! Matilda is in the hospital. She tried to commit suicide this morning. YOU KILLED MATT, last night when you knocked him around,” Edith yelled.
David was shocked by what Edith had just said, and the way she’d said it. She’d never stood up to him before.
“You’re an ex-Marine. A Sergeant, as I understand it?” Ellen asked.
“That’s right. So what!” David huffed.
“Well, for your information, Sergeant, I’m Captain Ellen Hansen, Naval Intelligence. I know everything about you.”
“Like what? Edith, who is this dumb broad?” David moaned.
“Like I said,” continued Ellen, “I know everything about you. According to a friend of mine, Gunnery Sergeant C. A. MacGyver, you were given a choice, voluntarily leave the corps or face a court marshal and a dishonorable discharge. Your service record makes interesting reading, I'm surprised that they let you stay in as long as they did. Currently you work for McDonald Douglas security day shift. Your best friend is Craig Phelps, which would be Mary Beth's Father. He also works for McDonald Douglas, also in security, he works graveyard as I understand.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” David said, starting to sound a little nervous.
“I also know that you beat your wife and you have repeatedly sexually and physically abused your daughter Matilda. I have been in contact with the District Attorney. There are two officers outside your front door with an arrest warrant. You are being charged with six counts of Sexual Assault of a Minor, four counts of Physical Abuse of a Minor, Reckless Endangerment, Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor, and I think the DA was adding on a couple of others that I don’t know about yet. He told me that he was trying for a life sentence without parole, but would settle for 15 to 30.” Ellen said all this with an evil grin.
“You’re crazy! You’ve got nothing on me, and a wife can’t testify against her husband and nobody else will either.” David said, glaring at Rachael.
“You are correct that a wife can’t be compelled to testify against her husband. However, an ex-wife can testify freely, and before your case comes to trial, we should have Edith’s divorce completed. Oh, I know that it normally takes six months to a year, but you see, this situation isn’t exactly normal, is it? By the way, because you’ll be going to prison, she gets everything. And as for nobody else being willing to testify against you, well, you’d better think again,” said Ellen as she looked at Rachael and nodded.
Rachael smiled from ear to ear, nodded to Ellen, then opened the front door and stepped aside. In rushed not two, but four officers. Two of them had their weapons drawn and they were instantly pointed at David.
“David Covington?” One of the officers said. “You are under arrest for the physical and sexual abuse of Matilda Covington. Get down on your knees, put your hands on your head, palms up and interlock your fingers,” he ordered.
Facing four officers, two with their weapons drawn and pointed at him, and the other two ready to draw their weapons, David didn’t have much of a choice. From the look on his face, his first thought was to run, followed by rage - he definitely wanted to kill something, or someone. Reluctantly he dropped to his knees and put his hands on his head as ordered. As one of the officers put handcuffs on him, another one read him his rights. As a precautionary measure, his ankles were also shackled to prevent him from running if he did manage to get away. David was then helped to his feet and searched for weapons. The officers were surprised to find not one, but two small caliber pistols, as well as several folding pocketknives.
As two officers were escorting David out, Ellen stopped them. "He probably has some keys in one of his pockets. The keys to this house as well as that Red Suburban in the driveway, I don’t think he will need them where he is going. I think Edith here would make better use of them than an envelope in the property room,” said Ellen.
“No Ma’am, I don’t think he’ll be needing them,” agreed one of the officers. He found the keys and handed them to Edith.
“Enjoy yourself David. I understand that the inmates down at ‘Point of the Mountain’ take special care of big tough men who sexually abuse little children,” Ellen chuckled as she said this.
At that, the officers snickered as they took David out to one of the squad cars. And then, he was gone.
“Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it?” Ellen was asking a rhetorical question.
“Ellen. You’re with Naval Intelligence?” Edith asked.
“No, I’m not. I just said that to confuse him a little and help keep things under control. You see, if he thought I was an officer, his military conditioning would kick in. Even though he isn’t active, he would have to do some serious thinking before he would be able to attack an officer. That bought us the time we needed,” Ellen said. “Well, with David gone, you won't have to move to the Manor. Actually, Edith, this is a nice house and neighborhood. You should keep it. You do have other children to think about.”
“Yes I do. Speaking of them, its 2:00 and they should be getting home from school soon. I’m not quite sure what I am going to tell them,” said Edith.
“Well I find that the truth is usually the best place to start. Seeing that little Rachael here already knows more than she should,” Ellen smiled, as she patted Rachael’s head. “Why don’t I take her back up to the hospital? She can sit with Matilda for a while and we can let Jill go home. When . . . oh, just a second, let me think. Oh yes, its Charles and Karen. When they get home, you can have a chat with them. Take them up to see Matilda after dinner. By then Rachael should be bored stiff, so I’ll take over sitting with Matilda for the rest of tonight. You come up in the morning as soon as you get the kids off to school,” Ellen suggested.
“Oh please Mommy, pleases? Please say yes. I want to go be with Matilda, please.” Rachael said while jumping up and down.
“Oh all right, settle down. You know you can’t act that way while you’re at the hospital, don’t you?” Edith said, Rachael just nodded and grinned. “That sounds like a great idea Ellen. Ellen I don’t know how to thank you for every thing that you’ve done, both for us here and now and for what you are doing for Matilda,” Edith said.
“Edith I just do what I can, nothing special. Well now, Rachael, are you ready.”
“Just a second, I need to get a book or two.” Rachael said as she disappeared. When she came back, she was hugging two books in front of her.
“What do you have there?” asked Edith.
“These are books for me to read to Matilda, Mary Poppins, and Pollyanna. Their two of Matilda’s favorites,” Rachael said smiling broadly. "Along with Sherlock Holmes, but I'm having a hard time reading that one."
“All right little one, let’s get going,” said Ellen, as she bundled Rachael out to her van.
“Mrs. Hansen why do you drive such a large van?” asked Rachael.
“I do work at large school,” said Ellen, chuckling as they crossed the street.
Edith smiled as she waved goodbye and then closed the front door. With Ellen and Rachael gone, Edith was alone to collect her thoughts and prepare for Karen and Charles. As Edith was trying to work out in her mind just what to say to them, someone knocked on her front door. She thought it odd that someone would knock, instead of using the doorbell. If she hadn't been in the living room, she wouldn't have heard the knock at all. It was such a gentle knock like that of a small child or . . .
Edith’s thoughts were interrupted as she opened the door. Huddled in a ball on her front porch, just to the side of the door, she found a young girl. She was crying out of control, her hair was a mess with sticks, grass, and leaves in it, and her clothes were torn. Edith couldn't see the child’s face because of the way she sat, knees up, arms around her knees, and head down hiding her face.
Edith knelt down to comfort this child, as she did she lifted her chin, hoping to discover her identity. To Edith’s horror, the bruised and tattered crying child on her front porch . . . was Mary Beth.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 11
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
What’s to become of poor Matilda?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Hart
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 11
Edith quickly scooped Mary Beth up and took her inside. After attending to her bleeding nose, Edith made a more complete assessment of Mary Beth's condition. One sleeve of her blouse was missing and the other was about to come off, along with missing several buttons. Her skirt had been torn in several places along the hem, there was also a large corner shaped tear in the back exposing a fare amount of her light blue panties, which, thankfully, appeared to be intact.
"Oh dear, Mary Beth, what happened?"
All Mary Beth could do was cry, as Edith held the distraught child on her lap.
"I'd better call your Mother," Edith thought aloud, as she reached for the phone on the end table next to the couch.
That got a reaction from Mary Beth. "NO, no,” she cried, sobbing and shaking her head, “D - Don't c - call M - Mommy! M — Mommy’s m - mad at m - me about M - Matilda."
"Mary Beth! Did your Mother do this to you?" Edith asked in shock, afraid of what the answer might be.
"N - No! B - Bart! He was mad b - because M — Matt was not at school. M - Mommy's mad at me b - because I w - won't stay away f - from Matt. M - Mommy w - won't care that I g - got b - beat up b - because I'm M - Matt's friend. T - That's why I c - came h - here."
"Well I have to call someone," Edith said. "You need medical attention."
Edith knew who she needed to call, someone with connections who could get things done quietly. She reached for her purse and pulled out Ellen's cell phone.
"Yes Edith, what's the problem?" Ellen asked as she answered.
"Ellen, exactly where are you right now, and … where is Rachael?"
"Rachael is with Matilda. The hospital wouldn't let her stay un-supervised so I arranged for Beca and Liz to stay with her. I've just left the hospital, and I'm heading back to the Manor. Why?" Ellen sounded concerned.
"How long would it take you to get back here?" Edith tried not to sound desperate.
"About ten minutes, if I turned around right now," the concern in Ellen’s voice was now plain.
"Ellen, I've got a problem here that I'm not sure how to handle." said Edith.
"Edith! What's happened?"
"Oh Ellen! It's Mary Beth. She just showed up on my doorstep. Ellen, she's been attacked. She refuses to let me call her Mother, something about being mad about Matilda. Ellen, she needs better care than I'm qualified to give her. She should probably be seen by a doctor, just to make sure there aren't additionally injuries."
"I'm on my way Edith; I'll be there as soon as possible."
"Thanks Ellen. I wasn't sure who else to call."
"You did the right thing Edith. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Thank you, Ellen."
Just as Edith and Ellen shut down their respective phones, Karen came through the front door. "Mom, why is there blood on the front porch?" she called out, before she was even in the house.
It was only after Karen had closed the door that she saw her Mother on the couch with a strange child on her lap. Rushing over, she was shocked at what she saw, "Oh, Mom, that's Mary Beth! What’s happened?"
"All I've gotten from her, that I've been able to understand, is that she doesn't want me to call her Mother and she was beaten up because Matt wasn't in school today."
"Mom, why didn't Matt go to school? Wait a second … forget that I asked that question, after last night I know why Matt wasn't in school. Mom,” Karen paused and looked around to make sure they were alone, “Why's Dad's suburban in the driveway?"
"Well, there is a lot I need to tell you and Charles both. First, would you go get me a blanket for Mary Beth?"
Karen quickly returned with a blanket, and they had just finished wrapping it around Mary Beth when Charles came through the front door.
"Hey Mom," Charles called out as he walk through the living room. He was far too involved in the latest Marvel Comics, which his nose was buried in, to see the world around him. He didn’t even notice his mother, sister, or Mary Beth as he walked past them. "When's dinner going to be ready? I've got to be at soccer practice in an hour."
"Charles, we’re in the living room," Edith called out. "Please come in here."
"Hi Mom, I didn't see you there," replied Charles, as he started back towards the living room.
"Of course you didn't, you were too involved in that comic book of yours," Edith said curtly, as Charles entered the room. "Please sit down; there are some things I need to discuss with you and Karen."
"So what's up Mom?" asked Charles as he sat down, "and who's in the blanket on your lap?"
"Mom, shouldn’t Rachael be home by now? And where is Matt?" asked Karen.
"Normally they would both be here, but today just hasn't been normal," Edith started, "Actually I'm not sure what normal is anymore. Both of you remember what happened last night?"
Both Charles and Karen nodded, and then Charles spoke up, "Umm, Mom is this something we should be discussing with Mary Beth here?"
"Yes, … I think it's appropriate. After all, Mary Beth is more a part of this than she knows. It was after all, Mary Beth here that was the first to realize that there was something special about Matt. I think we need to bring Charles up to date. Charles you, of course, remember when you shared a room with Matt, that whenever you were changing clothes, Matt would turn away?"
"Yes Mom, I thought it was a little odd, but didn't pay much attention to it," replied Charles.
"Charles, in the last four years did Matt ever change his clothes in front of you?" asked Edith
"You know? I don't think he ever did. He always took his clothes and changed in the bathroom. At first I thought he was just shy, and then I just accepted it as just being Matt."
“Charles, the reason is because she didn’t feel comfortable changing her clothes around you,” Edith said, knowing that would prompt a question.
“Mom, what do you mean by SHE and HER?”
“Charles, Matt has a condition called Gender Dysphoria. The brief explanation is that whereas Matt’s body is male her mind isn’t. In her heart, mind and soul, Matt is female,” Edith was explaining. “That is why she wouldn’t change clothes in front of you Charles, and just so you know, your middle sister’s name is Matilda.
“What are you trying to tell me Mom? That I have three sisters, not two sisters and a geekie little brother?” asked Charles.
“That’s pretty much it,” Edith said.
“Okay, that explains about Matt, or is it Matilda; I’m still a little confused, anyway now I know why … they act so strange. I still want to know what it has to do with Mary Beth, and where’s Dad?” asked Charles.
“Mary Beth, as I said, is the first one to notice something special about Matt. She has been his friend and protector for the last five years. The odd part is that Matt has been her tutor for the same period of time, except for the last eight weeks, where that role was reversed, right Mary Beth?”
Mary Beth had stopped crying some time ago and was now listening to the conversation around her. “I guess that’s right. After Matt came back to school, Mrs. Roberts had me helping him. It was as if he had lost his memory or gone back in time six years. I started with the basics, the things that we learned in Kindergarten, and went from there. He ... I mean, she, is very smart, she learned so quickly. Mrs. C. is it alright to call her Matilda again?”
“Yes Mary Beth, it’s alright to call her Matilda. Mary Beth, you never knew why Matt lost his memory, did you?” asked Edith.
“No, I didn’t. I tried to get Rachael to tell me, but she wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Mom, Dad said we weren’t ever to use that name again,” said Karen.
“I know that Karen. There is still more for me to tell you. Karen, you remember that night eight weeks ago, the first time your Father found out about Matilda?” asked Edith. "Charles you weren't here that night so please, just listen."
How could Karen forget that night, it was as if it was last night, except that last night was worse.
“Mary Beth, ten weeks ago you invited Rachael and Matilda to your birthday party. The next two weeks were very challenging for Rachael, Matilda and me. We had to teach Matilda how to be a girl, I think we did a pretty good job, as none of the other girls at your birthday party suspected that Matilda wasn't the person that she appeared to be. The next Monday was the first day of school. You, Matilda and Rachael walked to and from school together, do you remember?”
“Yes, Matilda was so happy that day. All she talked about was how much fun he had at my party. She apologized for hiding the Owl so we didn’t win the treasure hunt,” said Mary Beth. “Matilda wasn’t in school for two weeks after that. What happened to her?”
“Mary Beth, you know that your father and Matilda’s father both work for the same company don’t you?”
“Yes, Dad talks about it all the time,” replied Mary Beth
Just then, the doorbell rang. “Karen would you get that please,” asked Edith.
As expected, it was Ellen arriving. “Come in Ellen, please take a seat. You need to hear this as well.”
Once Ellen and Karen were both seated, Edith continued, “Well Mary Beth, it seems that your Dad told David about a girl at your party that looked like Rachael’s twin, and that her name was Matilda. David went crazy that night, when he got home from work. He took all of Matilda’s things out of the dresser drawer, even breaking the lock to get in. After that, David striped Matilda, shredding the underwear she was wearing. Matilda collapsed into a ball on the floor and cried for hours.
“Rachael helped Matilda into bed later, still crying. The next morning when I went to wake Matilda, there wasn’t any-one there. Oh, there was a body in the bed, and the eyes opened, but there was no life, she was … an empty shell. For the next two days I cared for Matilda as you would an infant; I bathed her, dressed her, fed her, and carried her wherever I needed her to be.
“It wasn’t until Thursday morning, while I was feeding her some oatmeal, that her eyes moved and one of her hands moved. I was so happy, because I knew that Matilda wasn’t a total vegetable. She was still an infant and had to be cared for in that manor, but she progressed rapidly. It was, as you know, two weeks before we took her back to school, and although Matilda was alive, responsive, and learning, there was still something missing. There was no desire to live. When Matilda was here at home she was totally, lifeless, she didn’t read, she didn’t help Rachael with the puzzles that they both loved; all she did was sit on her bed.
“David wouldn’t let us; her family celebrate Matt’s tenth birthday. That’s when I got in touch with you, Mary Beth, and had you arrange for her friends to celebrate her birthday. I was hoping that knowing that she still had friends that cared about her would bring her out of the gloom she was in, but it didn’t help.
“It was several days later that I started smuggling some lacy underwear to her. At first, she wouldn’t touch it, but after I told her that I couldn’t stand by and watch her destroy herself trying to be something that she wasn’t, she finally accepted my offer. We were very careful; Matilda only wore them when David was at work. It took about a week for Matilda’s personality to come back; she was happy and giggly just as she had been before. That’s when David started checking to see if Matt was wearing girl’s underwear again. Twice a week David would order Matt to strip, to prove that he wasn’t wearing them.”
“Mrs. C,” Mary Beth interrupted. “Was that about three weeks ago?”
“Yes, I think that was about right. Why?” asked Edith.
“Because that’s when Black Bart started doing the same thing at school,” Mary Beth explained. “I don’t know how he found out about Matilda, but he and a bunch of his friends would grab Matt when we went outside after we finished our lunch. They would carry him to the back of the baseball fields and strip all his clothes off and throw them over the fence. It was two weeks ago that they started grabbing Matt as we went to lunch. Twice last week, and twice the week before, they carried Matt outside and threw him into a white van that drove away. Just before lunch was over the van came back, the door was opened and Matt was let out. He wouldn’t tell me what happened. He was just crying and rubbing his bottom like it hurt real bad.”
“Mary Beth,” Ellen asked, “Would you recognize that van if you saw it again.”
“Better than that, I memorized the license plate … GRU …,” Mary Beth recited confidently, with a smile. It’s the first time she had smiled since Edith found her.
“That’s great Mary Beth. How did you remember it?” asked Ellen, as she keyed it into her PDA.
“Well I did see it drive away four times, with my best friend trapped inside. Besides GRU is missing a couple of letters to be group, I just turned it around and thought of how many were in the group,” said Mary Beth.
“Well Edith, I can see what led up to Matilda’s suicide attempt. What I don’t know is what happened last night to act as the catalyst,” asked Ellen
“SUICIDE,” screamed Mary Beth, “You mean that Matilda is ...” she didn’t finish her question.
“No Mary Beth, … it’s all right. Matilda is fine,” Edith said, trying to calm the child on her lap.
“Yesterday, David was supposed to work from twelve noon to twelve midnight,” Edith continued, “The problem was, he came home early. Matilda was wearing her pink underwear and didn’t have time to change before David ordered her to strip. David flew into a rage when he saw it. David hit me when I tried to stop him.”
“That explains your black eye and burses,” Ellen commented.
“Yes,” Edith said sadly, gently touching the swollen eye. “However David’s rage was focused on Matilda. She took the brunt of his anger last night I’m afraid. That’s also when David announced that he was going to send Matt to that military school in Texas.
“This morning, as Rachael was getting ready for school, she tried to wake Matilda. The reason she said it was Matilda, is that she had gotten her dress, wig and makeup from her during the night. Anyway, early this morning Matilda tried to kill herself. She felt that if she were gone, it would somehow protect the rest of us from David’s anger. Fortunately, Rachael and I found her before it was too late. Right now, she is at Primary Children’s hospital in intensive care. She’s not awake yet, and I’m starting to get worried. Rachael and a couple of Matilda’s friends are with her right now.”
“Well, I guess that explains why Matt wasn’t in school today,” said Mary Beth. “I wish I’d known. Maybe Bart wouldn’t have beaten me up so much if I could have told him where Matt was.”
“Mary Beth,” Ellen asked, “This Bart person. Does he hurt a lot of the students at school?”
“Yes, that’s why we call him Black Bart,” replied Mary Beth. “It doesn’t matter what he does, none of the teachers or the principal will do anything to stop him. According to the grapevine, his parents have some kind of connection somewhere. All I know is that Black Bart gets away with doing anything he wants and nobody stops him. The first time that Bart got into trouble was when we were in Kindergarten; he pushed someone into a wall and broke their nose. The principle called in Bart's parents to talk about it. I was passing the principles office as Bart and his Father came out. They were laughing, as if something was very funny. I looked in the office and saw the principle, he was sitting behind his desk shaking, and looking like he'd seen a ghost. I've never seen anyone so scared. After that, Bart did anything he wanted and none of the teachers did anything to stop him.”
“Well, we will have to see about this,” Ellen said, looking like she was ready to take on another challenge. “There’s something wrong with the system, when one delinquent boy can terrorize an entire school and nothing is done about it. I’ll just have to do some research and see what kind of connections this boy’s parents have.”
“Mary Beth,” Edith asked, “You seem to be feeling better. Are you sure you don’t want me to call your Mother?”
“You can if you want,” Mary Beth answered with her head down, “But it won’t matter. Mom is still mad at me about inviting Matilda to my birthday party. When she found out about Matilda, she yelled at me like never before. I haven’t been spanked since I was five, but Mom worked on my bare bottom for at least half an hour the day she found out, I’ve also been ground since then. I can go to school and church, and that’s it, I can’t have friends over, I can’t watch TV, I can’t do anything that’s fun. Mom even took away Samantha and Nellie because they came from Matilda and Rachael. I cried for weeks when she did that.” Mary Beth started softly crying again as she finished. It was quiet, save for the soft crying of Mary Beth, each one was consumed by their own thoughts.
“Mom couldn’t stop me from seeing Matt at school," continued Mary Beth, once she was able to control her emotions again. "She’s been mad about that since Matt came back to school. She even tried to get me transferred to a different class, but Mrs. Roberts explained to the principal that I was the only one that Matt trusted, and that taking me away would do Matt more harm than good, cuz I was helping him so much. Mom is so mad, she won’t care that I was beaten up because of Matt. She’ll just say that it serves me right … for hanging around … that little, ... freak.” Once again, Mary Beth was crying.
“Edith,” asked Ellen. “Is there someplace where Mary Beth and I may talk privately?”
“Of course, the two of you can go into the family room. Do you feel up to walking, Mary Beth?” asked Edith.
Mary Beth nodded and slid off Edith’s lap. Still holding the blanket around her, she led Ellen into the family room.
“Mom,” said Charles, “Now I know about Matt, and that he thinks he’s a girl. We know who beat up Mary Beth and why, but you still haven’t explained where Dad is.”
“Well, I guess it started about eight weeks ago as we've explained,” Edith started, “That was the first time that your Father ordered Matilda to strip. As I said you weren’t home that night Charles. That was why Matt suddenly regressed back to when he was a baby. We had to care for him, feed him, we treated him in every way as if he was a infant. It took two weeks before Matt could talk well enough to go back to school. You never knew what happened to Matt did you? Well, now you know. You remember all the other times that your Father either ordered Matilda to strip or brutally stripped her. According to the District Attorney that is considered sexually abusing a child, adding that to the physical abuse of slapping Matilda around. Well, to make a long story short, Charles, ... Karen, ... your Father was arrested this afternoon, and will most likely spend the next fifteen to thirty years in prison.”
The room was silent for several minutes.
Then Charles screamed, “You mean to tell me, that because of my little freak of a brother, Dad’s going to be in prison for the next thirty years?”
“Well, that didn’t go over very well,” commented Ellen, as she and Mary Beth came back into the living room. "Charles, before you blame Matilda for something that's beyond her control, I would like to point out one thing. Matilda did nothing to warrant the treatment she received. Her only crime was trying to become the person that she truly is. Your Father could have reacted to Matilda in a hundred different ways, none of which would have ended up with these results. Your Father was arrested for his own actions. He, most likely, will be spending a good portion of his life as a ‘guest’ at the Utah state prison, because of his actions alone, not because of anything Matilda, did or did not do. Remember, Charles, anger and violence are never an appropriate course of action."
After a short pause Ellen continued. "Edith, can Mary Beth stay here for the evening? I need to pickup a friend of mine and then go have a chat with Mr. and Mrs. Phelps."
"Sure thing Ellen," said Edith. "Mary Beth can stay here as long as necessary. I'm almost afraid to ask who your friend is and why you want them along when you talk with the Phelps."
"Her name is Martha Woodward; she’s the director of the Division of Child and Family Services. When playing poker it's always good to be holding an ace or two."
After Ellen left it was quiet, each was left to their own thoughts. After several minutes, Karen broke down and started crying softly.
"What is it Karen?" asked Edith.
"I was thinking about last night," Karen said, wiping away some tears, "And how Matt must have felt. I just can't imagine how bad he must have felt. I guess bad enough to want to die."
It was quiet for several more minutes, save for the soft crying of Karen and Mary Beth.
Charles broke the silence by asking, "Mom, with Dad in jail, what's going to happen to us? I mean who will pay the bills, how will we eat. Where are we going to live?"
"Well, as far as where we're going to live, I think we'll stay right here. I never liked the idea of being in debt, so each month when the house payment was due I sent in twice what was due; this house is almost paid for. As for our day-to-day living expenses, I've been offered a job as a counselor at a private school. While working there I'll also be taking some classes at the university. Within a year or so, I should finally be able to graduate with the doctorate in child psychology that I was working on when I married, … your father. There will of course, need to be a few changes around here. Starting tomorrow, each of you will learn to do your own laundry."
This of course brought forth negative comments from both Charles and Karen. "All right, you two!" Edith said sharply, breaking up the joint pity party. "It isn't going to hurt either of you to learn to be self-reliant. However, let's start with something easy, like dinner. Karen, would you go get out the large pot and fill it about halfway with water and put it on to boil? Charles, please take some hamburger out of the freezer and start cooking it in the large frying pan on a medium heat."
This of course brought more whining from both children. "Come on you two, scoot!" ordered Edith, "I need to talk with Mary Beth."
Reluctantly, and grumbling, Karen and Charles went to do as their Mother had requested. Having had the luxury of a Mother that didn't work, outside the home, both children were about to get a crash course in being self-reliant.
"Mary Beth, do you know why Ellen wants to talk to your parent's?" asked Edith.
"Oh yes, she works at a special school that uses a different way of teaching. The test I took before school started was the first of two, to see if I would benefit from their style of teaching. I took the second test three weeks ago. Ellen said that I have just the personality they've been looking for. She has gone to ask my parents if I can go. Oh, I hope they say yes."
"Mary Beth, did Ellen tell you anything else about the school?"
"Well, she did say that it’s a long way from here, that I would live there. In addition, that it's a year round school, so I wouldn't come home until I graduate, when I'm eighteen. That sounds like a long time, but the way my family has been treating me because of Matilda, I think it would be good to go there. I don't think I could ever stop being Matilda's friend."
"Well, I hope you're happy with whatever your parents say. I know that Matilda is lucky to have a friend like you. Shall we go see if Karen, or Charles, have figured out how to turn on the stove? I may have a lot of teaching to do so those two don't starve," Edith said with a giggle.
After dinner, of undercooked spaghetti, and slightly burnt spaghetti sauce, all relaxed in the family room as they awaited Ellen's return. Even though they were expecting it, the doorbell took several by surprise, causing them to jump. Edith went to answer the door, leaving Charles and Karen in the family room, with Mary Beth tagging along, frightened of being away from someone she trusted.
"Hello Ellen," Edith said, "How did things go with the Phelps?"
"About as I expected, I did need to play one ace, but not the whole hand. They were a little reluctant, but they finally agreed that Mary Beth would benefit from a different teaching environment."
"Does that mean?" Mary Beth squealed.
"Yes little one, you will be going with me. First though, we need to have you checked out by the doctors up at Primary Children's Hospital. Then well go and see how Matilda is doing. Would that be all right?"
"Oh … Yes! I so want to see Matilda again. Ellen is there anyway that Matilda could go to this school too?" asked Mary Beth.
"Well, we'll see what we can work out," replied Ellen. "Why don't you go and get Charles and Karen. Then the three of you go get into Edith’s car. She'll be out in a minute to take everyone to the hospital. I need to take Ms Woodward home, she’s waiting in my van, and then I'll meet you there."
There was a sudden scurry of activity as the three children left the house.
"Edith, first let me apologize to you," Ellen said humbly. "I feel responsible for this entire unfortunate chain of events."
"Ellen, what are you talking about? You didn't make David act the way he did."
"No, I didn't make David act the way he did, but I could have removed the catalyst weeks ago."
"Ellen, what are you saying?"
"Edith, I had approval to offer Matilda a place at the school four weeks ago. I was just waiting to see if Mary Beth would be approved before I said anything. Oh Edith, none of this had to happen. … Matilda's suicide attempt, David being arrested and going to prison, none of this had to happen. Edith, I'm so sorry." Ellen was almost in tears.
"Ellen, there's no need for this. You don't know David as I do. He wouldn't have giving his permission for Matilda to go. David had to be in control all the time. Matthias was David's ‘son’, and he was going to see to it that Matt became the kind of man that David thought he should be, or kill him in the process. There isn’t anything that you could have done four weeks ago, that would have changed what’s happened. If anything, it would have just happened sooner. I'm just grateful that you were here for us today. Now come on, you have to get Ms. Woodward home, and I've got three silly kids tearing my car apart."
"Oh Edith, how is it that you're so understanding?"
"It's that understanding that made it possible for me to get such high grades when I was at the university. It's that understanding that is going to make me one of the best psychiatrist's you've ever seen. It was also that understanding that allowed me to see what was hiding beneath the surface of a shy, … timid little boy. A little boy, … who is now destined to be one smart, caring and loving young lady."
Both women had to wipe their eyes before another word was spoken.
"Ellen, should we wait for you in the emergency ..." started Edith.
"No Edith, I've already made the arrangements. You just need to take Mary Beth into emergency. Liz will be waiting for you and she'll take charge of Mary Beth until I arrive. Then the three of you can go up and see how Matilda's doing. I'll come up and see you there. Oh Edith, I do have one favor to ask, don't tell Mary Beth or Matilda that Matilda will be going to the Manor. It’s part of a surprise I'm working on."
"That's the least I can do for you Ellen. I owe you more than you could know."
When Edith and the kids arrived at the entrance to the hospital, Lizy was indeed waiting for them.
"Hello Lizy," said Mary Beth, when she recognized her. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to take care of you. I hear you tried to go through a brick wall," Lizy said with a teasing giggle.
"No, I didn't try to go through one, it just sort of fell on top of me," Mary Beth answered back.
"So Mary Beth, all kidding aside, how are you feeling?" Lizy asked.
"Well, I'm feeling a lot better than I did this afternoon. It still hurts when I take a deep breath though."
"Well, Ellen's arranged for them to check you out, from head to toe. I'll be with you the whole time so there's nothing to worry about, does that sound okay?" asked Lizy.
"That's sounds great, I don’t want to be alone with a bunch of strange people. Thank you Lizy."
"Well, it sounds like you have everything under control Lizy," Edith said. "We're going up to check on Matilda. You know where to find us if you need anything."
"Mrs. C, thanks for helping me," Mary Beth said while giving Edith a hug. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"I'm glad I was able to help Mary Beth," Edith smiled as she returned the hug. “When you're done here, have Lizy bring you up to Matilda's room. We’ll see you later Dear."
Edith was the first to enter Matilda's room; she was greeted with, "Hi Mom, do I have to go home already?"
"Hello, Rachael, I love you too," said Edith with a sarcastic chuckle, "What a way to be greeted."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Rachael said. "I just wanted to be here when Matilda wakes up." Just then, Charles and Karen came into the room.
"Hi guys," Rachael said, addressing Charles and Karen. Turning to her mother, she adds softly, "Mom, do they both know?"
"Do you mean about my dorky little brother wanting to be a girl?" Charles said a little gruffly.
"Or about Dad going to prison for all the cruel things he did?" added Karen.
"Yep, they know all right," said Rachael. "So Chuck, what do you think?"
"Think about what?" asked Charles.
"About Matilda, of course," asked Rachael. "Of course, she looks lots better with a little makeup, and when she’s up and around."
"I don't know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What am I supposed to think? Rachael, how long have you known about this?"
"Um, since you moved into your bedroom in the basement," Rachael said shyly.
"What? This has been going on that long.” Charles said gruffly. “Holy cow, no wonder Dad was pissed at Matt, the crazy little ..."
"Hold on a second Charles," Edith said calmly. "First off, we’re talking about Matilda, your sister. The person that you knew as Matt actually disappeared four years ago. That’s when Matilda's mind realized that something wasn't right with her. She coped with it the only way she knew how, and that was in secret. I realized that there was something different about Matt, sometime last March. Sweet Mary Beth, she was the only one who knew that buried within that tiny, shy, timid little boy was a princess, trying to find her way out. Now,” Edith continued sternly, “I would appreciate it if you would stop referring to her as if she is a disgusting person, she IS your sister. What she needs now is our love, acceptance, and understanding, not more hatred. Have you got that?"
“Um ... Yes, Mom,” a much subdued Charles replied.
No one said anything after that. Edith had to dry her eyes.
Then to change the mood of the room, "Any sign of life from sleeping beauty?" Edith asked jokingly.
"Not a sign Mrs. Covington," Beca answered. "It's really kind of strange, seeing her laying there so still and lifeless, knowing how full of life she was the last time I saw her."
"I know what you mean Beca, I know what you mean," Edith said. "Rachael, Beca, have you two had dinner?"
"No Mrs. Covington," replied Beca.
"I tell you what Beca, I'm told the cafeteria here is open late," Edith said, reaching into her purse. "Why don't you take these three down there, get dinner for Rachael and yourself. I'm sure that Charles and Karen wouldn't turn down a chance at some desert. This should cover what ever they want. I'll stay here with Matilda." Then Edith gave Beca enough money to take care of what ever the kids wanted.
"Okay Mrs. Covington, I just need to let Ellen and Lizy know where I'll be," said Beca. She removed her PDA from her pocket and quickly sent a message.
Within a minute Beca’s PDA beeped, indicating a new message had been received. Beca then handed the money back to Edith saying, "Ellen has already made arrangements with the cafeteria for all of us. She also said that Lizy would be joining us there. Ellen said to tell you that she and Mary Beth will be up to see you and Matilda in a little while."
"Well, I guess that's that. Off you go, you don't want to keep Lizy waiting.”
Edith moved a chair so she could sit right next to Matilda's bed. Sitting there, she took one of Matilda's small hands into hers, just as she had done early that morning. Edith started softly singing one of the many lullabies that she remembered singing to a small little boy, a little boy that now would only live in her heart and in her memories.
About fifteen minutes later, as Edith was still singing softly, mixed with crying, several nurses entered and started quietly rearranging the room.
"What's going on?" Edith inquired, after she finished the song she was singing.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you Mrs. Covington," one of the nurses replied softly. "We were told to get the room ready for another patient."
"I was told that Ellen Hansen had arranged for Matilda to be in a private room.”
"I'm afraid I don't know anything about that," the nurse apologized. "All I know is that we just got a call from someone in emergency saying that a patient is on their way up, and that we are to put them in this room."
Not five minutes later, another nurse pushed in another bed with a girl, lying on her side, facing away from Edith. Well, we’ll assume it’s a girl, the hair would indicate feminine, but the rest was covered by blankets.
Once the bed was in place the nurses left. A few moments later Ellen came in.
"Hello Edith, what's all this?" she asked pointing to the other bed.
"I don't know Ellen. I thought you said that this was a private room," replied Edith.
There was a rustling from the newly arrived bed. "What's the matter, can't I share a room with my friend Matilda!" exclaimed Mary Beth.
"Mary Beth, I didn't know that was you," stuttered a bewildered Edith. “What are you doing here, and in a bed?”
“Well, it seams that Bart did a little more damage than just a bloody nose and a black eye,” answered Mary Beth. “I’ve also got three cracked ribs. I guess that explains why it hurt to take a deep breath. The problem I have now is that with all the tape they wrapped around me, it’s hard to breathe at all.”
"Oh Mary Beth," said Edith, sympathetically, "I'm so sorry this happened to you."
"Well, it could have been a lot worse," replied Mary Beth. "All things considered, I feel pretty lucky."
"Just how do you figure that you're lucky?" asked Ellen.
"Because, I get to spend the next few days in the same room as my very best friend, Matilda." beamed Mary Beth.
"Oh Mary Beth," exclaimed Edith. "What are we going to do with you?"
"Well, ... a hug works for me." said Mary Beth with a huge smile.
Both Ellen and Edith were giggling as they shook their heads.
As things quieted down, the room became almost silent, there was however the unmistakable sounds of someone crying softly. It was so soft that Edith, Ellen and Mary Beth assumed that it was coming from another room. As the sad sounds of a broken heart continued, slowly the volume increased. Edith finally recognized the tone of that soft, sad crying; she turned to see Matilda's body quiver as she was crying. Rushing to Matilda's side Edith picked up her daughter. Edith would have spun around in joy with Matilda in her arms, had it not been for the wires and tubes that were attached.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 12 -Reposted
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Nooo, how could this have happen?
What horrors await me now?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Hart
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 12
"Oh Matilda, thank heavens, you're awake," Mom cried. She was holding me so close her tears were mixing with mine. "Oh, I love you, I love you my dear, dear daughter." She kissed my cheeks again, and again.
After hugging me for several minutes and crying with joy, Mom put me gently, back into my bed.
I continued to cry my heart out, knowing that I'd failed to save the ones I love.
"Matilda, Dear, why are you still crying?" Mom asked.
"Because this isn’t where I'm supposed be. Now Dad will hate me even more, and he’ll hit you again. Everyone’s problems would be gone, if I was gone." It was hard for me to speak; each word was intermixed with my crying.
Mom sat on my bed and held me tight, softly stroking my hair. I’d almost stopped crying before I could hear her soft voice speaking, "Hush dear, it's all right. Nobody is mad at you, and nobody's going to hit anyone. Right now, your Father has bigger problems to worry about than what clothes you're wearing."
"Yeah, your Dad's biggest problem is going to be his new bunkmate, Big John," I heard a voice from somewhere close by, which seemed to be laughing and moaning at the same time.
Still sniffling, I asked, "Is that Mary Beth?"
"Yes, Dear, she's in the next bed," Mom answered gently.
I opened my eyes for the first time since waking up, and looked around. "Mom, where are we?"
"This is Primary Children's Hospital. It's where the paramedics brought you after ... After Rachael and I found you this morning," Mom said, as she fought back more tears, I wasn’t so successful.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I cried, hugging Mom tightly.
“Well you should be! Do you have any idea what we’ve been through today? You don't know the pain I went through this morning when Rachael and I found you lying on your bed, your life slowly slipping away. Then as I read the note you left ... it tore my heart out. I didn't know if you were going to live or die. I had no idea what had been happening to you at school. At first, I wanted to tear apart the animals that would do such a thing to my precious child. Then I wanted to join you in death, because I'd, ... I'd failed, failed you as your mother.
"Then imagine how I felt, calling Jill and Ellen, telling them what you’d done? I can’t even begin to count the number of people who would be deeply saddened by your death. Just the idea that you would do something like that to yourself, it’s so … so horrible, and so selfish.” She went on and listed them, one by one.
I hadn’t realized how many people care about me. How could I have been so wrong in my thinking? I don’t know how long I cried while hugging Mom.
After I stopped crying, again, I turned to see Mary Beth in the other bed and sadly asked, "Well, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, I just had a little accident. I ran into Black Bart's fist, repeatedly," giggled Mary Beth, then she winced in pain. "I've got a bunch of cracked ribs and a lot of bruises, but I'm OK. The worst part is the tape from my armpits to my belly button. It's starting to itch, and is going to drive me crazy."
"Yes, well, we'll take care of Bart terrorizing the school when the time is right," said Ellen, from behind Mom. "As for the itching, young lady, that will pass."
"Oh ... Hello Ellen, I didn't know you were here too," I said softly.
"Don't make it sound like a bad thing Matilda," retorted Ellen. "Most people would consider having friends that care enough about you to drop what they’re doing to come to your aid to be a good thing. I'm sure that Beca and Liz, not to mention Charles, Karen and Rachael will all be delighted to know that you're awake."
"They’re all here?" I asked sadly.
“Of course they’re here! They’re here because they care about you. At the moment, they're all downstairs in the cafeteria," Mom replied.
After I thought about what Mom had told me a few moments I asked, "Wait a minute, Mom, how long has Rachael been here?"
"She's been here most of the afternoon and evening, why?"
"That explains my nightmare," I explained, "I remember hearing a little voice. I thought I'd died ... Only I didn't get to go to heaven. I was cursed to live my life over, and over. Only it wasn't my life, I was Jane and my brother was Michael."
"Mary Poppins," Mom and Ellen said together.
"That was it," I agreed. "Only now I know that it was Rachael's voice, narrating the same day from Mary Poppins over, and over, and over. I may have to tear those pages from the book."
Everyone in the room chuckled about that, except me.
"Mom, what did Mary Beth mean? She said something about Dad and someone named Big John.”
"Matilda," Mom said softly, "After the ambulance left this morning to bring you here, I called Ellen. I needed to find a way, legally find a way to prevent David from ever hurting you ever again. After Ellen learned about everything your father had done to you, she called some people that she knows." Mom's voice was even quieter than before, "Matilda, your father was arrested this afternoon. With all the evidence against him, it's likely that he will be spending a long time at the state prison."
"Oh Mom, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," I said, as I hung my head in shame, crying once again.
“No Matilda, it wasn’t your fault,” Mom reassured me, once again sitting on my bed and holding me close. “Your father didn’t have to react the way he did. He made his own decisions, and now he’s paying the consequences for those decisions. The only thing you’re responsible for is trying to be the person that you know you should be. … Of course, there is the little matter of some sleeping pills that I’m not very happy about.”
“Sorry Mom, I just thought that things would be better for everyone else if I wasn’t around.”
“Well,” Mom continued, “Before you start thinking that things would be better if you weren’t around, I think you should spend some time thinking about how many people love you, and how many lives you’ve touched during your life. Then try to think of those who you could help in the future. One caring person, during their life touches the lives of thousands of others.”
The room was quiet once again, except for my crying. ‘What’s in this stuff they’re pumping into me? I’ve been crying so much I wouldn’t think I’d have any tears left, but they just keep coming. Oh, I had no idea that my single life was so important, what is so special about me?’
“Well that’s the first time I can honestly say that your thinking was flawed,” Ellen finally broke the silence. “Edith, could I persuade you to take Mary Beth for a little walk? I think it’s time for her exercise, and I’d like to talk with Matilda alone for a couple of minutes.”
“Um sure, I guess so,” Mom answered, wondering what was going on. “Come on, Mary Beth. Let’s see if we can find that cafeteria.”
After they left, with Mom trying to hold the back of Mary Beth’s hospital gown closed, Ellen sat in the chair, next to my bed. “Matilda, I'll get right to the point. Do you remember the tests you took while you were at the Manor?”
“Yes, you said that no one had ever finished them.”
“That’s right; you must have read and answered each question very quickly. Knowing those questions the way I do, and the speed with which you must have answered them tells me how very sure of yourself you were at that time. Are you still that sure of yourself?”
“Honestly Ellen, right now I’m not sure of anything.”
“I understand. Be that as it may, do you remember what I said about you taking the tests?”
“Um, you said that you didn’t think it was necessary, but it was a formality. I guess that meant that you knew about how I would do on the test, right?”
“That’s pretty close, Matilda. It also means that I was sure the review board would approve of offering you a position at the school.”
“Do you mean that I can go back to the Manor as a full time student?”
“Yes, Matilda, that’s what it means, if you still want to go?”
“If I still want to go? Now that’s a silly question! I was only there for a few days, but for those few days I felt like the Manor was my home. Of course I want to go.”
“Matilda, there a few things I need to tell you before you make your final decision. First, you know that the students live at the school?”
“Yes, Beca and Lizy told us when we were on tour that first day. They said that only the students that are from around here get to leave, and that was very seldom.”
“Matilda, that’s what we tell guests. The truth is that the only time you will leave the school grounds is when the whole school goes somewhere. Remember, the existence of the school is a secret. If someone saw you and recognized you, they would know something strange was going on.”
“But, Beca and Lizy were helping at Mary Beth’s birthday party?” I questioned.
“That's true Matilda. First, understand, that was an unusual circumstance. They weren't there to help with the party; they were only there to help you. Second, neither of them are from around here, so there was no risk of them being recognized. Do you understand?”
“I think so; it means that I will not see Karen, Chuck or Rachael again, or any of my friends, not that I have that many friends,” I said a little sadly.
“Well Matilda. Now that you know the facts, the decision is yours. Do you still want to be a full-time student at the Manor?”
“Well, ... after thinking about this for almost an eternity, zero point six two seconds as Data would put it, yes, absolutely, yes. The person I’m going to miss the most is Rachael, because we’ve become so close over the last six months. Of course, I’ll miss Molly, Julie and the others, but I’ll make new friends. There are about one hundred and forty students that I don’t know yet.”
“Very well, Matilda, I’ll make the arrangements."
"Um, Ellen, … You've already made the arrangements, ... haven't you!" I grinned.
"Why, Matilda, what do you mean?"
"Those two weeks that I was at the Manor, the clothes fit me, the shoes fit me. You knew that I would one day be a full-time student. That's the only reason you would have spent so much time and money teaching me to be a girl. That's also why you arranged for my room to be in the dormitory, instead of one of the guest rooms in the administration building that Miss Adams mentioned."
"Well, it seems that Beca's right about you. You do know how to solve a mystery, even if you don't have all the facts. Yes, I knew that you would say yes. There wasn't a doubt in my mind. There’s something else I need to tell you … we’ve selected a study partner for you. I can’t tell you who it is, but I think you will be happy ...”
“It’s Mary Beth, isn’t it?”
“All right Miss Holmes! Just how did you figure ‘that’ one out?”
“Well, First, Mary Beth has some cracked ribs and a black eye and some bruises. They don’t normally put you in the hospital for injuries that are so minor.
"Secondly, I know that she's taken both tests. Knowing her as I do, I know how she would have answered those questions. She took longer, and she didn't finish them, but she pretty much answered them the same as me with a few exceptions.
"Third, she is much more bubbly and giggly than she has been in weeks, which means that she has something exciting that she wants to tell me. My guess is that you've already talked to both her and her parents, and they've agreed to let her attend.
"Fourth, you arranged for me to be in this room. I know from what Beca's told me, that you consider me one of your students. The only way someone else would be put in this room is if they were also one of your students.”
“Logical, flawlessly logical,” Ellen said, while keeping a straight face and trying to raise a single eyebrow.
I looked directly at Ellen and started giggling.
“Well if you can quote Data then I can quote Mr. Spock.” We both giggled at Ellen’s comeback.
"Ellen, how many trekkies are there at the Manor?"
"Honestly Matilda, I've lost count." We both giggled again.
“Matilda, there is something I'd like you to do for me. I need you to keep this a secret. Mary Beth doesn’t know that you are going to the Manor. In fact, Mary Beth doesn’t know the school’s name, or where it’s located. I know it will be difficult for you, but please do this for me.”
“I thought that there were to be no secrets between study partners. At least that’s what Lizy said.”
“Well that’s true, but being that neither of you are officially students yet, we’ll let it go this time.”
“Can you tell me why you want me to keep it a secret from Mary Beth?”
“I’m planning a little surprise for her. You of course, are part of that surprise.”
“Okay, you can count on me. It's going to be hard to keep that kind of information from her, and I don't like the idea of lying, especially to my friend."
"Matilda, I 'm not asking you to lie to her, just keep her in the dark a little, by not telling her everything that you know. If Mary Beth asks you specific questions and you would have to lie to her, to keep her in the dark, I expect you to tell her the truth. Do you understand?"
"I think so; it's still going to be hard because she'll probably know I'm hiding something from her."
"Well, all I can ask is that you do your best. If you have to tell her, then you have to tell her. If you can keep it a secret for a few days you both will enjoy the surprise."
"Oh Ellen, ... may I ask a favor?”
"Certainly Matilda, you may ask me anything you'd like, and if it's something I can do, then it will be done."
"Well, um, it's kind of personal. I guess I could wait ... but well ... I kind of got used to it. It's just that it's uncomfortable when I'm not ... um well ... you know." I'm sure I was blushing while I was stepping all over my tongue.
"Matilda, what on earth are you talking about?"
"Well, ... I need some underwear," I said quickly, so I could get it out. I'm sure I was red as a beet.
"Oh, I see," said Ellen. "From the way you were stammering, I'll guess what you want is not just for decoration, but for holding things in place?"
I shyly nodded.
"Relax Matilda; I know exactly what you mean."
From my shocked expression and the fact that my eyes were probably as large as silver dollars, Ellen figured she had some explaining to do. "From the look on your face I think you've jumped to a conclusion that's not correct. First, I'm not transsexual. I was born female and I plan to remain that way. Second, I understand what you were saying, because any time I leave my apartment without my support garments, I feel positively naked. I'll see if I can't arrange for something to be delivered tonight." Ellen grinned while patting my hand.
Just then, Mom and Mary Beth came back. “Well, have you two solved all the mysteries of the universe yet?” Mom asked jokingly.
“No, not all of them, we left a few for NASA and the guys at MIT,” I said.
“Oh Matilda, sometimes you’re just so silly,” Mary Beth giggled, struggling to get back into her bed while trying to maintain her dignity.
"I know, that's why you love me the way you do," I giggled.
Just then, the rest of the herd showed up.
"Hey there, Munchkin! I see you've decided to rejoin the land of the living," Beca exclaimed, as she came over and gave me a hug.
"Munchkin? Where did Munchkin come from?" asked Karen.
"Well, it all started …" Beca started to say.
"Hold it, Beca," I interrupted. "There are too many people in this room to start telling that story."
"What does the number of people have to do with it?" asked Karen.
"Well, for one, the story gets longer every time it's told. Second, the nurses wouldn't like this many people laughing, dancing around and singing ‘Were Off to See the Wizard.’ It would disturb the other patients," I explained. "You come up tomorrow after school. Mary Beth and I would be happy to tell you the long story of the Munchkin and the Princess."
"Oh Matilda, you're spoiling all my fun," Beca complained.
"Beca, Matilda's right," Mom said. "Remember how we were all laughing about it at Mary Beth's birthday party?"
"Of course I remember, it was lots of fun for everyone, wasn't it?" Beca asked.
"Don't worry about her, Matilda," Lizy added, as she gave me a hug. "When she's away from school, Beca turns into such a party animal."
"I do not!" Beca quickly countered.
"Oh yes you do. Remember our last field trip?" Lizy teased her.
"But that wasn't my ..."
"Girls," said Ellen sharply, "This isn't the time. Besides, I have a favor to ask of the two of you." Ellen whispered something into Beca's ear, and then both Beca and Lizy left, promising to return.
In the meantime, Rachael had worked her way over to my bedside.
"Hey Matilda," she asked softly. "Why did you do it?"
"Do what sis?"
"You know, … Try to go to sleep and not wake up," she said sadly.
"Well, little sister, that's kind of complicated," I said sadly. Suddenly the room was quiet, all the little side conversations stopped. Gee whiz, talk about being in the spotlight. "Well, Rachael, you know how mad Dad was about me trying to be, who I need to be. All he could see was what he wanted me to be? Also, remember what he did to me when he was mad?"
"Yes," Rachael soberly whispered, remembering the horrific events.
"You know how mad Dad was, when Mom tried to help me? And how he hit her when he was mad at me?"
Rachael sadly nodded, "I remember."
"Well I thought that there would come a time, when Dad would get mad at you, and Karen, and maybe even Mary Beth, because you've all helped me. I didn't want him to hit you or Mom, or anyone else because of me.
"After doing a lot of thinking, I thought that ... Well ... If I was gone then Dad wouldn't be mad at anyone, and he wouldn't try hurting anyone anymore. I guess, in a way, I did it to try to protect you … Mommy … Karen ... and Mary Beth. I know now that my thinking was wrong. I'm sorry that I've caused everyone so much pain."
"Well, some good has come out of this little episode," Ellen said.
"What's that?" asked Mom, wiping her eyes.
"The Munchkin has started the process of growing up. She's learning to think about the needs of others, and putting their needs before her own. Her conclusion was all wrong, but there was some logic in her thinking."
Just then, a very young nurse came in. Her nametag said Marie. I found out she was there to check my vital signs. She seemed surprised, although pleased, that I was awake. I guess everyone was so excited that nobody had remembered to tell the hospital staff. She chased everyone out of the room and closed the door so she could do her work. Mom, of course, refused to leave.
"Um, excuse me, Ma'am, but I need to take her vital signs and I need to change her um, ah …" Marie was stuttering for some reason.
"Her um, what?" asked Mom.
"Well, ma'am, I um, need to change her diaper," said Marie. She seemed to be blushing slightly.
"Diaper," I exclaimed, as I lifted the blankets. "I thought something felt a little strange down there, but with all the excitement, I hadn't paid much attention to it."
Mary Beth was giggling, almost to the point of open laughter.
"Watch it Mary Beth, I've got connections. I can arrange for you to wear one as well," I said in my best threatening voice. Yeah, right, a threatening voice from a ten year old.
"Marie," Mom asked, "Have you changed Matilda before?"
"Well um, no Ma'am, I just came on duty. Actually, this is my first day working this floor. I've never even seen Matilda before."
"I see," Mom nodded, acknowledging Marie's reply, "First of all, I'm Matilda's mother, so I'm not leaving. You may address me as Edith or Mrs. Covington. Secondly, I think the other nurses are playing a little joke on you."
Mom’s suspicion was confirmed as I saw several nurses peeking through the partly opened door that Marie had closed. Mom and Marie weren’t facing the door so I don’t know if they noticed them.
"You see Matilda isn't your average girl. She has a little birth defect, which may surprise you as you change her diaper. Third, as Matilda is now awake and is quite capable of using a toilet, I don't think a new diaper will be needed."
"Mom, do you think you could do it instead?" I asked.
"Nonsense Matilda, I’m sure that Marie is quite capable of removing a diaper."
"But Mom, pleeease," I pleaded.
I heard some giggling from Mary Beth. Then I glanced towards the door and saw that Charles had joined the small group of silent nurses. I’d thought that being naked from the waist down in front of Miss Adams was embarrassing. That was nothing compared to the fate that awaited me now. Everyone is going to see what I've tried to keep hidden, and why.
"Now Matilda don't act like a child," Mom scolded, "If you’re embarrassed, just close your eyes. Mary Beth, being that this room isn't intended for two, there isn't a privacy curtain. Would you roll over and face the wall please."
"But, Mrs. C …" Mary Beth moaned.
"Mary Beth, roll over," Mom instructed.
"Oh that's not fair!" Mary Beth grumbled. I heard rustling from her bed so I knew that she was following Mom's instructions. At least I won't have to be embarrassed every time Mary Beth looks at me. I’ll have to remember to thank Mom later.
"Marie, you may proceed."
I reached above my head and grabbed my pillow, I pulled it out from under my head and used it to cover my face.
"Yes Ma'am, I mean Mrs. Covington. You're right about not needing to continue diapering her. I'll just remove this one," Marie said.
"Mom, pleeease," I begged once more, from beneath the pillow.
Marie pulled down my blankets and lifted up my hospital gown revealing what I assumed to be a standard white disposable diaper. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of the tapes being pulled, releasing the diaper. I felt a sudden draft, where I'd previously been warm.
"Mrs. Covington, you did say that Matilda's a girl?" Marie asked.
"Yes I did Marie.”
"But she has a fully developed, well I guess not fully developed, but, she has a ..."
"Birth defect," Mom added quickly.
"But, it's a ..."
"Marie, it's just a birth defect," Mom said calmly as she lowered my hospital gown, once again covering my embarrassment.
That’s when it started, the oohs, the aahs, and the giggles. Can someone die from embarrassment? My body started shaking noticeably revealing the fact to all that I was sobbing under my pillow.
"What on earth are you doing in here?' Mom exclaimed. "OUT! All of you!" I heard the rushing of feet, snickers, whispers and then I heard the door closed. As all of this was happening, someone pulled my blankets back up and tucked them in around me.
Sobbing, I rolled over, away from Mom, away from Mary Beth, away from everyone.
I don't know how long I cried before someone lifted the pillow off my head. I opened my eyes to see the caring face of my Mother.
"You didn't have to do that," I cried.
"Do what dear?," Mom said softly.
"You could have closed the door," I said.
"Matilda, I didn't know those people there. Marie sent everyone out and closed the door. Neither of us heard them come in. You know that I would never do anything to hurt you."
"You could have taken the diaper off. You didn't have to let Marie look at me."
"Dear, I talked to her while you were crying. She's very understanding, and is sorry about what happened. She also happens to be one of Ellen's friends."
"Really?"
"Yes, Dear. She was a little surprised. She has known Ellen for several years, as well as the interesting people she works with and helps. Marie has just never been so ... personally involved before."
"Well, what about the other nurses, and Chuck?"
"Matilda, I really, didn't know they were there. They came in so quietly neither Marie nor I heard them. It wasn’t until I heard one of them giggle that I realized they were there. I'm really very sorry about that."
"Oh Mom, ... I'm sorry, I thought you knew, and I was being ..." I cried, as I sat up and threw my arms around my Mother. I should have known better, Mom would never humiliate me like that. She may tease me from time to time but wouldn't ever do anything to hurt me. We stayed that way for, I don't know how long. Someone knocking on the door interrupted us. It was Marie.
"I'm sorry, but I forgot to take her vital signs when I was in before," she explained. She quickly took my temperature, pulse and blood pressure, then left.
Mom and I hugged each other for a while. "I know it's a silly thing to say, considering you've been sleeping all day, but, you need to get some rest,” Mom giggled. “I'll come and see you tomorrow dear."
Just them Marie and another nurse came in. Marie looked pale and it looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Matilda, Mrs. Covington, my name is Regina, and I’m in charge of the nurses on this floor. I want to apologize for their behavior earlier. I just heard what went on earlier. What they did was unkind, cruel and unprofessional. I can promise you that those involved will be severely reprimanded. This kind of behavior isn't tolerated here and I can promise you that it won’t happen again.”
“Thank you Regina,” Mom replied, “Please don't take this out on Marie. I know it wasn’t her fault; she was as much a victim as Matilda. Neither Marie or I heard the others sneak in.”
“You’re very understanding Mrs. Covington. I’m not so sure that I would be, were I in your place.”
“Thank you Regina, Marie, we accept your apology. It’s late and Matilda has been through a lot. Goodnight.” Mom added, almost as if giving a command. With that, they both left.
"I need to be going as well. Goodnight Matilda,” Mom said with a hug.
“Goodnight Mom," I said, as she left.
Finally Mary Beth and I were alone.
"Oh Matilda guess what? This is so exciting; you're never going to guess."
"I don't know Mary Beth; so many exciting things have happened today, I just don't know which exciting thing you're talking about."
"Well, you remember me telling you about some strange tests that I took? I took one before school started, and then another one about three weeks ago."
Of course, I knew about the tests. I just couldn't let her know that I knew, "Yes, I remember you said something about them, so what?"
"Well, Ellen says that they were to see if I would benefit from a different style of teaching. Ellen works for a private school some place north of here."
"A school? What kind of school?"
"Well, I don't know exactly. I just know that Ellen said I was just the person they were looking for. She talked to my parents today, and they said I could go. So I guess after we get out of here I'll be going ... with Ellen." Suddenly Mary Beth was sad.
"What's the matter Mary Beth?"
"I just realized, when we leave here I won't be able to see you again. At least not until I graduate, that will be eight years."
"Well, don't be sad right now, Mary Beth. We've got three days to spend together; we should make the most of them."
"Well ... I guess you're right, OK, no more being sad. Besides, I asked Ellen if you could go to that school too. She said she’d see what she could do. Wait a second, how do you know Ellen? You seem to know her pretty well."
"Well, yes I do know Ellen. Jill Morgan, my psychiatrist, recommended that Mom contact her. Ellen's the one who arranged for me to meet with lots of different people. They were the ones that taught me how to act like a girl." ‘Boy, that was close, many more questions like that and I'm going to have to write down what I tell her so I don't mix things up. Of course, everything I said was true, maybe I can pull this off after all.’
"Oh … Well, I still asked her to if you could go to the school."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and hope for the best."
About fifteen minutes later, there was a knocked on the door. It was Beca and Lizy. "Hi Beca, hi Lizy," Mary Beth greeted them. "What are you doing back here?"
"Just a small delivery so Matilda can retain a little dignity," replied Beca.
"You're too late, Beca," snickered Mary Beth. "I don't think Matilda has any dignity left.
"That's enough, Mary Beth," I said.
"What happened?" asked Beca.
Mary Beth started talking fast, trying to get it all out as fast as she could, "Well, while Matilda was unconscious, the hospital put a diaper on her, and . . ."
"Mary Beth!"
Beca came over next to my bed and whispered, "They took it off while everyone was watching, was that it?"
Shyly I nodded, "Well, some nurses and Chuck."
"Oh Matilda," Beca said as she leaned down and hugged me. "I'm so sorry; I know how much that hurt you. I've brought the underwear that Ellen promised. Should I just leave them with you, or what?"
"Beca," I whispered, "Would you put a pair on me, please?"
"Matilda, are you sure?"
"Yes, Beca, I'm sure," I said in a voice that was barely audible. "After everything I've been through, humiliation and I go hand in hand. Besides, I'm just a little handicapped right now," I said, as I held up my arms, displaying the IVs and wires.
"That you are, little sister," Beca replied with a little giggle.
"Matilda, I have to ask you a question," Beca said as she leaned down and whispered in my ear. "Would you like one pair, or two?"
I knew what her real question was. Did I want to be tucked? Two pairs meant yes, one pair meant no.
"Beca, you know that you're the only person that I trust enough to ask this of," I said softly, "I'd like two pairs, please, if you don’t mind. But would you close the door? And could Lizy take Mary Beth for a walk?"
"I understand Matilda," said Beca.
Beca did as requested. She closed the door after Lizy and Mary Beth went out. The package she'd brought contained six pairs of panties, three colored and three white. She'd placed a white pair inside the pink pair before she removed my blankets. Beca is so kind and understanding, she managed to get the panties almost to my waist before she lifted my hospital gown. Working delicately, and as discreetly as possible, Beca quickly had everything in place, before she finished pulling up the panties, snuggly.
As Beca was pulling up my blankets, I meekly smiled and said, with a tear in my eye, "Thank you, Beca."
Beca took a tissue, dried my eyes, kissed my forehead, and said, "Happy to be of service, little sister."
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," I called out.
In walked a man in a white lab coat whose nametag said only "Peter." Lizy and Mary Beth came back in as well.
"Hello Matilda, we've met before but I'm sure that you don't remember. I'm Doctor Peter Harris. I was on duty in the ER when you were brought in this morning. Can I assume that this is the first time you've tried to commit suicide?"
"And the last! I've learned since I woke up how selfish and stupid I was," I replied.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that. I just need to check you over to see how you’re doing.”
"Well, I'll say goodbye now, Matilda.” Beca smiled as she gave my hand a little squeeze. "You take care of yourself, Munchkin," Lizy added as she opened the door.
"I will Lizy, and Beca, thank you, for everything."
Beca smiled at me, blew me a kiss, and was gone.
Dr Harris checked my eyes, my heart, my lungs, then he said that he needed to look at my abdomen and that I should relax. Once again, down go the blankets and up goes the gown, at least my little embarrassment is covered.
"Oh, pink" Dr. Harris said, as he was pressing on different parts of my abdomen, "My favorite color."
"Um, mine too," I confessed, shyly.
"If I'm not mistaken," Dr. Harris added, "didn't you have a …"
"It's still there, just hiding," I said quickly.
"Well at least now you look more like a Matilda," he said as he pulled my gown down and blankets up.
“You’re not surprised?”
“No,” Dr. Harris replied. “I’ve been privileged to take care of some of Ellen’s friends before. So Matilda, now that I’ve checked you over, tell me, how do you feel?”
“Well my throat hurts a little, and I’m a little hungry.”
“Well, as for the throat hurting that’s to be expected,” replied Dr. Harris. “There was a rather large tube in there for a while this morning. The discomfort should be gone by tomorrow morning. As for being hungry, I’ll see what I can do young lady.”
“Thank you doctor,” I said, as Dr. Harris left.
A few minutes later Marie came in.
“Matilda, Dr. Harris said you were hungry, also that your throat hurt. I’m afraid that the kitchen is closed down for the night. The only thing that we have here is some ice cream. I hope that will be all right?”
“Thank you Marie, that'll be fine.”
“The doctor also said that we should remove the IVs and the sensors. He said you could go home tomorrow except that hospital policy says that we have to keep an eye on you for three days, because of what you tried to do.”
With that, Marie carefully removed the two IVs as well as the wires on my chest and the clip on my finger. I was almost free.
After eating my ice cream and talking with Mary Beth for a little while, I decided to spend some time with Mother Nature. I was so glad to be able to use the toilet. I don’t ever want to see a diaper again; well at least I don't ever want to be on the business end of one.
Well it’s almost 10:30, and the hospital is quiet. The door is propped open so the nurses can keep an eye on me. I think Mary Beth went to sleep about twenty minutes ago. I’d start re-evaluating my situation, but it’s changed so much I'm not quite sure where to start. Soon Mary Beth and I will be going to the Manor. … What a change that’s going to be. I think it will be hardest on Mary Beth, I don’t know exactly how close she is to her family, but I know that she loves them all. As for me, well yes, I’ll miss Karen and Chuck; mostly I’m going to miss Rachael. I couldn’t have asked for a better, kinder, more understanding little sister. I’m going to miss her so much. I wonder how much I'll be able to see of Mom while she is working at the Manor.
Wait a second, what’s that? Someone is crying. It sounds like it’s …
“Mary Beth,” I asked very softly, “Are you awake?” The crying stopped, but there was some sniffling. I quietly crawled out of my bed and stood next to Mary Beth’s. She was on her side, facing away from me, but I could see her body quiver slightly. I gently put my hand on her shoulder.
“Mary Beth, what’s the matter?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever been away from my Mom and Dad,” she cried softly.
I climbed onto Mary Beth’s bed. Lying on my side next to her, I put an arm around her waist. I whispered, “It’s all right Mary Beth. This is the first time I’ve been away from home as well. For the next few days, I guess we'll just have to rely on each other.”
“Well, at least we have each other,” said Mary Beth still crying. "But what will I do when you go home and I go to school?"
"Well Mary Beth," I so wanted to tell her that we'd still be together. "We don't have to cross that bridge until Thursday. I suggest that we don't worry about it until then. Goodnight Mary Beth."
"Goodnight Matilda."
The first time the nurses came in to check on me they were surprised to find me in bed with Mary Beth. I quietly explained to them that she was upset, this being her first time away from home, which they understood. I intended to return to my bed after I was sure that my moving wouldn’t wake Mary Beth. It took her about half an hour to stop crying and fall asleep. When I awoke the next morning, my arm was still around my dear friend, someone had covered me with a blanket.
I quietly slipped out of bed to go to the bathroom. Mary Beth was awake, and out of bed when I returned. "Matilda," she asked a little gruffly, "where were you?"
"Well being that I just came out of the bathroom, I'll assume that's not really the question you wanted to ask."
"It's just that when I fell asleep with your arm around me I expected to wake up with your arm around me."
I went over to give her a hug, but she turned away, pouting.
"I'm sorry! I thought that waking up without me would be better than waking up in a wet bed. Forgive me?"
Mary Beth turned back to face me, she still had her pouting face on, I almost giggled. "I don't know. How do I know that you haven't been up for hours, flirting with the other girl's?"
"Oh, come on now, you don't really think I'd be off flirting, ... well, do you?"
"Well, I don't know. You've been making some pretty poor decisions lately."
"I tell you what, tonight we'll sleep in my bed and you can keep your arm around me, okay?"
"Deal," she said with a smile, as she quickly threw her arms around me.
"Just remember, if you don't let me go to the bathroom when I need to, we could both be wearing diapers," I added jokingly.
"Well at least I wouldn't have to worry about having my diaper changed by a man," teased Mary Beth.
Just then, a young man wearing green scrubs came into our room.
"Good morning girls, I'm Steve; I'm your day nurse. Which one of you is Matilda?"
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 12
Author:
Audience Rating:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
by the Author
Chapter 12
My apologies to anyone who was offended by this chapter. It was not my intent to portray Edith as being callous or with a revengeful attitude.
When I write, I just turn my imagination loose and hang on for the ride. I’ve always had an active imagination. When I was writing chapter 11 I had about half of the chapter written when I stood back in horror at what I’d written. I’m obviously not going into the details of why but I deleted the entire chapter and started over. Sometimes my imagination goes somewhere other than where I intend. I'll have to be more careful in the future.
After I’ve completed my rewrite of this chapter, I will, of course, repost it. If anyone else has any comments about the recalled chapter, now it the time to give them to me. I'm only doing this once.
Oh yes, if you have anything nice to say that would be nice to see. As it's been stated before none of the authors here are paid, our only payment is to know that our work in enjoyed by others. I know it's human nature to complaine about the negitive and just smile and sit back when we like something. Please let the authors here know when you like their work. This series will come to a close in about 2 or 3 more chapters. I have ideas for another series floating around in my mind for a future series. The difference between leaving them floating or writing them down and posting will be determined by the comments recieved. My origional plan was to end this series with Matilda's death but the overwellming response to my story is what pushed it on. I've heard some authors comment that they will write a chapter in an afternoon or in evening. Not the case with me, it takes me several weeks to write a chapter. That's quite an investment in time, one that I may not continue if nobody likes what I'm doing.
Remember the origional Star Trek series? oh oh dating my self. It would have been cancled after the first season, and then again after the second season if it weren't for the overwhellming amount of mail recieved by NBC in favor of keeping it on the air.
Thank you for being so understanding, and of course, thank you for your comments.
Huggs & Giggles
Penny
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 13
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Hart
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 13
I looked over at Mary Beth, I thought she'd seen a ghost, or was trying to impersonate one. I couldn't keep from laughing. I finally managed to say, "I'm Matilda."
"May I ask, what's so funny?" asked Steve.
"Not now." I was still laughing. "Maybe after breakfast."
"Well Matilda, I need to check your vital signs, as well as Mary Beth’s. I’d like to start with yours. Could you hop back onto your bed for me please?"
I did as Steve asked. He was very professional about it, as he checked me over. Then he did the same with Mary Beth. As he left, he said, “I’ll be bringing in your breakfasts in about an hour.”
After Steve left, I looked back at Mary Beth. Glad to see that most of her color was back. "I didn't know they had male nurses!" she exclaimed.
I laughed, "Well obviously, they do."
"Okay, you win! You can go to the bathroom any time you want."
I was laughing uncontrollably as Ellen walked in. "What's going on in here?" she asked.
It was several minutes before I could talk without laughing. Mary Beth just took a blanket off her bed, wrapped it around herself, and sat in the rocking chair, in the corner.
I told Ellen how our night had gone, and that I'd gotten into bed with Mary Beth because she seemed so sad. Then I told her about how upset she had been when she woke up and found me gone, also the compromise we'd come up with. I went on and explained what might happen if I was kept from the bathroom too long, and that we would both suffer from the consequences and how Mary Beth had felt it wouldn't be too bad. That is, until Steve walked in and Mary Beth turned white. Ellen couldn't keep from giggling a little bit herself.
Once we'd both settled down, Ellen told us why she was there. "I received a call from Peter Harris this morning. He told me that as far as he was concerned, Matilda was healthy and could leave at any time. There is however, the little problem of why you came to the hospital in the first place. Under normal conditions, Matilda, someone who had done what you did, would have been moved to the psychiatric ward for a week of close observation. It took some fast-talking to keep you off suicide watch, young lady. My reputation is on the line here; I can't tell you how upset I'll be if you do anything to tarnish that reputation."
"Don’t worry Ellen. From now on, I'll be on my very best behavior," I solemnly promised.
"As for you, young lady," Ellen addressed Mary Beth. "All of my students are expected to bathe daily. There are no excuses for being lax when it comes to personal hygiene."
"I usually shower each morning, Ellen," Mary Beth exclaimed, in her defense. "I haven't today, because, well, we just got up. Besides, I can't shower with all this tape they put around me."
"That, My Dear, is no excuse." Ellen was quite serious, "I've arranged for your nurse to give you a sponge bath each morning, after which you will put on clean clothing. Being that you're spending the day in bed, clean nightwear will be more appropriate."
Mary Beth went white as a sheet and almost passed out when she heard, ‘your nurse,’ and ‘sponge bath.’
"As for you Matilda, as long as you're under my care, I expect the same from you, as I do my students. ‘You’ have no excuses, so into the shower with you." As Ellen finished, she picked up a small duffel bag from the foot of my bed and handed it to me.
‘When did she put that there?’
"You’ll find everything you should need inside this."
Ellen picked up a second bag, which she placed on Mary Beth's bed. "Hop up onto your bed Mary Beth. I'll go tell the nurse that you're ready."
I took my bag and quickly went into the bathroom before Ellen changed her mind about a shower and insisted I should have the pleasure of enjoying a sponge bath as well. Untying the knot at the back of my neck turned out to be a challenge, but with a little creativity, I was able to overcome that problem. I pulled my arms in through the sleeves and turned the gown around so the knot was in front and I could see it in the mirror. I spread the hospital gown on the floor, removed my wig and carefully laid it on the gown. Removing my underwear, I got into the shower. Gee, it felt good! Not as good as a bubble bath, but real good, all the same.
After a nice shower and briskly drying off, I opened the bag to discover what Ellen had brought. Ellen does think of everything. In the bag were clean panties, both the essentials, as well as the decorative. There was also a lovely camisole, a beautiful long nightgown with lace and ribbons. There was also something I wasn't familiar with. It was made of the same material as the nightgown and looked like, knee length pants, only there was lace around the bottom and elastic to hold them tightly around my legs. There was also a bow, at one point on the waistband. ‘I guess that's the front. Still guessing, I'd say they are to be worn over the panties and under the nightgown.’
So that's how I got dressed, thinking, ‘I'll ask Ellen about them later. There's something odd, yet very familiar about this nightgown, I can't quite put my finger on it, but it somehow seems familiar. Oh well, I'll remember it eventually. I wonder if they've finished with Mary Beth, I don't want her to be embarrassed by my suddenly popping out of the bathroom.’
Slowly I opened the door, just a crack and asked, "Are you decent Mary Beth?"
"Not yet!" she called out.
"Oh come now, Mary Beth. You're adequately covered. You may come out, Matilda."
‘Now what do I do? Mary Beth says no, but Ellen says yes. How can I comply with Ellen's instructions and not cause Mary Beth to be embarrassed? Ahhh!’
"Matilda," Ellen asked, "Why are you walking backwards?"
"Just following both sets of instructions," I replied. "You said it was okay to come out, but Mary Beth, on the other hand, wasn't comfortable with being seen by me. Not wanting to cause her any embarrassment, but wanting to comply with your instructions, I felt that this would be the best solution."
As I finished explaining myself, I arrived at, and climbed into my bed.
"Well Matilda. An acceptable course of action, inventive and logical," Ellen said, with a smile in her voice.
"Thank you, Matilda," added Mary Beth.
"Mary Beth, don't you think you owe Matilda an apology.”
"For what?" I could hear the puzzlement in Mary Beth’s voice.
"For yesterday evening," Ellen reminded her, "when the nurse was about to remove Matilda’s diaper. From what Edith tells me, you were disappointed when she asked you to turn away, yet now, you don’t want her to see you wrapped in bandages. By the way, Matilda, you may turn around now. Mary Beth has her nightgown on."
I turned around so I could see and talk with both Ellen and Mary Beth. As I did, I discovered two things. One, Mary Beth's nightgown was a duplicate of mine. Two, the nurse that Ellen had arranged for, was not Steve.
"Um, I guess you're right, Ellen. I wasn't thinking about Matilda's feelings," Mary Beth answered shyly. "Matilda, I'm sorry."
"That's okay, Mary Beth, I still think of you as my best friend," I gave my friend a smile, to say that all is forgiven.
The nurse had finished cleaning up after Mary Beth's bath, and left, pushing a small cart with towels and other supplies.
"Ellen," asked Mary Beth, changing the subject, "These nightgowns and bloomers are a bit old fashioned, aren't they? I'm really used to something a bit shorter."
‘That must be what those funny looking short pants are called, … bloomers!’
"Well, Mary Beth," Ellen replied. "When you get to the school you will have a variety of nightwear to choose from. Being that this is a public setting, I thought that something a bit more conservative, yet more modest than a hospital gown was called for.”
Mary Beth giggled, “You’re right, there’s nothing modest about a hospital gown! Thank you, Ellen,”
"These aren't bad, Mary Beth," I said, as I hopped down and spun around causing my nightgown to flare out, "I could get used to this, it's fun."
"Children!" Mary Beth said sarcastically, shaking her head.
"All right you two. Matilda, settle down, please." Ellen seemed to be giggling. "I have one more item for each of you." She reached into her handbag, removed a PDA, and handed it to Mary Beth saying, "I know it doesn't sound like much fun, but while you're resting, I need you to take some tests. Just open the folder ‘Exams.’ You'll find six files, one for each test. If you have any trouble finding them, I'm sure that Matilda can help you. Our 'Year A' students started last June. These tests will tell us if we need to arrange for a tutor to bring you up to the level of the other students. If you work on them for a few hours today, and then a few hours again tomorrow, you should be able to finish all of then.
"Oh, … goodie! More tests!" Mary Beth said sarcastically.
Ellen giggled, then removed a second PDA from her bag and handed it to me saying, "Besides the tests, there are some games loaded for your amusement, which I think you’ll both enjoy. Matilda, while Mary Beth is working on her tests, I would like you to go out of the room so she can concentrate." Ellen gave me a wink as she finished.
‘What is up with that?’ I wondered. "Sure thing, Ellen. I'm sure I can find something to do."
I'd turned on my PDA and was scanning through the list of games, when I discovered the folder ‘Exams.’ ‘That's it, while Mary Beth is working on her tests, I'm to be working on mine.’ I also found a file titled ‘Dear Matilda,’ ‘I wonder what that's about? Well I guess I’ll have to wait until after breakfast to look at it.’
"Well, I think that's everything," concluded Ellen, as she collected the two bags. "I won't see you two tomorrow, but I've arranged for someone to bring in clean clothing. I'll see you both on Thursday. Behave, and do what the nurses tell you," Ellen said jokingly. She knew we would behave.
"Thank you, Ellen. We will," I said.
"So long Ellen," Mary Beth added. "See you on Thursday."
"Mary Beth, just look at all the games to choose from. Some of these I've never heard of."
"What did you say Matilda?"
"I said, look at all the games."
"I'm sorry; I was looking at the tests I have to take. There's Spelling, English, Math, Science, History, and Geography. Matilda, what's Geography?"
"You remember last year, in Mrs. Chugg's class, we spent about four weeks learning about Utah?"
"I remember a little bit of it. Was that Geography?"
"Yes, that was Utah Geography. What's that asking about? Is it US Geography or World Geography?"
"It just says Geography."
"Well, US Geography is obviously the study of the United States, the different states, the capitals, their population, industries and climates, just like we learned about Utah last year. World Geography is, of course, the same thing, only on a much larger scale."
"Doesn't sound like much fun."
"Oh come on, Mary Beth! Learning about other people, along with their customs, can be exciting. I tell you what. You can recommend that they hire me to be your tutor," I said, while skimming through the games list. I opened one of my favorites, Scrabble. A screen came up with a list of possible opponents, asking me who I wanted to play against? To my surprise, the computer was not a possible opponent, there were several on the list, including Mary Beth.
"Mary Beth, you've got to see this," I was so excited, I almost jumped off my bed, rushing to show her the screen.
When she saw it, she asked, "Matilda, how do they do that?"
"Mary Beth, turn off your PDA," I requested.
As I expected, when Mary Beth turned off her PDA, her name was deleted from the list.
"Now turn it back on." As her name was again added to the list, it was clear to me that there is a wireless link between, not just our PDA'S but others as well. "This is really cool. I wonder how far I can go with these."
I shutdown the games routine and attempted to access the systems network setup. Suddenly the screen went black, and a short note appeared.
Matilda:
Do not attempt to access the networking set-up.
You may play the games, take your tests, or write
letters that will be transmitted later.
This will be your only warning. Any attempt to do
anything else and your PDA will shutdown for
thirty minutes.
I’m sorry about that, Ellen's instructions.
I'll see you on Friday.
JB
"Well, that takes all the fun out of it," I thought aloud, as I carefully backed out of the system files area. "They’re not going to let me play the way I want to. How about playing a game of Scrabble, Mary Beth?"
"Oh no, I'm not playing Scrabble with you again. You always win. I’m sure you make up some of those words you use."
"Mary Beth, are you accusing me of cheating?"
"Well, ... No"
"I only use words that are in the dictionary. You can look up anything you want. Besides, I'm sure that these won't let me use any words that aren't real."
"Oh, all right Matilda, I’ll play with you, but just until breakfast gets here."
Ten minutes later, Steve brought in our breakfasts. He didn't know it, but he’d just saved Mary Beth, from me beating her again. It wasn't that I was trying to win; I was only ahead by sixty-two points, this time. After all, it's not as if it’s my fault. I simply learned to read before most of my friends did. Can I help it that when they were reading Dr. Seuss, I was being entertained by the works of Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, and of course, Arthur Conan Doyle. ‘Thinking of Doyle, I wonder if I can get my books before going to the Manor? Ellen said that we aren't to take anything with us, and we'll be going there straight from the hospital. Oh well, all I can do is ask’.
"Hey Matilda," called out Mary Beth, "You've been real quiet during breakfast, what’s up?"
"Oh nothing. I was just thinking about how I've always been able to win at Scrabble. Where I learn all the words that I use? I guess Mom had the more to do with it, because of the books she used to read to me, but then, so have the books I’ve read, since I started reading."
"Well, I guess there’s some benefit to being an egghead, as Bart puts it," she giggled.
"Yes, but compared to Bart, even your brother Jeffrey is an egg head," I quickly added.
"Well, that doesn't say much for Bart, considering that Jeffrey is only five," she giggled again.
"Right! As I see it, Bart will end up in one of two places, either as a left tackle for some football team, because he's big and mean; or in jail, because he's so stupid he thinks he'll never be caught."
"You’re right, Matilda. The question is which would be better for Bart? Which would be better for the rest of the world? Oh well, I'm finish with my breakfast. I guess I'd better get started on these tests," Mary Beth grumbled, as she pushed her tray aside and picked up her PDA.
"Okay, I'll get out of here so you can think. Maybe there's a nurse I can flirt with, or maybe ... there's a five year old that I can rough up," I said with an evil, yet sarcastic chuckle.
"Well, have fun! But if I were you, I'd stick to flirting with the nurses. The five year old will probably kick your butt," said Mary Beth, teasing me right back.
"Oh thanks a lot! … You sure know how to build up a girl’s ego," I moaned as I grabbed my PDA and left.
I found myself a chair in a quiet corner and took out my PDA. I first opened the ‘Dear Matilda’ file.
Dear Matilda
By now, I'm sure you've found the notice from JB.
Don't be upset with her, as she was following
my instructions. Until our system administrator,
RJ, has been able to spend some time with you,
evaluating your abilities, you are still under a
limited access order.
In the mean time, I'm sure that we'll be able to
find enough things around the school to keep you
challenged. For example - you and Mary Beth will
be arriving three days before our annual
Halloween ball. This is a costume ball, but we
don't use any of those silly costumes you find at
your local stores. You'll both have access to the
many costumes available from our drama department.
Be thinking about what you'd like to dress up as.
Historical characters are usually popular.
Because of your size, your choices may be limited,
but remember, it isn't the costume that counts, but
the amount of creativity involved. How you
approach the subject with Mary Beth, is up to you,
but you need to get her thinking about a costume
without letting on that the two of you will be
together.
I said I would have some challenges for you.
Have fun!
See you Thursday;
Ellen.
‘Well, that's not what I expected. So now I have three challenges. One, Get Mary Beth thinking about a Halloween costume. Two, Don't let her know that I'll be with her at school. And Three, figure out how to get through the lockout on this PDA. Oh well, first things first, I'd better get started on these tests.’
I quickly breezed through the Spelling, English and History. The math slowed me down though. It started out easy enough, and then the problems got more complex. The more I did the more complex they became. I got to a point where I'm sure my answers were wrong. Then several formulas appeared on the screen, and after studying them, I realized my mistakes on the prior questions. I also knew that the wireless connection on these PDA's were somehow linked to the school’s systems and that they were monitoring the tests live, altering them as I went, challenging me more at each turn. After I'd gone back and corrected the problems I had wrong, it was time to find out just what type of wireless link I had in my hand. ‘Does it send when I press 'Next'? Or is my screen being mirrored to another screen?’
I thought I'd try something a little different, so I entered,
"1 = A, 2 = B, … 26 = Z" Quickly followed by,
(THANK)
25, 15, 21
(YOU)
13, 18, 13
(MRM)
I didn't press next, I just waited. I was shocked that it took over ten minutes before I received a reply. I laughed so loud when the reply finally appeared on my screen, that one of the nurses asked me to be quiet. The screen had gone blank before the reply message was displayed. It read,
(CLEVER)
7, 9, 18, 12
(GIRL)
5, 8.
(EH)
After going back to the math problems and completing another dozen or so, I'd decided that I'd had enough for one day. When the next screen came up, I entered the following message
(ENOUGH)
6, 15, 18
(FOR)
15, 14, 5
(ONE)
4, 1, 25.
(DAY.)
8, 15, 23
(HOW)
4, 9, 4
(DID)
9
(I)
4, 15?
(DO?)
As I waited for a response, I wondered if Mary Beth's PDA was set up the same way. I was also wondering how to approach the subject of Halloween costumes.
The response finally came,
(YOU)
4, 9, 4
(DID)
22, 5, 18, 25
(VERY)
23, 5, 12, 12.
(WELL.)
5, 12, 12, 5, 14
(ELLEN)
9, 19
(IS)
3, 15, 14, 6, 21, 19, 5, 4.
(CONFUSED.)
4, 15, 5, 19
(DOES)
14, 15, 20
(NOT)
11, 14, 15, 23
(KNOW)
23, 8, 1, 20
(WHAT)
20, 15
(TO)
4, 15
(DO)
23, 9, 20, 8
(WITH)
25, 15, 21.
(YOU.)
Of course, I had to reply with,
(TELL)
8, 5, 18
(HER)
20, 8, 1, 20
(THAT)
1
(A)
8, 21, 7
(HUG)
23, 15, 18, 11, 19.
(WORKS.)
2, 1, 3, 11
(BACK)
20, 15, 13, 15, 18, 18, 15, 23.
(TOMORROW)
13, 18, 13
(MRM)
Their responses were starting to come quicker,
(SEE)
25, 15, 21
(YOU)
20, 8, 5, 14
(THEN
13, 21, 14, 3, 8, 11, 9, 14.
(MUNCHKIN.)
I excitedly entered,
(BECA?)
The response came back,
(NO)
I had to ask,
(LIZY)
The response to that was,
(YES)
I chuckled to myself as I turned off my PDA and went back to the room, to check on Mary Beth's progress. "So how are you doing?" I asked as I entered the room.
"Oh Matilda, you know I hate taking tests. I think the only question I got right was my name, but that's only because they didn’t asked for my name."
"Oh come now, Mary Beth, I'm sure you didn't do that bad. I tell you what. After lunch we can go over them together."
"Thanks, that would be great."
Lunch was uneventful; I mean, what can you say about hospital food. Yes, it would keep a starving girl alive, but gourmet food, it isn't.
Mary Beth and I spent several hours going over the testing she had done that morning. She had done well with the Spelling and the English. Her biggest problem appeared to be with the Math. With paper and pencils from the nurses we went over problems similar to those on her test. As she understood what she was doing wrong with the problems I was giving her, she went back and corrected the test answers.
Somewhere throughout the course of the afternoon I realized something, ‘I'm stupid! After I figured out that my PDA screen was being mirrored to the Manor, I didn't need to continue to send messages in code. All I needed to do was open a 'Notes' page, and switch back and fourth. Gee, I hate it when I'm stupid.’
While Mary Beth and I were eating dinner, I turned on my PDA opened a blank note page and keyed in the following;
Message for Ellen Hansen,
Ellen, what would be the chances of me
retrieving two books from home before
going to the Manor Thursday morning?
Huggs,
Matilda
I set it down, leaving it on, while I finish my dinner.
"What are you doing, Matilda," asked Mary Beth.
"Oh nothing much, just a little experiment, I won't know how it turns out until tomorrow," I replied, picking up the PDA. I then found the system statues files and accessed the battery level indicator, seeing 40%. I left that screen displaying for about a minute before returning to the main screen and shutting down the PDA. Assuming that someone was always monitoring my activities anytime I was on-line, both messages should be relayed to Ellen, the request for my books, and the need for a charging station.
After dinner, Mary Beth and I were talking when Mom came in, followed by Rachael, Karen and Chuck.
"Hi guys! What's new in the real world," I asked as they came in.
"Well, just look at the two of you," Karen teased. "Just like a couple of princesses, being waited on hand and foot. You’re even dressed as sisters in matching nightgowns."
"Oh, Karen, it's not like that at all," I replied.
Mom turned to Mary Beth asking, "Tell me Mary Beth, does someone bring your meals on a tray with covers over the food?"
"Um, yes Mrs. C."
"And do they come in to take away your dishes and tray when you're finished?"
"Yes Mrs. C," she agreed again.
"And were not clean clothes delivered to you this morning, by someone of importance?"
"Correct again, Mrs. C."
"Matilda, was there, or was there not, a promise of clean clothing to be delivered tomorrow morning?"
"Yes Mom, there was a promise of clean clothes," I had to agree.
"Well Karen, I don't know about you, but to me it sounds like a description of two princesses being waited on," Mom concluded with a smile.
"I knew it! You did this just to get out of school," Karen was joking, with her hands on her hips.
"Oh, come on, Karen! There's easier ways of getting out of school."
As Mom looked at me with that, 'What did you just say?' look, I realized that maybe I’d said a little too much. "I think we need to have a little talk young lady," she said sternly.
The room was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
"So, Rachael," asked Mary Beth, changing the subject, "What went on at school today?"
"There were lots of rumors going around, because of Matilda being gone yesterday and both of you gone today. Adding to the rumors, a bunch of kids saw Bart beating you up yesterday. Some are thinking that you're home. Some say you're in a hospital. A few even say you're dead."
"How did that rumor get started?" I asked.
"It probably had something to do with the fact that Mrs. Roberts was overhead talking to Mary Beth's Mother on the phone. They heard that the family is not moving, but that Mary Beth will not be going to school at Whittier anymore."
"Rachael, you didn't say anything, did you?" I asked.
"Oh course not! It's more fun listening to all the wild rumors than telling them what's really happening," she giggled.
"What are they saying about me?" I inquired.
"Well," Rachael continued, "Mostly everyone thinks that you're sick again, like when school started. Four of your friends did come to me during lunch today and asked how you're doing. I smiled and could honestly answer that you were doing a lot better today than you were yesterday."
"Yes,” I giggled. “I would agree that I'm doing better today, than I was yesterday.”
Everyone chuckled at that, agreeing that yesterday had indeed been trying for everyone.
As I was talking with my family, I asked how things were going at home, Chuck's baseball practice, Karen learning to do the laundry, ... I noticed that Mary Beth was somewhat quiet. In fact, the longer we talked, the more upset she seemed to be.
As my family was leaving, I finally realized what Mary Beth's problem was. "Mary Beth, I'm going to walk my Mom to the elevator."
"Just stay where the nurses can see you," she reminded me, she sounded somewhat bitter, which I understood.
As soon as Mom and I couldn't be overhead by Mary Beth, I stopped her, letting the others continue to the elevators. "Mom, can you do me a favor?'
"You want me to bring you something when we come see you tomorrow?"
"Well, sort of ... what I'd like you to bring is really for Mary Beth."
"And just what would that be?"
"Could you bring some of her family?"
"Matilda, what are you talking about?"
"Mom, didn't you notice how sad she looked while everyone was in there? Mom, as I understand it, Mary Beth went to our house after Bart attacked her."
"Yes, that's correct."
"She stayed there while Ellen talked to her parents, and then she was brought here. Mom, Mary Beth will be going straight to the Manor when she leaves here. She’ll never have a chance to say goodbye to any of her family. When you bring Karen, Chuck, and Rachael to see me, it reminds her of what she's missing."
"I see what you mean, Matilda. I'll see what I can do."
"Mom, this is the hardest part. If you can't get her family to come see her, then please ... don't come and see me."
"What?"
"Mom, it just isn't fair to her. I'm going to miss all of you, but if Mary Beth's family won't come to see her, then I should be treated the same." Sadly I hung my head.
"I understand. Matilda. How did you get to be so kind and understanding?"
"Well, I don't think I got it from Dad." I giggled, as I looked up into her eyes.
"You’re probably right there. Do you want to come over to the elevators and say goodbye?"
"Oh Mom, I'd really like that, but I think not. If Mary Beth's family comes tomorrow to say goodbye to her, then I'll have a chance to say goodbye to Rachael, Karen and Chuck. If not, well, you can say goodbye to both families, for both of us."
As I turned to return to my room, Mom grabbed my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. Nothing more was said, as she turned to leave.
"Why are you so sad, Matilda," asked Mary Beth as I entered the room.
I didn't respond to her question. How could I, without telling her more than I should. I simply crawled onto Mary Beth's bed, hugged my friend, and started crying softly. Telling Mom, ‘Don't come and see me!’ was definitely on the list of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
After I'd calmed down, I remembered that I had an assignment from Ellen. "Mary Beth, Halloween is next Sunday. How are you planning to dress up?"
"What!"
"I asked how you're planning to dress up for Halloween."
"Matilda, I'm going to that private school on Thursday. I don't know what they do for Halloween, or even if they do anything at all."
"I know that, Mary Beth. I'm just trying to pass the time. Just for fun, pretend you and I were going to be together for Halloween. How would you like to dress up?"
"Matilda, you're crazy."
"Of course I am ... that's why you love me. So, should we dress up in the same costumes to confuse people, or should we be different?"
"Matilda, you're nuts. We aren't going to be together for Halloween."
"Oh, come … on … Mary Beth! Just play along, it'll be fun. We could go as Hansel and Gretel. I'll be Gretel, and you can be Hansel."
"Hold it right there, Matilda! There's no way you're getting me to dress up as a boy!"
‘Well, I finally have Mary Beth thinking about what she doesn't want to be. Now all I have to do is turn that around to get her thinking about what she would like.’
"I know, we could go as Cinderella's ugly step sisters, although I don't know how either one of us could be ugly."
"Forget that idea! I don't do ugly! I could be Little Miss Muffet, she's cute."
"What about me?"
Mary Beth giggled, "You can be the spider."
"Oh come now, Mary Beth, I'm not that small, … although ... I guess if I was dressed all in black and added two stuffed arms on each side, hum. ... That has possibilities. What about Alice in Wonderland, I could be Alice, and you could be the Queen of Hearts."
"What did I tell you about anything ugly?"
"Well, who says that the Queen of Hearts has to be ugly?"
"You're right; nobody says the queen has to be ugly. Hum ... I could do a Queen, I'll think about that one.” Then she laughed, “I've got it, I'll be Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz, and you can be ... You can be a Munchkin."
"Why don't I be Dorothy, and you can be Toto?"
"That won't work; I'm too big to fit in your basket. We could dress simply as a mother with a baby, you could wear a short frilly dress that shows off some frilly rumba panties over a huge diaper," she giggled.
"You can forget that idea, right now! I'm not putting on a diaper for anyone. The frills aren't a problem for me, but no diaper. Here's an idea! I could arrange for Bart to come here and beat you up some more, then you could go as an accident victim."
"Oh, that's funny, ha, ha ... NOT!"
"You know I'm only teasing, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, Mary Beth," I reinforced my sincerity with a hug. "We did come up with several good ideas. I think that Alice and the Queen of Hearts is the best."
"I don't know, I like the thought of pinning you into a really thick cloth diaper."
"You're joking, right?"
Giggle, "Of course I am, Matilda. I wouldn't do anything to hurt or embarrass you. That isn’t what friends do to each other. I do, however, reserve the right to tease you from time to time. As for the diaper, I'd have Beca pin it on you," she snickered.
"Oh, Mary Beth. … You're impossible! Give me a hug, you silly girl." Mary Beth winced in pain as I hugged her. ‘I’ve noticed that it’s been getting worse.’
Just then, Dr. Harris came in, "Good evening, ladies. How are we today?"
"We're doing great," Mary Beth replied.
"That good, I hate to break things up, but just for fun, Matilda, would you jump back into your bed so I can check you over."
"No problem," I smiled, as I got down, changing beds.
"That's a lovely nightgown," Dr. Harris commented. "It does create a small problem, though."
"What problem is that?" inquired Mary Beth.
"It's going to be a little difficult to examine her abdomen," Dr. Harris explained to Mary Beth. "I see that I'm going to have the same problem with you."
"What do you mean, with me?"
"I was asked to check on you, since I would be here to check on Matilda," Dr. Harris explained. "Dr Williams took care of you when you came in, but with you two sharing a room, it was felt that I could check on both of you."
"Well, that's not such a big problem," I said, as I lifted my nightgown off, over my head, then hopped onto my bed. After all, I was adequately covered, with the bloomers and camisole.
"Well, nothing wrong with you that something other than hospital food won't fix," Dr. Harris chuckled, after he'd finished. "You can put your nightgown back on, Matilda."
"Well now, Mary Beth, your turn," Dr. Harris said as he washed his hands. "Could you remove your nightgown, please?"
Mary Beth started to stammer; I knew what she was trying to say. "Just a second," I mumbled, as I was pulling my nightgown over my head. "Mary Beth is a little uncomfortable undressing in front of me. I'll just step out and flirt with a nurse." I giggled as I opened the door.
"Thank you, Matilda." I heard Mary Beth say as the door closed.
I waited just outside the door. After what I guessed to be about the needed amount of time, I knocked. "Just a minute!" I heard Mary Beth call out. A minute later she called out, "Come in."
Mary Beth seemed sad, as I went back into the room.
"Mary Beth, what's the matter?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing, my ribs are still very tender."
"Yes, quite," Dr. Harris emphasized. "If I understand correctly, young lady, you will be going with Ellen Hansen when you leave here?"
"Yes, that's right."
"That's fine," Dr. Harris, continued. "I'll inform her that you are to be on restricted activity for the next six weeks. The tape can be removed next Tuesday and replaced with an elastic bandages. Those can be removed so you can bathe. You'll need to wear the elastic bandages for four weeks. After that you'll just have to take it easy, do you understand all of that?"
"Yes Dr. Harris," Mary Beth said sadly. "It means being punished with itching and sponge baths, until next Tuesday."
"Mary Beth," I said, "Don't think of it as being a punishment. Think of the reward you'll get after the tape comes off."
"Matilda, what are you talking about?"
"Think of it this way. You have to put up with some itching, but Tuesday night you can relax in a nice long bubble bath."
Dr Harris chuckled at my last remark.
"Oh Matilda, you're impossible!" exclaimed Mary Beth.
"Thank you," I replied as I curtsied.
"I'll see you two tomorrow evening," Dr. Harris said while laughing. "You girls behave yourselves."
"We will," we both said. "Thank you, doctor." I added.
I got back into my bed as we continued to chat for a while. Mary Beth was showing no signs of being tired. On the other hand, I was fighting to stay awake. I finally couldn't fight it any more as, I slid down under the blankets and mumbled, "Good night, Mary Beth."
I heard, "Good night, Matilda," followed by a rustling from Mary Beth's bed.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 14
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Hart
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 14
The next morning I woke up early to find Mary Beth snuggled up next to me, with an arm around my waist. ‘I don't remember her getting into bed with me, but this is nice to wake up to. I wonder how long I will be able to lay here and enjoy the warmth and security of being in her arms.’
‘Darn! … not long enough.’ I tried thinking about other things, what my future will bring, could Mom talk Mary Beth's family into visiting, everything except the ever increasingly persistent call from Mother Nature. Eventually I started fidgeting, trying to maintain a little more control.
Of course, this woke, Mary Beth, "What's the matter?" she mumbled, still half asleep.
"Um, I need to ..." was all I got out.
Mary Beth immediately removed her arm and actually started pushing me out of bed. "Well if you need to go, then go, and be quick about it."
I giggled, grabbed my PDA and quickly went into the bathroom to commune with Mother Nature. 'I doubt anyone will be monitoring this early in the morning. Let's see, just for fun I think I'll try knocking on the front door.’ "Start, System, Connection, WLAN, Configuration ...” And a black screen. ‘Well, so much for the front door approach. Oh well, I'm not going to sit here for 30 minutes, waiting.'
I left the bathroom to discover that Mary Beth was still in bed. When she saw me emerge from the bathroom, she smiled as she lifted the blankets, "It's too early to be up. Get back into bed."
Who am I to argue with a command like that? With a smile on my face, I jumped back into bed. I was again enveloped by Mary Beth's loving arms, quickly falling asleep. I’m not sure how long it was before I woke, hearing … "Ahh, Hmm."
I slowly opened my eyes to see the face of a young lady smiling at me.
"You must be Matilda," she whispered. I smiled and slowly nodded. "And, of course, that's Mary Beth sleeping next to you. Starting early, aren't you?"
She read the question in my eyes and answered, "Sleeping in each others arms."
I moved my index finger to my lips, "Shh, she doesn't know," I whispered.
"Doesn't know what?" mumbled Mary Beth.
I rolled over so I could look into Mary Beth's sleeping face, "Know that it's time to get up, sleepy head," I said with a smile.
"What time is it?" Mary Beth moaned as her eyes started to flicker, attempting to open.
"It’s almost 8:00, Mary Beth," replied the unknown young lady. "When do you normally get up?"
Upon hearing her name and an unknown voice, Mary Beth was instantly awake. "Who are you?"
With a giggle and smile she answered, "Good Morning, I'm Suzanne, you may call me Suzy. Ellen asked me to come see how you’re doing. I've brought your clean clothes, as well as charging stations for your PDA's."
I smiled to myself. ‘Well, that answers one of my questions. I'm indeed being monitored any time my PDA is on. I wondered about this morning?’
"Oh, goodie! … another sponge bath," grumbled Mary Beth.
"Sorry about that, Mary Beth," Suzy apologized. "On the other hand, if you don't want one of the nurses helping you, I'd be happy to help you with your bath, or perhaps Matilda would be willing to assist you." When Suzy winked at me as she finished; I realized that I was to play along.
"That's OK, a nurse will be just fine," Mary Beth replied quickly.
"Mary Beth, I'm sure that Matilda would be happy to assist you, wouldn't you Matilda?"
"Of course, it would be an honor to help you, dear friend," I said as I reached for the button at the back of Mary Beth's nightgown.
"Matilda! Stop! What are you trying to do?"
“Mary Beth, I’m just going to help you take off your nightgown, so I can give you a sponge bath. Now hold still, so I can undo this button,” I teased.
“OH NO YOU’RE NOT!” she screeched, slapping my hands away.
I pulled my hand back quickly, as if I’d really been hurt, and put on my best sad face; I even tried to force a tear. “But, Mary Beth,” I said, trying to look like my best friend had stabbed me in the heart.
Mary Beth just as suddenly stopped protesting. “Oh Matilda, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said as she hugged me to apologize, “Ouch.” ‘There she goes again, every time she hugs me or I hug her, she cringes in pain.’
I hugged her back, very gently of course, before saying, “Mary Beth, … You didn’t hurt me, and I was just teasing about helping you with your bath. I know that it would embarrass you, and I wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh Matilda!” she exclaimed while pushing me away. “What am I going to do with you?”
Suzy broke into laughter at seeing how I'd taken the lead she’d given me and run with it. Ellen had obviously briefed her.
“Well, being that you just hugged, me I won’t ask for a hug, but a good morning might be nice.”
“Oh, … Good morning. Now go get into the shower before I arrange for ‘you’ to get a sponge bath.”
I hopped off the bed. Suzy, who was still laughing, handed me a bag which I assumed contained the clean clothes Ellen had promised. Just before I closed the bathroom door I asked with a giggle, “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you with your bath, Mary Beth?”
“Matilda!” exclaimed Mary Beth. I giggled as I closed the door, stopping a pillow in mid-flight.
Quickly undressing, I and took a long, leisurely shower, taking more time than I had the day before, just to give the nurse and Mary Beth extra time.
Besides the necessary panties, there was a pair of simply beautiful purple silk panties with a matching camisole. Instead of a nightgown, there were some very nice purple pajamas with white edging all around. ‘There is something so familiar about them, I know I’ve seen them somewhere before, I just can’t put my finger on where. Oh, this is driving me crazy, first the nightgowns, now the pajamas. Oh, where have I seen them before?’ In the bottom of the bag was a note:
Matilda,
New message, check PDA.
Ellen.
What now? I can’t be in trouble, I haven’t tried anything creative ... at least not yet. It must be another assignment, another secret for me to keep from Mary Beth.
I opened the door a crack as I’d done the day before and called out, “Are you ready Mary Beth?”
“Ready,” she called out.
As I emerged, I noticed that once again, we were wearing matching nightwear. "Well, Mary Beth, what do you think of these pajamas? They're nice, aren't they?"
"They're okay I guess. They'd be better if you cut the legs off above the knees and if you took off the sleeves."
"You're sure hard to please, Mary Beth," I giggled.
Suzy whispered in my ear, "Watch out Matilda, it looks like your study partner has a thing for showing off."
"Just her legs," I whispered back, while giggling.
"All right, last minute instructions," said Suzy to both of us "Your PDA's are charging, they need to stay on the chargers for two hours. You can use them during that time, as long as they stay plugged in. Ellen will be here tomorrow morning, Mary Beth. She'll be taking you to the school, so I guess I'll see you at the ball on Sunday. Matilda, it was a pleasure to meet you. Good luck with your … future challenges."
"Suzy, what did you mean when you said you'd see me at the ball on Sunday?" asked Mary Beth.
"Oh, didn't Ellen tell you? Sunday is our annual Halloween ball. This year I'm going as Lady Godiva."
"You're going to the ball naked?" I asked in surprise.
"Of course not! I'm wearing a one-piece, flesh colored, leotard and a very long wig. It should give the illusion of being naked, if you don't look too close, that is," Suzy said with a smile.
"For a second, I was worried," exclaimed Mary Beth.
"Oh, there’s nothing to worry about. It's been made very clear as to what's acceptable. If Ellen, or any of the staff, thinks your costume is too revealing, they'll take you down to wardrobe and select a new costume for you."
"How often does that happen?" I asked.
"It's never happened, well, not while I've been there. Along with everything else, we're taught that modesty and self respect go hand in hand."
"What does Ellen think of your Lady Godiva costume?" I asked.
"I have an appointment with her this afternoon. If she says no, then I'll come up with something else. It just wouldn't be right for the leader of 'Year H' to set a poor example. Anyway, I have to run; if I hurry, I can be back in time for lunch. Be good, you two." With that, Suzy picked up the two bags and left.
"Well, it sounds like you will need a Halloween costume after all, Mary Beth. How about going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi. Remember, when she was chained to Jabba," I giggled.
"It's a good thing you won't be there Matilda. If you were, I'd talk to Ellen and arrange for you to be diapered, just because you're being so mean."
"But, Mary Beth, I'm not being mean, am I?"
"No, of course you're not. I'm just teasing again," she said with a reassuring smile, and her arms out. I quickly hopped onto her bed to receive and return a hug, ‘ouch.’
Breakfast came and went; we continued discussing costume ideas until the charging lights on our PDA's went off. Then Mary Beth started in on her tests and I went back to the chair in the waiting area. After I'd turned on my PDA, I discovered a new symbol at the top of the screen, a closed envelope. I touched it and an E-mail inbox screen appeared, indicating one unread message. Of course, I touched on the message to open it.
Matilda;
As I told you, the school provides everything
you'll need. You therefore will not be able to
bring any of your books from home.
If I understand correctly, you arrived at the
hospital wearing your blue party dress, and
therefore you will be wearing it when you arrive
at the Manor. Being that you wore that dress
here before, I've arranged for you to keep it.
I'm sorry about your books. I'm sure that you
have quite a library.
See you later.
Ellen.
‘Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected, but on the other hand Ellen did arrange for me to keep my dress because it had been there before. I think a carefully worded reply is in order.’
Ellen;
Thank you for allowing me to keep my lovely
party dress. I'm sure that obtaining permission
to alter the rules isn't easy.
Being that you've been able to make an exception
for my dress because it has been at the Manor
before, I was hoping that the same consideration
would apply to two of my books. Of all the books
in my library, I would like to be able to keep the
two I was given when I was at the Manor before.
'The Christmas Box' that Miss Baker gave to me
as well as 'The Complete Sherlock Holmes' that I
received from Mr. Peterson.
I know that I'm asking a lot, but I have to ask.
The worst thing they can say is, no.
Thank you for everything you've done for me.
I'll see you Thursday.
Huggs
Matilda
With that sent, I began once again on the testing. Geography presented a few challenges as it dealt mostly with the small third world countries. Science was also challenging, and took more time than I'd expected. As I finished with the science portion and closed the file, I noticed that another test file had been added, Computer Science. As it was almost time for lunch, I thought I'd have a little fun with whoever was monitoring me this morning. I opened a new note screen,
Another test?
Don't I get a break?
After only a minute or so, my screen was blanked and a reply appeared.
What do you call sleeping all day Monday, Work?
What about yesterday afternoon? Your PDA was off
while Mary Beth was still working on her tests.
So come on girl, stop complaining and get busy.
Your lunch won't be there for about another hour.
Now I know that Mary Beth's PDA is being monitored, probably to make sure that I don't access its network configuration. Oh well, at least there was no mention of this mornings experiment. As far as they know, I’m playing nice and following the rules. Not as much fun as skirting around them, but for now I’ll let them think I'll be a good girl, at least for the most part. On the other hand, they can't call me lazy; a new message is called for.
For the record, yesterday afternoon I was working,
I was helping Mary Beth. We went over all of her
tests and I helped her where she'd made mistakes.
Look at her math test from before lunch and then
again after.
All right, I opened the file and started on computer science. I was confused by most of the questions. ‘I can usually work my way around code and get things to do what I want, but I didn't really know the proper names for the different types of hardware. Eventually, I’d had enough, and was ready to call it a morning.’ As I was about to shut down I noticed that the envelope icon had reappeared.
Matilda
Those two books might be considered an exception
to the rules. I'm not sure. I did pass your request
on. Only time will tell. It may be a few days
before a decision is made, as things are a little
hectic around here, what with the Halloween, ball
in four days and a field trip between Thanksgiving
and Christmas. I hope you and Mary Beth like to
sing.
Enjoy your time off; you'll be busy once you get
here.
Ellen
‘Well it looks like there will never be a dull moment at the Manor. I guess it's time to see how Mary Beth is doing with her geography.’ After lunch, we again went over Mary Beth's work. She'd actually done much better than she thought.
We played games and talked until Marie brought in dinner. She apologized again for not being more forceful about chasing everyone out of the room on Monday evening. I assured her that I wasn’t angry with her and that everything was fine. She had chased everyone out, and hadn't realized until it was too late, that the others had snuck back in.
Marie still felt bad about it and apologized yet again. She is really such a nice person. How could I be upset with her?
As the evening progressed and we had no visitors, I started to become sad and eventually even a little depressed. It was well past the time when Mom had come to visit the day before, but there wasn't any sign of them coming tonight. I wasn't sad for myself, because I knew I'd see Mom tomorrow, she'd be taking me to the Manor. I was sad for Mary Beth; I just couldn't tell her why I was sad. I knew it meant that Mom hadn’t been able to get any of her family to come see her. Mary Beth's mother must really have a problem with her being friends with me. I decided that someday I'd have to tell her why Mom didn't come tonight. I'll talk it over with Ellen first; just to see what she thinks.
I was getting tired and ready to go to bed when Dr. Harris came in, "Good evening, ladies. How are you today?"
"I'm doing pretty good, I guess, except for this tape," answered Mary Beth. "It doesn't itch anymore, now it hurts all around. And Matilda has been depressed and gloomy all evening."
"Really? Well, we'll take a look and see why it hurts in just a minute, Matilda, what seems to be the problem?" Dr Harris asked.
"Oh, I'm just sad because my Mother wasn't able to come in tonight," I lied. ‘Well, it isn't really a lie. After all, I can't tell Dr. Harris the whole truth. I don’t think he would understand. I also can't let Mary Beth know the truth, at least not yet. Keeping secrets can sure be a pain, I'll be glad when we get to the Manor and there won't be any more secrets between Mary Beth and me.’
"You're sure that's all? Nothing else troubling you?" he asked. I could tell that he really cared. I think he suspected I wasn't being one hundred percent honest.
"Yes, I'm sure," forcing a smile.
"Well, if you say so. Just the same, I think I'll ask the nurses to keep a closer watch tonight, just to be on the safe side."
"That won't be necessary, Dr. Harris," giggled Mary Beth. "I'll keep an eye on Matilda, just like I did last night. Matilda isn't going to do anything she shouldn't, at least as long as I am with her."
I couldn't help myself, as I giggled. 'If you only knew how long that's going to be, dear friend,’ "Is that what you were doing? Keeping an eye on me? It was more like keeping an arm on me, wasn't it?"
"Well, maybe it was, but there was no way you could have done anything without me knowing about it. Believe me, Dr. Harris, Matilda WILL, behave herself."
Dr Harris looked at the two of us strangely, as if we were trying to sell him the Brooklyn Bridge. We both laughed at the look he was giving us, until we told him about last night, as well as the night before.
"Well, I can see that you two are obviously good friends. It also explains the note in both your files."
"What note?" I asked.
"Well, normally the nursing staff here wouldn't allow the two of you to sleep in the same bed. There was a note placed in your files, when you were admitted. As I remember it, it says something about being permitted to sleep together, if needed as comfort for homesickness. It's signed, Ellen Hansen. So I guess that Matilda will be in good hands, or at least … in good arms."
After we stopped laughing at Dr. Harris's joke, I started to remove my pajama top.
"Oh, that's all right Matilda, you don't need to undress. I don't need to look at your abdomen tonight. In fact, I'm not here to check on you at all. Physically you're doing just fine. I'm just here to check on Mary Beth's ribs one last time before she leaves in the morning."
I hopped off my bed as I re-buttoned my pajama top. "I guess that means it's time for me to do some flirting with the nurses." I giggled as I headed for the door.
"Matilda!" Mary Beth called softly.
"Yes, Mary Beth?"
"Um, you don't have to leave."
"Mary Beth, are you sure?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes," she said timidly. "I've seen you without clothes so many times, because of Bart. It does seem silly for me to be nervous about you seeing my back, being that it's wrapped in tape."
"Well, … if you say so." I wasn't sure she really meant it, knowing that she had always been embarrassed to undressed with me around. I decided on what I thought to be an appropriate course of action. I got back onto my bed as Mary Beth was taking off her top. "I'll stay, but that doesn't mean I have to look in your direction. I'll just play with my PDA."
Oh yes, I kept myself busy. 'I'll try this again,’ "Power on, Start, System, Connection, WLAN, Wireless power - Off." ‘OK I still have a display. With the wireless power off, they won't be able to monitor what I'm doing. All right now,’ "Configuration" and ... A black screen. Now I knew that the shutdown wasn't being triggered remotely; they must have added code to the operating system. ‘Wait a second, if it's off, how can it be timing? It must still be on, only with a blank screen. The timer must run for thirty minutes and then the system will shut itself off, so I can turn it on again. If I turn it, off and then back on ... Nothing! If I take out the battery, that should stop any program that's running and do a hard reboot when it goes back in. Bingo! Back up with only a few minutes lost.’ That answered several questions but not all of them. As I was experimenting with my PDA, I couldn't help but overhear what was going on in the next bed.
"OK Mary Beth, we'll do this the same as yesterday. You put your hands on your head. I'll put one hand on your back to hold you stable, and then I’ll press gently on your ribs with my other hand. You tell me where it hurts."
"Ouch. Oh, that hurts."
"Mary Beth, I know that your back was tender yesterday. Are you telling me that it hurts worse today?"
"Yes," Mary Beth whimpered. "It hurts anywhere you touch."
"Does this hurt?"
"No."
"How about if I apply pressure here?"
"No."
"What about here?"
"AAWW"
"I'll take that as a yes. What about here?"
"OUCH!"
"Try to hold still please, I want to have a look under the tape."
"Ouch. Ohh. Aaww." It was plain to me that Mary Beth was in a lot of pain. It took a lot for me to keep my word and not look at my friend, who was now crying.
"Mary Beth, it appears that you're having an allergic reaction to the adhesive on this tape. Matilda, would you press the nurse call button for me please?" I quickly did as he asked.
A few moments later Marie came in, "Is there a problem in here?" she asked.
"Yes, Marie, yes, we need to get this tape off Mary Beth. She appears to be allergic to the adhesive. We'll need some Benadryl cream, two 'Tylenol 3 with Codeine' and about six, long, elastic bandages."
"Certainly, Doctor, I'll be right back." Marie left quickly. Moments later I heard Dr. Harris start to remove the tape from Mary Beth.
"I have to apologize for not noticing this yesterday. You said that it itched, I just assumed that it was the normal itching that occurs with having tape on for an extended time."
"Well, I have two questions Dr. Harris. First, is this going to ‘Aaww’ stop me from leaving in the morning? Second, right now you're removing the third layer of tape, which 'OUCH' only hurts a little. How much is this going to hurt when you take the tape off of, ‘OUCH’ me?"
"Well, to answer your first question, once we get the cream, on you, the irritation should stop very soon. The inflammation should be significantly reduced by morning. If that's the case, I see no reason to keep you here any longer. As for your second question, Matilda, would you come here please?"
"What?" I choked.
"Matilda, I want you to come and kneel on the bed, about a foot or two, behind Mary Beth. Then bend at your waist, leaning over and put your arms around her shoulders, hugging her. Mary Beth, will you please reach up and hold onto Matilda’s arms."
"Oh dear, this is going to hurt a lot," cried Mary Beth. Seconds later, I was on her bed with my arms wrapped around her.
"Well, there will be some discomfort. How much, I'm not sure. I just thought that having Matilda hugging you during the process, would help you feel better."
"Mary Beth," I whispered in her ear, "I'm here with you. It will be all right. Think of it this way, with the tape replaced with elastic bandages, no more sponge baths"
"Hey, that's right! Rip away doc!"
Just then, Marie and another nurse came in, I didn't notice her nametag before she started yelling at Dr. Harris. "Dr. Harris, what's that child doing kneeling on that bed?"
"She's doing what I asked her to do, Betty. Now are you going to assist me, or stand around and complain that I’m breaking hospital rules again?"
"But it's a violation of hospital rules for one patient to assist with the treatment of another, also to be kneeling on the beds."
"For the record Betty, Matilda isn't assisting with the treatment of Mary Beth. She is providing comfort and support, and she's kneeling on the bed so she can do as I've asked, while allowing US to take care of Mary Beth. Now if you are incapable of following my instructions when it comes to the treatment of a patient, then I suggest that you go back to making out schedules and finding things to complain about."
‘Man alive, I've never heard a doctor talk to a nurse like that.’ Betty was so mad she almost fell over as she spun around to leave.
"I'm very sorry about that, ladies," Dr. Harris apologized. "I just don't have any tolerance for people that believe the rules are more important than the patient. Marie, shall we begin removing the final layer of tape?'
"Certainly Dr. Harris. How would you like to proceed?"
"As I gently remove the tape, I'd like you to apply the cream. That should reduce the discomfort. Matilda, all I want you to do is hold onto Mary Beth. Mary Beth, there isn't any other way to do this, I'm very sorry. If you need to cry out, we will understand. Before we begin, though, I want you to take the Tylenol."
After Mary Beth took the pills, they started removing the tape. Mary Beth tried to be brave and not cry, but the pain must have been terrible. It took about half an hour to get all the tape off her. They tried to be gentle as they eased the tape off, coating her in a white cream as they went. While they were removing the tape, I whispered in her ear. I reminded her of all the fun times we’d shared, the long walks in the park, laying on our backs watching the clouds float by, sitting on the grass and talking for hours, the joint projects at school and her birthday party, with all the funny things that happened.
Finally, they were finished. "Marie, would you get a hospital gown for her," Dr. Harris asked. "She's been through enough for right now, and I don't want to subject her to more discomfort tonight by applying the elastic bandages. We'll let her sleep tonight and I'll come back in the morning to put on some more cream and the elastic bandages."
"Certainly, doctor, I'll be right back," and Marie was gone.
I tried to move away, but Mary Beth wouldn't let go of me, "Mary Beth, I'm not going anywhere, I just need to straighten up for a minute, my back hurts."
"Not as bad as mine does," she whimpered. I didn't say anything, I also didn't move.
"Dr. Harris," Marie said when she came back into the room, making sure the door closed. "Betty is waiting for you to come out. She has Mr. Peabody with her."
"Well Marie, that's not unexpected. I guess we'd better put the elastic bandages on Mary Beth tonight; I may not be with the hospital in the morning. Mary Beth, I'm sorry about this, but I'm going to have to ask you to be brave a little longer. We'll wrap the bandages as loosely as possible, so it shouldn’t hurt too much."
"Dat's o'tay Dr. Haywus, white now I feeling pitty goodie," mumbled Mary Beth, half sleeping, half giggling.
"Yes, I can see that you're feeling pretty good," chuckled Dr. Harris. "That's the Tylenol taking effect. Matilda, keep a good hold on her please. She may fall asleep before we're finished."
"No problem, I'll keep her up until you're finished," I assured him.
I kept Mary Beth up while Dr. Harris and Marie gently wrapped the bandages around her. Mary Beth wasn't exactly awake the whole time, but she wasn't in any pain either. After the bandages were in place, they put the hospital gown on her and gently laid her down. I got off the bed as Marie pulled up the blankets, gently tucking them in around Mary Beth.
"Marie, before I go out to face the music, I need to make a phone call. Also could you bring me the charts on both of the girls?"
"Of course, Dr. I'll be right back."
Dr. Harris picked up the room phone and dialed. "Hello Ellen, this is Peter Harris." "Yes there is a little problem here. Mary Beth had an allergic reaction to the adhesive." "Yes, the tape has been removed, the rash has been treated and elastic bandages loosely applied." "I'd like to look at it in the morning, but I may not be employed here in the morning." "Oh, it was nothing really. I had Matilda kneeling on the bed behind Mary Beth hugging her for comfort while I removed the tape. Betty came in spouting rules again." "Yes, I told her off, again."
Marie came in with what I assumed to be the charts. Dr. Harris signed several places on each one and handed them back. "She and Mr. Peabody are waiting for me now." "No, it shouldn't affect the girls being discharged." "I've already signed the paperwork, so there shouldn't be a problem, but to be on the safe side I think you should be here early tomorrow." "Certainly Ellen, I'll let you know how it turns out." "Of course! She's right here.” “Matilda, Ellen would like to speak to you," he handed the phone to me as he and Marie left the room.
"Hello, Ellen."
"Matilda, I understand you've had a little excitement this evening."
"You could say that again. Not exactly your normal evening’s entertainment."
"Matilda, I know what Peter said about Mary Beth. Knowing your observation skills as I do, what's your impression of her condition?"
"Well, right now she's sleeping, but her breathing isn't normal, they gave her something for the pain that really knocked her out. Before she fell asleep, she was acting kind of goofy, so I'm a little bit worried about her. Her skin looks like she's been sunburned very badly, but only where the tape was. Dr. Harris says she should be able to leave in the morning, but from what I've overheard, that may depend on what someone else thinks. As for how Mary Beth will feel, I won't guess that until she wakes up."
"Very well, thank you for your observations. Your Mother and I were planning to arrive about 8:00, but with these latest developments, I think I'll come in earlier. Matilda, if Mary Beth has to stay longer, would you want to stay with her?"
"Of course I'll stay with her. That's a silly question, though I'm sure that will probably raise some questions I'm not sure I want to answer."
"I agree. We'll just have to make sure that Mary Beth is discharged tomorrow as planned. I'll see you in the morning then. Goodnight Matilda."
"Ellen, I'm going to stay up and keep an eye on Mary Beth for a while, so I may be a little tired in the morning."
"I understand, and approve. Goodnight, Matilda."
"Goodnight Ellen."
After I hung-up the phone, I pushed a chair next to Mary Beth's bed. I got my PDA, sat down and turned it on. Opening a new note I entered;
Hello
Is there an on-line library that I can access?
I'd like something to read while I'm sitting up
with Mary Beth.
Matilda
Sitting there, I took one of her hands in mine. It was several minutes before there was a reply to my question.
Matilda,
Permission granted.
Access Programs, Restricted, Internet. Enter
the following address into the web address field,
http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/ebooks/
You may download anything you wish from that
Library using the MSReader format. Save into
the folder 'Stories.' Then access Programs,
Microsoft Reader. You will then be able to read
the stories that you've download.
Don't stay up too late.
See you tomorrow.
Ellen
Well, that wasn't what I expected. I thought there would be something on the school system that I could read. I hadn't expected to be given Internet access.
‘Wow! This is a neat website, the University of Virginia library. They have over two-thousand e-books to choose from. Let's see … search by author, D, scroll down, YES, he's there, 'Doyle, Arthur Conan'. Gee, he wrote a lot more than just the Sherlock Holmes mysteries. What's this? ‘The Lost World?’ I think I'll try that. I wonder if … yes, there's Lewis Carroll … Mark Twain … Jules Verne … and Charles Dickens. Gee wiz, there are so many others; I don't think I could ever read them all.’
Sitting by Mary Beth's bed, I propped my PDA up against her pillow. That way I could read it and change screens with one hand, while holding Mary Beth's hand with my other. I'd been reading for about half an hour when Marie came in to check on Mary Beth.
"Matilda, shouldn't you be going to sleep?"
"I guess I should, but I'm worried about Mary Beth. She was acting funny before she went to sleep, and her breathing doesn't seem right to me."
"Well, let me take a look at her. Do you mind if I borrow her hand?" giggled Marie. She quickly went about her work and recorded Mary Beth's vital signs. There were several hmm's, along with one surprise with a raised eyebrow.
As Marie was leaving, I couldn't help myself, "Marie, how is she?"
"Matilda, I'm sorry but I really can't discuss her condition with you."
"Well, if it’s that bad you'd better get hold of Dr. Harris."
"What do you mean?"
"When I asked you 'how is she,' I expected one of three answers. One, ‘she's doing just fine,’ which means she is doing fine. Two, ‘she's fine,’ which means that she's not fine but not bad enough to worry about. Or three, ‘I can't discuss it,’ which means there is a reason to be worried and you need to get in touch with a doctor."
Marie shook her head and left the room. I put away my PDA. I'd lost interest in reading for the moment. I sat and watched Mary Beth, holding her hand.
Marie came back a little later. "Matilda, you really should go to sleep."
"I'll go to sleep when you tell me that Mary Beth is all right."
Marie put a sensor clip on one of Mary Beth's fingers. Then she plugged an extender cable into the instruments on the wall behind my bed, being that they were the only instruments in the room, before plugging the two cables together. One of the monitors came to life, displaying Mary Beth's pulse and oxygen level.
"Well now, Matilda, with Mary Beth hooked up to the monitor we'll know if there's any thing to worry about. All right Matilda, now why don't you get some sleep? Um, it might be better if you sleep in your own bed tonight.”
"Why?"
"Well, if we do need to come in to help Mary Beth, we don't want to disturb you."
"I see. Well, I think I'll sit up with her a little longer."
"That's fine, but not too much longer. You do need to get some sleep. You don't want to be too tired to go home tomorrow. You wouldn't want to have to stay another day, would you?"
"No, I don't think I want to stay another day. Wait, they wouldn't make me stay another day just because I'm tired, would they?"
"No! Of course, they wouldn't. You still need to get some sleep, little one. Goodnight, Matilda."
"Goodnight, Marie." 'I do wish that people would stop calling me "little one." I may be small for my age, but I'm not ‘that’ small. Maybe I should get some elevator shoes, although, that would look funny with pajamas ... Then again, some fuzzy pink elevator slippers. Oh well, enough about my problems. Mary Beth's condition hasn't changed; I think I'll sit with her a little longer before going to bed.'
“Matilda, … Matilda, … Wake up, Matilda.”
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Raised in SLC - chapter 15
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
There’s no place like home!
There’s no place like … Home, and best friends!
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Hart
for their kindness, help, support and input.
Chapter 15
The Conclusion
"Uh, what?" I slowly opened my eyes, "… where am I?” 'Oh yes, now I remember.'
"Matilda, did you spend the whole night in that chair?" Ellen asked.
"Um, I guess so. I didn't have this blanket though."
"Well, I guess you can probably thank one of the nurses for that."
"Mary Beth!" Suddenly remembering why I was in the chair, I looked towards her bed. I was relieved to see her sleeping peacefully. I looked closer and could tell that her breathing was back to normal. I don't know why I did it, but I kissed the tip of my finger and touched it to tip of her nose.
"A little closer than just friends, I see," commented Ellen as she observed my last action.
"Well, ... we've been close friends for years. During the last couple of days I've realized just how close."
"That's okay dear; there's nothing wrong with a kiss on the nose, between friends. Are you ready to start the day?"
"Like I said last night, I'll (yaaawn) be tired today, but I felt that it was important to sit-up with Mary Beth. Other than being tired, I think I'm ready for whatever the day brings."
"That's the spirit, Matilda. Look at each morning as a new beginning, a chance to grow personally and a chance to help others."
"Ellen, have you talked with Dr. Harris this morning? Is there going to be any problem with us leaving today?"
"That's two entirely different questions. To answer the first, yes I've spoken with Peter. He was correct about two things. First, his treatment of Mary Beth, and her allergic reaction to the tape appears to have been right on the money, and second, his assumption that he would no longer be an employee of this hospital. As for your second question, that remains to be seen. Peter did sign both sets of discharge forms. However, sometimes certain members of the administration can be a little … unreasonable. We'll just have to play it by ear and see what happens. In the meantime, why don't you shower and get dressed so you'll be ready when your Mother arrives."
"Okay, Ellen. What about Mary Beth, Should we wake her up now?"
"Not just yet, I think we’ll let her sleep until you're finished with your shower. If I'm not here when you're finished and ready to go, please wake sleeping beauty and have her shower and get dressed," Ellen giggled.
"No problem, I'll take care of it. Although I'm not sure that I can play the role of the handsome prince," I decided to add to the merriment.
Ellen was sitting in the chair I'd vacated moments before as I retrieved my clothes from the small closest and headed for the bathroom.
As I showered, I realized, 'You know what's really nice? Being able to take a nice, long, hot shower and not having Chuck yelling at me for hogging all the hot water.'
When I finished, I dressed quickly and slowly opened the door, peeking out. Mary Beth was still sleeping. Ellen wasn't anywhere to be found, not in the room or out with the nurses. ‘Time to wake sleeping beauty’ I sat down and started gently tickling Mary Beth's nose. It took a while, but she finally responded, sleepily pawing at her nose. When she didn't open either eye, I started tickling again. Once again, her hand brushed her nose, shooing away whatever it was that was offending it. It wasn't until the third time around that Mary Beth opened one eye, peeking out.
"What are you doing?" she moaned.
"Tickling your nose."
"Well, stop it! I'm still sleeping. What are you doing dressed? It's still the middle of the night."
"Wakie, wakie, sleepy head, sleeping time is over. It's morning. Time for you to get up, get showered and get dressed. Ellen left a bag with your clothes. I don't know where she is at the moment, but in case there's a problem, she wants you up, showered and dressed."
"What do you mean, problem?"
"Well, there was a little excitement after you fell asleep. It might be best if you get moving."
"Hey that's right! Dr. Harris took the tape off last night. No sponge bath today." Mary Beth threw off her blankets and sat up quickly. At least she tried to sit up; the sudden pain from her ribs reminded her that she was supposed to take it easy. "Hey, where did this gown come from?" she asked as I helped her up and she swung her feet around and slid off the edge of the bed. Feeling her ribs, her excitement flew out the window. "OH NO! What did they do to me?"
"Relax Mary Beth; it's just the elastic bandages. Here, let me untie the knot at the back of the gown. … There you are, now go into the bathroom and take off the gown and bandages, then take a nice shower and wash your hair. I know that will make you feel better. I'll get a nurse to put the bandages back on after you’re finished. Then you can get dressed."
"Are you sure it's okay?"
"Of course, it’s okay. You don't want to stay here, do you?"
"Well, at least we'd be together."
"Wrong again dear friend! My mom will be here in about an hour to take me home. Unless you want to stay here ALONE, you'd better get moving."
"But Matilda, I don't want to go without you." Mary Beth had such a frown on her face. I couldn't help myself as I giggled.
"You know if you frown like that your face will stick that way. Then everyone will call you Sad Beth instead of Mary Beth," I chuckled.
"Oh Matilda! You're impossible!" she giggled as she took her duffel bag and went into the bathroom.
Mary Beth had been in the shower for about fifteen minutes when Ellen came in. "Well, I see you're showered, dressed and looking almost like a princess again," Ellen smiled.
"What do you mean, almost?"
"Well, ... something's missing. Do you think you would know what to do with these?" Ellen giggled, as she handed me a large bag.
Inside was another wig, already styled like it had been for my graduation. There was also all the makeup that I would need to finish the job. I smiled as I nodded, "Oh yes, I know what to do with these."
"They come with Amanda's complements, dear. Can I assume that Mary Beth is in the shower?"
"Yes. She's been in long enough! I was about to get a nurse to put the elastic bandages back on her."
"Never mind, I’ll take care of it. Why don't you use the mirror above the sink, do your makeup, and change your wig. Oh Matilda, I know it’s been a while, but do your very best. I need you to be every bit the princess that you were, when you were dancing with Joseph, after your graduation."
"Ellen, what's going on?"
"Nothing much, just a little diversion. Please hurry dear, there's not much time." Ellen knocked on the bathroom door and disappeared inside.
I quickly wrapped a towel around my neck and shoulders to protect my dress. My makeup application was a little rough, ‘Good grief, am I out of practice.’ I washed most of it off and started again. It took three tries before I was happy with how I looked. I was surprised that Ellen and Mary Beth hadn't come out yet; as the shower had been turned off for some time.
A little while later the door opened and Ellen came out … Following behind her was, ME! Well, not really me, but if you didn't look too close, you'd think it was me.
"Ellen, what's going on?"
"Like I said before, just a little diversion. Would you do me a favor? I'd like you to send a PDA message for me, using your numeric code."
"Sure! What should I send?" I picked up my PDA, and turned it on.
"Please send 'You’re taking me to the promised land?’" Ellen said solemnly. Mary Beth stood next to Ellen, smiling.
I did as requested. Moments later I received a reply, also coded. After a moment to decode, I announced, "Ellen, the reply says 'What else are friends for?' Let me see if I understand this right. After last night’s excitement, the attitude of the hospital admiration has changed. They don't want to honor the release form that Dr. Harris signed for Mary Beth. You don't want to run the risk of some cranky doctor insisting that she stays here any longer. They don't care about me, because the only reason I'm still here is for observation. You've arranged for someone to mount a rescue mission, to smuggle Mary Beth out."
Ellen smiled as she leaned towards Mary Beth, "I told you it wouldn't take her long to figure it out."
Mary Beth giggled, "That's my best friend, the smartest girl in the fourth grade."
"Well, Matilda, have you figured out the plan yet?" Ellen asked. "Oh, by the way, you should wear these shoes."
Ellen handed me some stilts to wear, well actually they were some blue shoes with, a three inch heel, on top of what looked like two inch platform, about five inches total. 'I may get a nose bleed from the altitude.'
"Just guessing from the way we're dressed, I'll assume that I'm supposed to be a lost princess from some little known country, or some celebrity’s child, off to see the world. Like in the 'Prince and the Pauper', by Mark Twain. Someone is going to discover me here and we are supposed to make lots of commotion, drawing the attention of all the staff to us. In the meantime, someone else will casually walk in, and then walk out with Mary Beth pretending to be Matilda. The only problem is, I don't speak any other language."
"It doesn't matter what you say, as long as you're loud," explained Ellen. “Just take your cues from Joseph, Edward and Suzy. From what Suzy told me about yesterday morning, a little ‘one act play’ shouldn't be too difficult. Any questions?"
"Who is Edward?"
"He's Suzanne's study partner."
"One more question. After Mary Beth is gone, how do I get out of here?"
"Well, your Mother will be coming in to take you home. However, she’ll be walking out with Mary Beth instead. Nobody will suspect anything wrong with that, just a mother taking her daughter home. The show that you and the others will be improvising, will eventually wind down and you will leave with Joseph, Suzy and Edward. They'll have a limousine waiting out front. After all, you are supposed to be someone important. They’ll be taking you ... home. Your Mother and I will meet after she and Mary Beth have left the hospital grounds, then I will take Mary Beth to the school."
"It sounds simple enough. Do you have a backup plan?" I was understandably curious.
"Well, this should be a simple 'snatch and run' with a little diversion thrown in for insurance. When you think of a backup plan, let me know."
‘This is terrific! I’m the sacrificial lamb.’ "So I'm providing the distraction so Mary Beth can get away, and then I'm going to be trapped in here with some upset administrator?"
"Matilda, relax, this is just a hospital, not a foreign country. Everything will be fine. Trust me, this isn't the first time we've played this kind of game. In the meantime, I need to get these bags down to the van." Ellen quickly finished packing the PDA's and chargers, picked up the bags.
As she started to leave she remembered something else, "Oh, Matilda?"
Mary Beth and I answered in unison "Yes?"
"No, the real Matilda," Ellen giggled. "Don't let any of the staff see you until Joseph gets here. If I’ve calculated correctly, that should be in about fifteen minutes. Your mother should be here in twenty minutes, to walk Mary Beth out. You and the others need to keep the show going for fifteen minutes after they get on the elevator."
After Ellen left, Mary Beth just stood there, looking at me and grinning from ear to ear.
"All right Mary Beth, what are you smiling about?"
"Nothing, … nothing at all," giggling.
"Come on Mary Beth, give."
"Give what? I don't know what you mean."
"I know you too well, a smile that big means if you don't tell someone soon, you're going to pop. I'm the only one here, so come on, out with it. What were you and Ellen talking about?"
"Who said anything about Ellen?"
"All right Mary Beth, you want to play your Watson against my Holmes, that's fine. First, you weren't this happy when you went into the bathroom to take your shower. Second, Ellen was the only one in there with you. Third, I'm sure you talked about more than the weather. And fourth, I know where you're ticklish."
"Matilda, you wouldn't?"
I put on my evil grin, as I slowly advanced toward her, flexing the fingers on both hands.
"Matilda, stop, you don't want to do that." I continued slowly moving towards her. "You know what happens when you tickle me. I'll scream and make lots of noise." I took another step. "If I scream, the nurses will come in, and you aren't supposed to be seen yet."
She was right about that, still, I only paused for a moment before taking my last step. I was now within striking distance. I paused again, then threw my arms around her. She gasped, held her breath, and closed her eyes waiting for the attack she knew was coming. It took her a few seconds to realize that I wasn't tickling her. I was gently hugging her, around her shoulders to avoid her ribs.
"Oh, Matilda, you nut. I thought you were going to tickle me."
"I know, but your ribs still hurt and I didn't want our last few minutes together to be remembered that way. I've really enjoyed being with you these last few day's. We've gotten to know each other so well. I'm always going to remember these three days as the happiest we ever shared." 'At least up until now.' "Whatever you and Ellen talked about, that made you smile, can stay between the two of you." 'That is until tonight, silly girl, hee hee. Nothing will stop me from extracting the information tonight, once your shoes are off.’
"Oh Matilda, you're making me sad again. I hope they make a decision soon about letting you attending that school." Mary Beth began to cry again.
"Hey now, don't do that! You'll ruin your makeup, and Ellen didn't leave any to fix it up with."
"But Matilda, how come you're not sad? When I think about being separated from you, I can't help but cry."
'Now what do I do? How can I cheer her up without telling her that we'll be together, and without lying to her?'
"I'm not sad, because we may not be separated for very long."
"WHAT? What are you saying?"
"When I was talking to Ellen earlier," 'I won't say how much earlier,' “she told me that she received permission for me to take some tests." 'Which she did, the fact that it was ten weeks ago isn’t important.' "I guess they're the same tests that you took." 'Or at least they were close to being the same.' "So you see, we may not be separated for too long."
"Really? Oh, Matilda, that's wonderful! It maybe six weeks before we're together again, but at least it won't be eight years."
'Actually only about two or three hours, dear friend. That's not too long, is it?'
After that, Mary Beth wasn't sad anymore, but I’m definitely going to need some new stuffing, because she was hugging it out of me. I didn’t know she could squeeze so hard with her sore ribs of hers. Of course, that was better than her crying and messing up her makeup. I also knew that she and Ellen hadn't been discussing this subject, while they were in the bathroom.
A few minutes later, we heard some loud voices, Mary Beth looked out the door to see what was going on. "There are several people by the elevators. One of them is Suzy. I don't recognize the others, but one of them is yelling, in French, I think."
"Mary Beth, are all the nurses looking at them?"
"Most of them are," she replied after taking another look.
"Well, I guess it’s show time. I've never acted like a spoiled brat before, wish me luck."
Mary Beth and I hugged each other. "Good luck, Matilda!" she whispered. "I hope to see you soon."
"Good luck to you too, ... Matilda," I giggled. I kissed Mary Beth on the cheek and slipped out the door. Ellen had mentioned that there was an empty room three rooms down. I slipped in there without being noticed by any of the nurses. ‘Way to go Joseph.’ I sat in a rocking chair and waited.
I didn't have to wait long. I heard the search party approach. Joseph was talking, well, almost yelling, in nothing but French. Suzy was translating; at least that's how it appeared. Being that I don't know French, I wasn’t sure if she was translating or just adding to the noise and confusion. I left the room, so they would see me and I could lead them further away from the elevators.
"Mademoiselle Lucinda!" Joseph yelled when he saw me.
'Lucinda, that's not too bad, I can do Lucinda.' I picked up the pace. Of course, so did Joseph. I hadn't gone more than thirty feet when he caught up with me, grabbed me, spun me around and hugged me, all the while yelling at me in French, as if I understood what he was saying.
"Oh, Joseph, ... Hi, umm, ... Where did you come from?" I was suddenly surrounded by seven people, Joseph, Suzy and a young man, that I assumed to be Edward. There were also three nurses, as well as an older gentleman in a suit. I guess he's from hospital administration. As I was looking around, Joseph kept up a continuous verbal barrage in French.
‘Ok, I’ve played the good girl all week; let’s see if I can be a spoiled brat?’ "Joseph, Joseph, that's enough! I know that my mother hired you as my tutor last year. You’ve been trying to teach me French for months, but I just don't understand what you're saying. You’re going to have to speak English if you want me to understand you," I yelled, to be heard over what everyone else was saying.
‘There's Mom, heading in to get Mary Beth. They had better not take too much time in the room. I don't know how long I can keep this up.’
"Oh, very well, for zhe benefit of everyone else, I will speak zhe English. As for you young lady, you understand me well enough."
Well Joseph was using English, but ‘speaking’ it wasn't quite accurate, he was still ‘yelling’. "Mademoiselle Lucinda, what do you zhink you air doing? Changing places with a common girl from zhe city, duo weeks ago. Your mother was outraged, when she returned from Sweden, and realized zhat zhe girl she was kissing goodnight was not eer daughter."
"They didn't do anything to hurt Lucy, did they?" I yelled, trying to raise the excitement level.
"Miss Lucinda, of course not! You should know better than that!" Suzy injected. "Your parents may not be around much, but they are kind and understanding. They wouldn't hurt anyone. They were shocked to discover that you had traded places with Lucy. I'm afraid that saying you're sorry, and pleading forgiveness, isn't going to work for you this time."
‘Ah, there they go ... and ... Yes! They made it to the elevator. Now for a fifteen minute show, to give them time to get away.’ "You're right Suzy, my parents aren't around much. I'm surprised that they even noticed that I wasn't there. Lucy is perfect. We could have been twins. Not just twins, we could have been identical twins. Who was it that figured out she wasn't me? It couldn't have been Daddy, he's never home. Even when he's home, he isn't home. And I'm sure it wasn't Mommy, she's too busy with her brunches, tea parties and dinner parties. Not to mention the country club, the fund raisers and the charities."
"Mademoiselle Lucinda, your parents, zhey love you very much. Surely you know zhis."
"Joseph, I'll tell you what I know. The three of you know and care about me more than my own parents do. Answer me this, who did they send to look for me? The three of you! When they shipped me off to summer camp in Vermont last summer, who took me to the airport, hugged me and said goodbye? It was you, Suzy, and you, Edward. Who takes me each month to see the Utah Symphony? Who was with me last fall when I had to have my appendix out? Not Mommy and Daddy, they couldn't be bothered to come home for something so trivial.
“Up until my eighth birthday, who was it that tucked me into bed each night? My kind loving mother? No, it was you Suzy!” ‘I look that size so why not play like I'm that old?’ "I'm almost nine and I've never even seen my parents on my birthday. You want to tell me again how much my parents love me?" ‘It's amazing the kind of story you can tell after you've watched a few 'Poor Little Rich Kid' style movies.’
"Lucinda," this time from Edward, "You cannot blame your parents, because they aren't with you very often. You know that being the president of an international corporation, keeps your father very busy. And your mother has many responsibilities that take a great deal of her time. They only want what's best for you, little one."
‘This is the first time I've ever seen Edward, and he's calling me “little one.” I need taller shoes! Of course, anything taller than these would be stilts.’
"What about their responsibilities to me? I'm their daughter! Doesn't that mean that I deserve more from them than a huge estate which I can't leave without an escort, a private tutor, a governess, and chauffeur? Don't get me wrong, the three of you are terrific, and you are young enough that I don’t even feel bad about not having any brothers or sisters. The four of us have had some great times together; I love you guys. The problem is, you're just not my parents. They don't even know me anymore. I'm sure that it was one of you that discovered Lucy and I traded places, they're not home often enough to have figured it out on their own." After that speech, I had almost convinced myself.
"It's all right Munchkin," Edward said, as he put his arm around me, "We'll find a way of getting your parents to spend more time with you. You don't need to run away to get their attention."
‘That's why he called me little one. Someone told him my nickname. If I find out who, … I'll, … I'll ... I'll hack into the computer system and change their grades.’
"You think I was trying to run away? Or that I did this, just to get some attention? Is that what you think? You're all crazy! I was just trying to learn about life outside the walls of daddy's estate. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I just wanted to see what it would be like to be a normal kid. What would my life be like without all of this? Lucy and I bumped into each other by chance in the ladies room, at Symphony Hall last July. It was a spur of the moment decision. We talked for a while, and then decided to trade places for a month. We were supposed to change back at the concert the next month, only I couldn't convince Lucy's family to go again."
"Lucinda, did you say that the two of you traded places last July?" Suzy's eyes grew quite large, as she asked that question.
‘This is almost more fun than computers.’ "Umm, yes … why? When did you guys realize that Lucy wasn't me?"
"Zuzy? Edward? Pearaaps we should keep zhis small piece of information zo ourselves."
"I think that's probably a good idea, Joseph," Suzy replied.
"That's if we want to keep our jobs!" added Edward.
"All right you three, answer my question! When did you realize that it was Lucy you were taking care of, and not Lucinda?"
"Well, it was about two weeks ago," Suzy confessed, trying to looked embarrassed.
‘I think it's time to wrap up this performance and get out of here, and quickly.’ "Way to go, Lucy! I knew she could pull it off. She fooled all of you for almost three months. That's amazing!"
"Well now, Mademoiselle Lucinda, now zhat you aave aad your little fling and aave caused all of us zo be sick with worry, may we put all of zhis in back of us and zake you home?"
"Well Joseph, when you put it that way ... YES!" ‘Oh yes, am I ready to go “home.” After all, I'm Matilda and my home is Immigration Manor’. To emphasize my readiness, I threw my arms around Joseph, catching him off guard and almost knocking him over. Suzy, Edward, and I laughing at the terror on Joseph’s face. After he recovered his composure, Joseph, joined in the laughter.
With one arm around Joseph, the other around Suzy, and with Edward and ‘the suit’, bring up the rear, we headed to the elevator. Once the doors closed, the man in the suit began laughing, and shook my hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Matilda. Ellen said you'd look like a princess. I should know by now, always believe what Ellen says. Forgive me; my name is Kevin Farnsworth. Ellen called me this morning after Mr. Peabody tore up the discharge form for Mary Beth, saying that Peter Harris couldn't sign them. It was a pleasure to be a part of this show."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Farnsworth. I hope you won't get into any trouble over this."
"Over what? According to my secretary, I've been in my office all day. Which is true, being that I am the chief surgeon, and the whole hospital is my office, so to speak. Oh, Peabody will be upset, but it's so easy to upset accountants. Especially an accountant that thinks he should be running the hospital. He'll throw a tantrum and blow off some steam about the disappearance of Mary Beth. This will offset his gloating, about having Peter dismissed."
"If you're the chief surgeon, couldn't you have helped Dr. Harris?"
"You know, I offered to help, but he told me that he already had a new job. I asked him where, and doing what. All he said was, it wasn't in the city, and he had Ellen to thank for it, so I guess he'll be okay."
When the elevator doors opened, the five of us walked quickly through the main waiting area and out the front doors, where they did have a limo waiting. Edward opened the rear door for us, just as a chauffeur should. After we got in, Mr. Farnsworth said goodbye and wished us good luck. The door was closed and we were off.
“Matilda, you were fabulous,” Joseph said once we were alone.
“Oh yes, girl! That was so much better than yesterday morning with Mary Beth,” Suzy added her compliments.
“Yeah, I haven’t had that much fun in ages,” Edward called out from the front seat.
“Thanks, I guess I learned more from TV than I realized. Everything I said was put together from different movies,” I replied with a smile.
“How old are you?” asked Edward.
“I’m 10, why?”
“Just wondering how much time you spent in front of the TV, to have seen enough movies to put together that much of a show.”
“Only once a week, with Mom, and then, only if they were good movies. The rest I must have picked up from all the junk that everyone else watched, while Rachael and I were putting puzzles together. Of course, there were all of the mysteries I’ve read as well.”
“Well, wherever it came from, you put on one fabulous show.” It was a little odd to hear Beca’s voice coming from Joseph. I had to giggle, I knew they were both the same person, but just from looking at Joseph, you would never suspect that he is really Beca.
I looked up and noticed where we were. “Hey, wait a minute, where are we going?”
“We’re taking you home,” Edward replied.
“But we’re not going to the Manor.”
“My instructions were to take you to your house. I don’t know why, and I’ve learned not to question certain instructions. The instructions said to take you to your house, so to your house you will go.” When Edward finished, he pushed a button and a solid panel went up, separating him from the rest of us.
“But, I don’t understand,” I was almost in tears, “Ellen told me Monday night that I was accepted at the Manor and would be going there when I left the hospital.”
Joseph held me in his arms for the rest of the journey. It was quiet in the back of that limo. The only sound was an occasional sniffle from me. When we arrived at our destination, I heard Edward get out. There were tears in my eyes as I waited for him to open one of the rear doors, but neither door was opened. Instead, he went up to the front door of the house that I thought I’d never see again. It seemed as if it had been years since I was in that house, but it’d only been five days. The last time I had been in that house, my father had beaten me senseless. I remembered that Mom told me Dad was in jail, but I guess the sudden fear of being that close was too much. When I started crying again Joseph put his arms around me.
“Easy Matilda, it’s not what you think. We thought we’d play a joke on you, but this isn’t what was supposed to have happened. Here take a look at this,” Joseph said as he handed me his PDA.
On the screen was a note:
Joseph
Stop by Matilda’s old house.
I just received approval for her to retrieve the
two books that she requested, and only those two.
Edith will be there, so there shouldn’t be any
problem with getting them. I’ll see you when I
get back, I’m taking the long road.
Have Matilda in my office as planned.
Thanks;
Ellen
I looked up at Joseph, “You mean I don’t have to stay here? I AM going to the Manor?”
“Yes Matilda! You are going to the Manor. I’m sorry about this; we thought it would be a joke. We didn’t know that being here and not knowing why would terrify you.”
Just then, the door opened. Timidly, I looked up and there was Mom. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with such a smile. I jumped out and hugged her. I hugged like I’ve never hugged her before, and like I’ll never get to hug her again. Time stood still right then. I spent hours feeling the relief of all my tension and worries leave me, as I was held in my Mother’s arms.
A day or two later, I felt someone tapping on my shoulder. It was Joseph, “I’m sorry Matilda, but we have to get going. We have to get back to the Manor before Ellen does.”
“Bye, Mom, I love you,” I whispered in her ear.
“So long, Sweetheart. Behave yourself, and do what Ellen says.”
“I will Mom. I’ll see you at the Manor later, okay?”
“Well, I don’t know how much. I’ll be working with the students from the older years. From what Ellen tells me, I’m going to be very busy, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you.”
“Come on, Matilda!” Suzy called.
I giggled, got back in the car and Mom handed me my books. The door was closed and we pulled away from the curb. I turned around and looked out the back window. Mom was still standing at the curb; she’d pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and was wiping her eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so sad, except maybe once.
The trip to the Manor was longer than I expected. I sat between Joseph and Suzy, holding my books on my lap, trying to make some sense out of what had just happened with Mom. ‘She knows that I’ll be able to see her from time to time, maybe not very often, but sometimes. Why did she look so sad? The last time I saw Mom that sad was … OH! NO, … NO, … NOT THAT.’ I leaned over, resting my head on Joseph’s arm and cried, and cried, and cried.
*
*
The last time I remember seeing Mom that sad was on that horrible day about five years ago, my first day of Kindergarten. That horrible day, when Mom told me we wouldn’t be able to have our special afternoons together anymore. It hurt her so much to tell me, that it was time to move on, that it was time for me to grow up.
Mom, in her own way, had just told me goodbye, just told me that we won’t be able to see each other, that I won’t be able to …
I eventually became aware of my surroundings and that Joseph was there, holding me gently, talking to me gently, as I came out of the fogbank that had enveloped me. We’d parked somewhere on the grounds of Immigration Manor, I don’t even know where. I don’t even remember Joseph helping me to my room, but he must have. I was still crying, knowing that Mom had just said goodbye. Now I knew how Mary Beth had felt Monday night, when she was crying in her bed.
“Matilda, do you want to talk to one of the psychiatrists? I know that Ellen is yours, but any of them would be happy to talk with you.”
“No, I’ll be okay. I just realized how permanent this is. I’ll talk to Ellen later though. I have some questions I need answers to. Could you stay with me for a while?”
“Sure! But you need to get changed and get over to Ellen’s office. Remember the surprise for Mary Beth?”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten.” I paused as I dried my eyes. “How did we get here before them?”
“No time for that now. Come on, Sis! Get a move on, you’ve got to get into your school uniform and be hiding in the big leather chair in Ellen’s office when they get there.”
“Joseph, what are you talking about?”
“Matilda, did you see ‘Star Wars — Return of the Jedi’?”
“Duh, everyone has seen that one.”
“All right, you remember the scene where Darth Vader is taking Luke to the Emperor? And how all you saw was the back of the chair, until he turned around. Well, that’s how Ellen wants to surprise Mary Beth. You’re supposed to be in the big leather chair behind Ellen’s desk. Sit with your back to the door and couches. Ellen will take Mary Beth in and they will sit down on one of the couches and talk for a while. When Ellen says that it’s time for her to meet her study partner, you will slowly turn around. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I have a question. Do you have a long hooded robe for me?” I giggled.
“Would you get dressed!”
I got up and started for the closet. “Is this the same room I was in before?”
“Yes, it’s the same room. Why?”
“Because I don’t remember there being a bookshelf on that wall.” I was pointing to the floor to ceiling bookshelf, that stood in the corner next to the couch. There were two books standing on one shelf, rotated so you could see the front cover of each book. Not just any two books, they were my two books. I assume that Joseph had put them there, while I wasn’t coherent.
“No Matilda, it wasn’t there before. I think you are the only one in the school, with a bookshelf in their room. In fact, Ellen only received the approval for you, to have your books this morning. They must have moved that in here sometime within the last hour or so. There’s a lot more space than you need for two books, I guess they figure you’re going to build another library.”
‘Here we go again with the, “You’re special” routine. I just wish I knew what everybody else sees in me. I’m just not that different, at least, I don’t think so. Oh well, no time to start thinking about that now.’
As soon as I’d changed my clothes, Joseph and I went over to Ellen’s office. She of course, wasn’t there. “Any idea when they will be arriving?” I asked, looking at Joseph.
He took out his PDA, tapped a few strokes and announced, “They are just entering the grounds. Give them a few minutes to get to the parking lot, and then about five to get in here. Now remember, your cue to turn around is when Ellen says ‘I’d like you to meet your study partner.’ Any questions before I leave? It will take me some time to change so I can go to dinner as Beca.”
“About a hundred, but I’ll settle for the answers to three. You checked something on your PDA to find out where Ellen and Mary Beth were. Do all the vehicles have tracking devices on them?”
“Yes.”
“Am I still under the limited access restriction?”
“Definitely, Yes!”
“I guess that means I shouldn’t play with Ellen’s computer while I’m waiting.”
“That’s correct. Can I trust you not to touch it, so I can go change?”
“Yes, I promise not to touch it. Uh, Joseph, why does it take so long for you to change?
“Do you think it’s easy to get my long hair to look like it’s this short? Do you have any idea how much stuff I have to use in my hair to stick it all down?”
“Why don’t you just take it off, like I do?” Now it was my turn to tease. I carefully removed my wig to show off my short blonde hair.
“Hey, you’re blonde under all that brown. You know, you’re kind of cute with blonde hair.”
“Kind of cute? With my wig and makeup, I’m a princess, and without my wig, I’m only ‘Kind of Cute?”
“Well, yes, I’d say cute. It’ll take me a little while to get used to the idea of you being blonde. You are going to let it grow out, aren’t you?”
“Yes I am going to let it grow out. My own hair will be a lot less trouble than keeping track of a wig. Oh, … Who told Edward about the nickname Munchkin?”
“Probably Suzy, why?”
“Does everybody here know?”
“I don’t think so. Is there a problem with Munchkin?”
“No, I don’t have a problem with Munchkin. What I do have a problem with, is ‘Little One.’ I know that I’m small for my age, and I can deal with that. It’s just that up until about three years ago, anytime my family went out to eat, the waitresses would always ask my parents if they needed a booster seat for the ‘little one.’ It drove me crazy. So if you would, please pass the word around, I don’t want to be called ‘little one’.”
“Hey, that’s no problem. Like I said before, we’re not here to embarrass anyone or make them feel bad. That’s definitely against school rules. Jokes are okay, as long as they’re not mean jokes. Look, I have to run, and you need to get out of sight. I’ll see you later.”
“So long Joseph. See you later.”
Joseph opened the door and left, but I couldn’t help but overhear his conversation in the hall. “Madame Aansen, so good to see you again.”
“Well, hello, Joseph. I didn’t expect to see you here. Is everything all right?”
“Wee Madame, everyzhing is jusz fine. I was jusz leaving zhe package zhat you aad requested.”
“Joseph, were there any problems retrieving the package?”
“Only a few minor difficulties. Aardly worth mentioning.”
“Very well, thank you, Joseph. Will we see you later?”
“I am afraid no. I musz leave as soon as possible, I zherefore bid you a’dieu, Madame.”
“Very well, Joseph. It was good to see you again, until next time.”
Joseph’s distraction gave me plenty of time to arrange Ellen’s chair and take a seat. With the high back and the wings on the sides, someone would have to come all the way around the desk to see me in that chair. Unfortunately, when I sat all the way back, my feet stuck straight out, and when I sat so my knees bent, my feet still didn't reach the floor. 'I don't know how I’m going to turn this chair.'
“Well now, Mary Beth, let’s take a few minutes and talk about this school and exactly why you’re here. We’ll be much more comfortable on one of these couches.”
“Thank you Ellen. I’ve been wondering why you would want me. I’m not really that smart. Matilda is the smart one! She’s always helping with my homework. She even helped me with the tests that you had me take on that small computer.”
“Yes dear, we know about the tests, and it seems that you will need a special tutor to help you catch up with the rest of our students. As you may not know, when your time with us has come to an end, you will be eighteen years old, but academically you will be well on your way to earning a Masters Degree at the university. All of our students are several years ahead of the other schools in the country. However, academics are not the only reason we offered you a position here. Here at Immigration Manor, our students excel because of the environment. They are free to express themselves without fear. As I reviewed the test you took several weeks ago, they indicated that you could do much better, provided you weren’t in fear of being ridiculed for being smart.
“However, there is another reason that our students excel. Our students are matched together in pairs; we call them ‘study partners.’ We are very careful about selecting just the right two to be study partners, their personalities, likes and dislikes, how they react in different situations, how they feel about loyalty. All of these are taken into account, before we pair up study partners. Right now, we have a student who has a very uncharacteristic personality and we have been having a difficult time finding the right study partner.”
“And you think I’m the right person to be this, this person’s study partner?”
“Yes Mary Beth, I know that you are just the right person.” ‘I could tell that Ellen was trying hard not to giggle.’
“Do I have anything to say about it?”
“Well, I guess, if there were something that we overlooked, like they only had one eye. That might be a reason to request a different study partner.”
“So, like, when do I meet this strange person, that you’ve paired me up with?”
“Who said anything about strange?”
“You did say uncharacteristic, didn’t you? What else does that mean?” asked Mary Beth.
“It means, that they do things that are unusual, or unexpected, or umm, well, strange. Anyway, I think you'll find this person will be lots of fun to have around.”
"The way you're describing them, I'm starting to get nervous."
"Oh my goodness no! I'm sure that you and your study partner will become 'best friends' in no time. If you're ready Mary Beth, I’d like you to meet your study partner."
'This is it; I hope Ellen is holding onto her.' I tried to turn the chair as planned, but as I feared, it wasn't going to move. 'Change of plans.' I hopped out of the chair and, as majestically as I could, walked around to stand at the end of Ellen's desk. 'Wait a second. No yelling or screaming? What’s going on? Now why did Ellen have Mary Beth sit with her back to me? I think it’s time to change the plans again,’ giggling to myself.
"So where do we go to meet this ..."
I quietly rushed up behind her and covered her eyes with my hands.' "Peek-a-boo study partner," I whispered.
"What the ... MATILDA!" Mary Beth grabbed my wrists, pulling my hands away from her eyes.
Spinning around, she looked at me for the first time, in all of about three hours. The expression on her face was priceless.
"SURPRISE!"
"But Matilda, when did you ... How come you didn't tell me ...” Suddenly she seemed upset, “Matilda, … You lied to me!"
I went around the couch and sat next to her. "Technically, I never lied to you Mary Beth. I did exaggerate a little, I kept some things a secret, and I didn't tell you everything that I knew, but I never lied to you. All of that ends now. There are no secrets between study partners, right Ellen?"
Ellen was giggling the whole time. "That's right, Matilda. Mary Beth, please forgive Matilda for keeping you in the dark about certain things. Surprising you this way, was my idea. From the look on your face, it seems that we were successful in surprising you."
"Boy, I'll say. I didn't expect to see this silly nut for months, if not years."
Mary Beth was truly happy to see me. ‘I may need one of those new bionic arms if she doesn't stop squeezing the one I have.’
"Matilda, why don't you show Mary Beth to your rooms? I assume you remember the way?"
"Oh Ellen, of course I know the way. I did spend almost two weeks in that room," I huffed.
"I know you do, Dear," Ellen chuckled. "Mary Beth, please don't hug Matilda so tightly. We've never had a funeral here at the Manor and we don't want to start now. You two go to your rooms and relax. Matilda you can change into something more comfortable. I'll come by and get you before dinner, take you to your year’s lounge and introduce you to the other 'Year A' students."
"Year A? I remember Suzy made a reference to year H. What's that all about?" inquired Mary Beth.
"This school is run differently than other schools. We have students from ages ten to eighteen, broken into eight years. Rather than defining them by grades, we use A through H. I'll explain more about the school after dinner," she told us, as she escorted us out of her office.
"Come on Mary Beth, you're going to love this room." We chatted as we went; nothing serious, just two friends happy to be together. We arrived at my room first. I paused a moment ... remembering the first time I was shown into 'my room.' That was a long time ago, but now, it seemed like it was just yesterday.
"Matilda, what's the matter?"
"Nothing dear friend, I was just lost in some memories. I have so much to tell you, it'll probably take weeks to tell you everything. You've been my guardian angel, my bodyguard and my best friend, now you're my study partner." I opened the door and we went in. "Welcome home, Mary Beth."
"Wow, this is nice. This is our room?"
I giggled a bit before responding, "Not quite, although I wouldn’t mind sharing a room with you. You might complain in a few years though. This is my room. Your room is next door."
"Really? We ‘each’ have a room this size?"
"Yes, matching rooms, closest full of clothes, private bathroom, and a ‘huge’ bed."
"Matilda, what's that on your bed?"
I had been so excited showing Mary Beth around, that I hadn't noticed the box lying by my pillow. "I don't know! It wasn't there when I changed my clothes."
Going over, I picked up the box. It somehow seemed familiar, the size, the shape, the weight. I was about to open it when I remembered that shape. Holding the box in one arm, I grabbed Mary Beth's hand and we dashed through the interconnecting door into her room.
“OUCH! Take it easy,” she moaned as I’d tugged too hard. On her bed was a matching box. I knew my suspicion was correct, I started crying.
"Now what's the matter?" she asked.
I let go of her hand and pointed to the box on her bed. Then, hugging the box in my arms I sat on the couch and continued crying. I knew what was in the boxes, and I remembered where I'd seen the nightgown and pajamas before, the ones that Ellen had provided us while we were in the hospital. At that moment, I knew that Mary Beth was not the only one being surprised today.
Mary Beth picked up the box from her bed and joined me on the couch. Together, slowly we opened the boxes. Then Mary Beth started crying too.
In each box was a note
Best Friends need Best Friends.
Welcome to Immigration Manor.
Ellen
Mary Beth and I were both crying as we hugged each other, as well as our new friends.
Oh, by the way, besides the note, Mary Beth's box contained 'Samantha.' My box contained 'Nellie.'
That is her adventures before joining Immigration Manor.
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Education in the Hills
Author:
Organizational:
Audience Rating:
Taxonomy upgrade extras:
Immigration Manor PDA - For fans of Education in the Hills
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Themes:
TG Elements:
Other Keywords:
Permission:
Are you a fan of Penny Reed Cardon's wonderful Education in the Hills? Have you been wondering how to keep track of all the fascinating people in this series? Wonder no more! By popular demand, we proudly present the Immigration Manor PDA! Just click on the PDA below and get things started, then click on the tabs and page buttons at the top of the screen to start browsing. Enjoy! :)
Story and characters copyright 2006-2007 by Penny Reed Cardon
iNode online PDA simulator copyright 2007 by Heather Rose Brown
Education in the Hills - chapter 1
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Elements:
Permission:
The symbols for the International Thespian Society are two masks.
One mask represents comedy and the other represents tragedy.
Why must there be tragedy?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support and input.
There were several others who helped with the huge task of creating the many characters
Sephrena, Chris W, Aaron B, and HER.
I almost bit off more than I wanted to chew,
but with the help of kind friends,
a new story is born.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 1
By Penny Reed Cardon
Hello, my name is Matilda, my friends commonly referred to me as 'Munchkin', I guess because I'm a little on the small side. My friends and I are students at a very, unique school, buried deep within the everlasting hills of the western United States, and these are our adventures.
My name wasn't always Matilda. I was named Matthias when I was born, but everyone called me Matt. My early childhood wasn't anything special or out of the ordinary. Dad was a Marine and we lived on base. I had a few friends, but spent most of my time at home, with my Mother. When I was four or five Dad, left the Marine Corps and we moved to Salt Lake City.
I started school when I was six, just like everyone else, which was okay until I realized that it meant I wouldn't be spending my afternoons with my Mother. I was in tears every afternoon when Mom took me to school.
That was when I met Mary Beth. She adopted me ... well, sort of. She accepted me as one of her friends, and as time went on, we became best friends. She was bigger than I was and stronger too, but then everyone was bigger and stronger than I was. Mary Beth protected me from the bullies, and I helped her with her schoolwork.
During the summer, between Kindergarten and First Grade, I made a discovery that changed my life. I realized that my sisters’ clothes were nicer to wear than mine were. More important, was how I felt when I wore them. When I wore girls clothes, I was happy, cheerful and helpful. When I couldn't, I became sad and grumpy. I knew, somewhere deep inside that I was suppose to be wearing girls clothes, even though my body had boy parts. I knew that nobody else would understand how I felt, so I didn't tell anyone, not Mom, not even Mary Beth.
During April, as Third Grade was winding down, the first tragedy struck ... at least, I thought it was a tragedy, … Mom caught me wearing Rachael's clothes. What seemed really odd, was that she didn't yell at me. The next three months are a blur, now. Mom seemed to understand how I felt, even though I couldn't explain it.
That was when Mom told me that if I'd been born a girl, my name would have been Matilda. She arranged for me to see some people who could help me, and even got me some nice girls clothes of my own, but only so I'd stop borrowing from my younger sister, Rachael, who by the way, also had me figured out. Both Mom and Rachael started calling me Matilda, which made me feel even better.
One day, at the park, Mary Beth found out about me being Matilda and you know what? She didn't hate me, either. In fact, we became even better friends. She even invited me to her birthday party as Matilda. That's when the whirlwind started. With the help of some new friends, I learned how to look, act and behave like the girl that in my heart I truly am.
Mary Beth's birthday party was fabulous. I'd never felt more alive, I was a girl, and everyone loved and accepted me. I was a little sad as I realized what I'd missed all the years past.
The next Monday, Daddy found out about Matilda. To say that he was upset would be a gross understatement. What seemed worse was that the school bully, Bartholomew Roberts, or as he was known by his victims 'Black Bart', also found out about Matilda. The next eight weeks of my life became a living nightmare. After eight weeks of being abused and tortured, both at home and at school, with no possibility of making it stop, I decided to take advantage of the only option available to me.
I am so grateful that my Mother and Rachael found me and got me some help before it was too late.
Mary Beth and I spent three days in the hospital. I was there for observation following my suicide attempt, and Mary Beth was being treated for cracked ribs and assorted bruises; which she’s suffered at the hands Black Bart.
After we were discharged, we were transported to Immigration Manor, a most unique school, where special and talented children can excel to their full potential. Well, actually, I was discharged, Mary Beth was umm, well … she wasn’t discharged, but Ellen arranged for her to leave anyway. After our arrival at the Manor, which was where I had been given my training on how to be a girl, I gave Mary Beth the tour, all right, just the tour of our rooms. The eye catcher is the king size bed in each room, 'Now answer me this question; what does a ten year old need with a king size bed?' Next, is the walk-in closet, which is huge, it’s almost as big as my bedroom back home. The closet is packed with clothes. One side is all girls’ clothes and the other side is all boys’ clothes, and across the back of the closet are clothes that could be worn by boys or girls. On top of everything else, each room has its own private bathroom, 'YES! No more fighting over the bathroom.’
Oh, by the way, if you want to know more details about my life, before I arrived at Immigration Manor, you need to read, “Raised in SLC.” My friends and I had some really, fun times, and some not so fun times. Oh yea one more thing, you can umm, ... You can skip the ninth chapter if you want, it wasn't much fun.
)-: :-)
Mary Beth and I had stopped shedding tears of joy and were merely chatting when there was a knock on my door. Being that we were in her room, I opened her door and looked down the hall. "Hello Ellen, we're in here."
"Good evening girls. Well Mary Beth, what do you think of the, uh, meager, accommodations?" Ellen inquired with a giggle, as she sat down next to us.
"Oh this room is great! I'm used to something that's less than half this size, and that's one big closet. I have a question though; why are there boy clothes in my closet?"
"Everyone here has the same selection of clothing to choose from. As I mentioned before, how you present yourself is entirely up to you. Some of our students present themselves as male one week and female the next. That is, of course, their choice, as it is yours. How you dress is pretty much up to you. There will be some exceptions, times when you will be required to dress a certain way, but we'll discuss that later. Speaking of how you're dressed, Matilda, you haven't changed out of your school uniform. Would you like a little time to do so?"
"No, I'm fine. You said I could change into something comfortable, … Well," I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm comfortable in these clothes."
"You know, Matilda, there aren't very many of the students who would share that sentiment. Most of them change out of their uniforms as soon as possible. They've even got a petition going to try and get the rules changed."
"I remember Beca saying that they were trying to get that changed when Rachael and I were on tour, that first day I was here," I commented.
"When was Rachael here? For that matter when were you here before?" demanded Mary Beth.
"Tonight Mary Beth. Tonight, I'll tell you everything, tonight," I giggled.
"All right, but I expect to be told everything."
"That’s a good idea. Before you two get carried away, I need to tell you about a couple of rules. First there is the curfew," Ellen started.
"Curfew? We have a curfew?" exclaimed Mary Beth.
"Yes, all students, years A through F, have a 10:00 p.m. curfew, years G and H have an 11:00 p.m. curfew. That is, you must be in your rooms by that time. There is no set time for ‘lights out’; you are trusted to be sensible, that's Rule Number Two. Rule Number One, and this is the other biggie, when the two of you are alone, you must be dressed. That is, you must be wearing at least your underwear."
"EEW! Why would I want her to see me without my clothes on?" quizzed Mary Beth. "As for seeing Matilda without her underwear, well ... I've seen Matt naked too many times when Black Bard stripped her. I don't want to see it again. Besides I wouldn't want to embarrass her."
"Just the same, both rules will apply all the time that you're students here. There are some other school rules, but we can discuss them later. Are you ready to meet the rest of year A?"
I looked at Mary Beth, smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. She smiled back and nodded.
"We're ready Ellen. Are our friends welcome in the lounge and at dinner?" I asked, indicating Nellie and Samantha.
Ellen giggled, "You two may be starting a new trend. But I don't see any reason that your friends can't go to the lounge and dinner with you, however, going to classes is out of the question."
"What do you mean, 'starting a new trend'?" Mary Beth inquired.
Ellen shook her head and chuckled before responding, "You aren't the first to have special friends. You are just the first to have such elegant friends. I'm afraid that you won't be the last."
The five of us left the room, with Ellen in the lead. We went down to the first floor, to a door at the end of the hall. "This is the year A lounge. It belongs to the year A students. Anyone else wishing to enter must be invited."
Ellen knocked and we waited, but only for a few seconds before the door opened. “Hello Ellen, we've been expecting you. Please, come in."
"Thank you, Aaron."
We followed Ellen into the room where I quickly assessed my surroundings. Two square tables with inlaid black and white tiles, presumably for chess or checkers; two large oval coffee tables; five love seats and four large couches; a large fireplace that hadn't been used in some time, with a large picture window on each side; a forty-two inch plasma display on one wall; there was a computer on a desk, below the plasma display; two doors; eighteen students, and Mr. Peterson. 'What a lounge!'
"Good evening everyone," Ellen greeted.
"Hello, Ellen," several students chorused.
"Mr. Peterson, I'm glad you were able to juggle your schedule on such short notice, so you could be with us this evening," continued Ellen.
"Come now, Ellen. You know I 'm always present for the introduction of new students.”
“Attention everyone," Mr. Peterson called as he moved to stand behind Mary Beth and me. "I know it's unusual to have students starting in the middle of the year. However, the circumstances’ surrounding these two young ladies is unusual, but then, so are they. I'd like to introduce to you, Mary Beth and Matilda."
"Isn't she too little?"
"I thought their was an age limit here!"
"Which one is which?"
"I've got a little brother that's bigger than she is."
"Why are they carrying dolls?"
All of those comments flew from different parts of the room before you could blink once. 'Is it too late to change my mind?'
"All right you guys, enough with the heckling. I know it is one of your hobbies, but wait until they know you well enough to know that you are only joking." This came from a girl with long brown hair. She stood as she spoke, and came towards us. "Hi, I am Jenny. I guess you could say that I am in charge of this group of misfits, being that Aaron and I are the year leaders."
"Goodness, Jenny," Mr. Peterson cut in, "I was wondering what kind of welcome you and the 'Black Sheep' had in mind. Maybe we should have done the introductions in my office."
"Oh, this was nothing; I vetoed most of what they wanted to do. Mr. Peterson, why do you call us the ‘Black Sheep’?" Jenny asked.
"We'll have to save that for later, right now we need to finish the introductions and then see what the chef has on the menu."
"Oh, very well …" Jenny offered Mary Beth her hand. Shaking hands, Jenny looked at Mary Beth carefully, and then said, “Welcome to Immigration Manor.” Lowering her voice she added, "I do not know you."
Turning to me she continued, "but you, ... I never forget a face. It is ... Matilda, is it not? I never thought I would see your face again." Returning to her normal voice, she giggled, "I am right, you are the one?"
At least I now knew of one other trekkie here. The line was Khan, but she sounded more like Data, I wasn’t sure what she meant about being ‘the one’, "I'm not sure I know what you mean?"
"You have been here before. I know that I have met you before. Only I sense that ... you are different, … something about you has changed." Suddenly Jenny threw her arms around me, startling me. "It is you, Matilda! It has been about nine weeks since your graduation and the ball. But, you have been changed somehow, something terrible has happened to you, but you are Matilda."
"That's enough Jenny!" Mr. Peterson chuckled, "You're going to scare her away. Jenny has a special gift; she … senses things about people."
Jenny let go and stepped back. "I am sorry, I did not mean to ..."
"That’s alright, Jenny, and yes, I am that, Matilda." I smiled as I looked into her eyes as I confessed my identity.
Jenny smiled, then turned towards the others, "I am right! It is the little girl that was here before, the one from outside."
'Call me little one more time and I'll rearrange your grades,' I thought.
When the other students didn't respond, she continued. "Oh come on you guys! You must remember her! She is the only girl that has ever graduated from girl 101 AND 102 in six days!" That brought out positive reactions from everyone.
"All right Jenny, you've solved that mystery. Do you want to get on with the introductions, or shall I do the honors?" Ellen asked.
"I will take care of it!" Jenny professed, as she glanced over her shoulder at Ellen. "As I call your names please stand and say hello. Aaron; my study partner and co-year leader, you met at the door. The rest of the gang goes like this; George," "Hello." "Jack," "Howdy." "Barbara," "Good evening." "Christina," "It's a pleasure." "Abby," "Welcome." "Wally," "Hi yawl." "Nicole," "Greetings" "Hope," "Welcome to our little corner of the world" "Anthony," "Hi" "Emerald," "Salutations" "Deanna," "Welcome" "Peggy," "A pleasure to make your acquaintance" "Howard," "Aloha" "Vikk," "Hello." "Misaki," "Konnichi wa" "and Morgan." "G'day" "We are kind of a wild group, and you may think we are a little strange, that is until you get to know us. Then you will know for certain that most of us are really insane, but we all get along and have a good time."
"Jenny, you almost sound like Pappy Boyington," Mr. Peterson chuckled.
"Like who?"
"Pappy Boyington,” I responded, before Mr. Peterson could. “Actually, he was Major Gregory Boyington, but all the men in the squadron called him Pappy. He was the commander of a squadron of misfit fighter pilots in the South Pacific during W.W.II, known as 'The Black Sheep'. They may have been misfits, but their record for enemy aircraft shot down has never been broken, at least not that I know of. They were the very best fighter pilots of their time. Personally, I would consider it an honor to be known as 'The Black Sheep'."
"So much for explaining it later," sighed Mr. Peterson, looking at his PDA. "All right everyone, if we don't hurry, we're going to miss dinner. Shall we be off?" He motioned toward the door with his arms.
Everyone headed for the door and then on to the cafeteria. Mary Beth and I were near the front of the group, being that we were close to the door as we left. As we crossed the lawn, it seemed that Mary Beth was moving slower than normal, for her. I even saw her wince in pain a couple of times. Of course, I matched her pace. As we entered, I noticed that only the six large tables were being used, then I remembered that years A — C eat together and D — H eat later. There were about ten students at each table, along with one adult. I found out later that the adults were staff psychiatrists and that they rotate from table to table. Our group was the last to arrive, so there wasn’t a line waiting to be served. I helped Mary Beth as we got our dinners and went back into the dining room. I was wondering where we should sit when I saw Mr. Peterson motioning us to a table that had our names on name tags.
"Are we assigned seats?" I asked in general, not to anyone in particular.
"Seats no, table yes," answered Morgan.
After everyone took their seats, Mr. Peterson stood behind Mary Beth and I. "Good evening everyone, I'd like to introduce two new students. This is Matilda, whom some of you might recognize, and her study partner Mary Beth. They are obviously year A students, but we won't hold that against them. I know you will all help to make them welcome here. Thank you."
After Mr. Peterson sat down most of the students started eating, but I noticed that one or two at each table, bowed their heads and prayed. I pointed this out to Mary Beth; she smiled and nodded in agreement. We both bowed our heads and said a silent prayer of thanks before starting our meal.
This action didn't go unnoticed by the others at our table. Christina asked, "Hey you two, what's with the head bowing?"
"Just thanking our Father in Heaven," answered Mary Beth.
"Look out gang, we got a couple of tambourine beaters among us," Jack cautioned.
"Tambourine beaters?" I was puzzled.
"Tent followers, evangelists’ groupies, religious fanatics, 'Praise the Lord' and all sinners be dammed, if they’re not converted or reborn, 'Tambourine beaters'," explained Misaki.
"Ahh, I've never heard it phrased that way before," I confessed.
"Well,” Mary Beth stated, “Matilda and I are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints, and there are certain things that we believe."
"But we’re not here to convert anyone. If you want to talk about religion, we could probably find someone who knows more than we do. If you don't want to talk about it that's fine too," I added. 'I guess I'll ask Ellen later what they do for church services on Sundays.'
"Well, I guess that's okay," replied Jack. "When I was home, we had people from ever ligion under the sun knocking on the door. Viting us to this meeting, or that tent service, or telling us we needed to be baptized or we'd be dammed. Dad got so tired of it, he got hisself a huge dowg, kept him on a long chain in the front yard. That dowg kept all them tambourine beaters away. I just don’t wana be bugged about not going ta church for the next eight years."
“You can relax, neither of us owns a tambourine. Besides, I’m sure there are some rules about harassing the other students,” Mary Beth tried to calm things down.
“Anyway, that’s no way to treat your friends, and I’m sure, before long, we’ll all be good friends,” I added, trying to change the subject from religion to friendship. I was successful, and the rest of dinner passed quickly. After dinner, everyone rushed back to the lounge. Mary Beth and I followed but at a much slower pace. Once there we sat, so Mary Beth could rest while chatted with some of the others, getting to know each other a little better.
About 7:30, we all went over to the auditorium for choir practice, ‘I think tomorrow Mary Beth and I will start out at 7:15. I wonder what Dr. Harris meant by limited activity?’ My mind was again flooded by memories; the last time I had been on that stage was for my graduation. ‘Seems like yesterday, funny how the mind can play tricks on you like that, merging good memories together and trying to throw away the bad ones.’
Jenny and Aaron introduced us to the choir director, Phyllis Taylor, “Good evening, Mrs. Taylor," they said together. "I would like to introduce our two newest students. This is Matilda," Jenny said. "And this is Mary Beth,” added Aaron.
“I’m pleased to meet you both. I didn't know we were expecting new students."
"Did you not get the memo?" Jenny giggled.
"Jenny, if that had come from anyone else I'd believe that I'd really had missed something, but from you … it must be a joke." Mrs. Taylor giggled, as she was now teasing Jenny. "Have either of you sung in a choir before?”
“Not really, just in church,” I answered.
“The same goes for me. Although I did try out for the fourth grade Christmas program at my school, but that was before the excitement started,” added Mary Beth.
“That’s all right girls. Jenny, for tonight we’ll have them stand with the large group of year A students. I’ll arrange some time to audition their voices and see where they will fit. It won’t be tomorrow, but sometime within the next few days. Just keep an eye on your PDA schedules and it will show up,” concluded Mrs. Taylor.
“But we don’t have PDA’s,” Mary Beth announced.
“Not to worry, Ellen sent me a message a little while ago. She wants both of you in her office right after breakfast, tomorrow morning. I am sure you will get your PDA then along with the rest of the school rules,” Jenny explained.
“Well, Mary Beth will probably be getting her PDA, but I don’t think I'll be getting one any time soon. I'm still on restricted access,” I said, just a little sadly.
“Everyone here has a PDA,” Aaron stated matter-of-factly.
“Not Matilda! At least not an ordinary PDA,” snickered Mary Beth.
“I do not understand. Why not?” Jenny’s curiosity had been piqued.
“Well let’s say that she tends to get into trouble when she has access to a computer,” Mary Beth giggled as she put an arm around me, giving me a gentle hug. “Isn’t that right, dear friend?”
“I wouldn’t say I get into trouble; it just sort of ... follows me around," I had to giggle. "Anyway, Ellen said I needed to be checked out by someone ... um, I think she said RJ,”
"He's the system administrator,” Aaron informed us. “He also teaches the computer, and computer related classes. He's away right now, he's been gone for a week, but should be back some time next week."
"He probably went to take a refresher course in computer security, after he heard Matilda was coming," teased Mary Beth.
"Oh come now, I'm not that bad!" I protested.
Mrs. Taylor, who'd been giggling at our verbal exchange, put an end to the mutual teasing, “Well, we really need to get started. By whatever means necessary, I’ll arrange to see each of you sometime within the next three days. Jenny, would you ask Roberta to get them the music they’ll need tonight? I’ll arrange for a complete portfolio to be delivered to their rooms so they can practice.”
Jenny's curiosity was still aroused. "So, what did Matilda do to get her into so much troubled?" she asked Mary Beth as we went to find Roberta.
"The question is what didn't she do?" I dropped back a bit and shook my head. 'That's my best friend, teasing again. I haven't paid attention to it for a while, but I still like the way the long hair tickles my ears.’ "Anyway, it's a long story, and I'm sure that Matilda doesn't want to go through it more than once. Let's wait until some time Saturday. Then we can learn more about everyone else as well."
"Hello Roberta. This is Mary Beth and Matilda, obviously new. Mrs. Taylor would like you to get them the music they'll need for tonight's rehearsal," Aaron announced.
"Welcome to the Manor. It's a pleasure to meet you both. Do you know what parts Phyllis want's you to sing?"
"We don't know yet," Mary Beth replied.
"She said that she'd work with us in a day or two to see where our voices fit," I added.
"That's okay; we're just working on some Christmas Carols this evening. It's a little odd to be adding new students six weeks before a field trip, though," Roberta said.
"A Field Trip! Where?" I asked excitedly.
"Easy girl, nothing to get that excited about. We're doing three concerts in Toronto, Canada. Besides, how do you know about field trips?" Roberta asked.
"Roberta, this is Matilda!" Jenny repeated the introduction.
"Yes, you said that, so?"
"Roberta, think back about nine weeks, a graduation, followed by a ball," Jenny spoke softly, taking Roberta back in time.
"You mean that she is ..."
"Yes! She is that Matilda."
'I wish they'd stop doing that, I'm just me, nobody special.'
"Well, this is a surprise. Welcome back, Matilda." Roberta got the music we needed and Mary Beth and I took our places on stage with year A. Jenny put me right in front. She said it was so I could see Mrs. Taylor, but I'm not so sure. Several of our group weren't with us. I noticed that three were in the orchestra, and there were several of our group that I didn’t see at all.
I'm not sure I could say that Choir practice went well, being that this was my first time. What can I say about spending two hours on my feet, singing the same five songs over, and over with one short break for water: One, I needed a bathroom: Two, my feet hurt, my jaw hurt and my throat hurt: Three, I don't think I've ever been happier when a computer or book wasn't involved.
Just outside the stage door, they'd setup some tables with bottles of different fruit juices. 'This is great! A little cranberry/apple will take care of the throat. Now where is the nearest restroom? ' I was looking up and down the hall, trying to decide which way to try. Suddenly someone grabbed my hand; a quick look brought a smile to my face.
"Hello, Beca."
"Hi, Munchkin, it's this way." She started leading me down the hall.
"What's this way?"
"The bathroom, silly."
"But how did you know that I was looking for ..."
"Matilda, do you really have to ask that question?” Beca giggled. “I'm your big sister, remember? I spent almost two weeks with you. Two hours is about your limit. Now come on, move your feet a little faster."
We rounded the corner and about thirty feet down the hall we arrived at an alcove, the entrance to the restrooms. Men's on the right and women's on the left. Naturally, I headed right.
"Just where do you think you're going?" Beca asked as she pulled on my hand, bringing me to a stop.
"I'm going into the restroom."
"Are you Matthias, or Matilda?"
"I'm Matilda, why?"
"Well, Matilda's a girl, isn't she? Do girls use the men's restroom?"
"But ..."
"Matilda, this is Beca you're talking to, remember. I’ve been doing this for a lot longer than you have. Besides, nobody is going to say anything. Remember, this is Immigration Manor! If you're presenting yourself as male, then you use the men's room. If you're presenting yourself as female, you use the ladies room. It's really that simple. Now you have a choice to make little sister. We can stand here discussing the differences in gender until something embarrassing happens, or you can come inside to take care of your more immediate needs."
"Let's see now, that's a tough choice," I giggled. "Lead on, Sis." I followed Beca into the restroom.
Beca and I were greeted with friendly hellos, by several other girls. Beca responded cheerfully. My response was just a bit timid, but friendly. I found an empty stall and made use of it.
As I emerged, I saw a very familiar face, although not a happy one. "All right Matilda, where have you been?"
I stopped, dead in my tracks; looked at Mary Beth, looked back at the stall I'd just vacated and then looked back at Mary Beth. I smiled as I shook my head, then asked, "Mary Beth, are we going to have this conversation ever time I have to commune with Mother Nature?"
Several of the other girls giggled. "Okay, what's your real question? And is this really where you want to discuss it?"
"I guess you're right. It's almost 10:00. We’d better get back to our rooms."
We hurried back to our rooms. 'Gee wiz, it's getting to be cold at night, but then it is almost the end of October. I'll have to remember to take a coat next time.'
"We have lots to talk about, Mary Beth. I think we should get ready for bed first, and then talk."
"I agree! Get yourself changed and into my room in fifteen minutes!" Mary Beth commanded as she went through the interconnecting door into her room, pulling it shut. Just before she closed the door she called out, "Don't forget to brush your teeth."
I giggled, "Yeessss, Mother!"
I went into my bathroom. I realized that I still had on my makeup from this morning, which I quickly removed. Then I brushed my teeth, and dropped everything except panties, down the laundry chute. There was quite an assortment of nightwear to choose from, just as Ellen had indicated. 'Last spring and summer, Rachael and I were swapping short frilly nighties back and forth, but considering that I’m still a little cold from walking back from the theater I think something warmer will be nice. I'm sure Mary Beth will be in something short and frilly.'
I finished getting ready, picked up Nellie and knocked on the interconnecting door.
"Just a minute," Mary Beth called out.
'I wish I had some other clothes for Nellie, she could use a nightgown or two. I wonder if Ellen thought about ...' I headed back to my closet to do some searching. I'd gone through about half of my drawers when someone knocking on my open closet door startled me.
"Good heavens, Mary Beth, are you trying to scare me out of a year’s growth?" I giggled, just because it was a silly thing to say, also because I was right about Mary Beth's choice of nightwear.
"I thought you were ready. You did knock a few minutes ago."
"Yes I'm ready. I was just looking for some other clothes for Nellie."
"You're not going to find any in here. The closet is for your clothes. Nellie's clothes are in the doll trunk under your bed."
"And how do you know there's a doll trunk under my bed?"
"Actually it's just a guess, based on the fact that I found one under my bed."
I went to look, and sure enough, the trunk was there. Placing the trunk on the table and sitting on the couch, I asked, "So where would like to talk, your room, or mine?"
As I was looking for a nightgown for Nellie, Mary Beth sighed, "I guess here, seeing that you're occupied."
"Okay." I started changing Nellie's clothes. I was suddenly very tired and ...
... When I became aware of my surroundings I was sitting on the floor, doll clothes were scattered around, and Mary Beth was lying on my bed watching me.
"Um, what happened?" I was a bit confused.
"Welcome back," Mary Beth replied.
"Welcome back? Back from where?"
"You tell me, and we'll both know. Matilda, how old are you?"
"Mary Beth you're not making sense, you know that I'm ten. You brought cupcakes to school so we could celebrate my birthday, remember?"
"Yes, I remember that day. However, for the last hour you’ve been six, and you weren't here."
"What do you mean I wasn't here? Where did I go?"
"All right, you were here, but your mind wasn't. You were acting like a six year old. You started to change Nellie's clothes and something happened. You began acting like a little girl with her dolls. You talked to her, as if she would answer. You went through all the clothes in the chest, mixing different outfits. Matilda, I was scared, I didn't know if you were going to come back or not." As she talked, she joined me on the floor and began hugging me.
"What did you do?" I'd laid Nellie down and was hugged her back, easing up when she moaned; reminding me to be gentle on her ribs.
"I wasn't sure what to do. I went to the year lounge, but no one was there as it was after ten. I knocked on the nearest door; I think it was Barbara’s and Christina’s, and asked them to get in touch with Ellen, and to have her come to your room. Then I rushed back here. You'd moved from the couch to the floor. Other than that, you were a little girl, happily playing with her doll."
"Did Ellen come here?"
"Yes, she was here for about fifteen minutes. She sat on the floor with you, tried to talk with you, helped you with Nellie and then she left. She asked me to keep an eye on you. She said something about it only being fair. She also told me to have someone get in touch with her if you tried to hurt any one. She want’s me to make sure that you make it to her office in the morning."
"Well, did I?"
"Did you what?"
"Did I try to hurt anyone?"
"No! You just sat there, talking to Nellie. You didn't appear to notice anything or anyone."
"Mary Beth, I'm scared."
"I know, Matilda, I know. Come on, girl. Let's get to bed. We'll put this stuff away in the morning."
"Mary Beth ..."
"Don't worry, dear friend, I'm not going anywhere."
Mary Beth tried to help me up, but her ribs screamed NOOO! I helped her up instead. We took turns in the bathroom. Mary Beth folded down the blankets on my bed while I was in the bathroom. I stood by the door of the bathroom - staring at everything on the floor, too scared of what had happened to move.
Mary Beth tucked me into bed, turned off the lights, then she went around and got into the other side. Snuggling up behind me, she wrapped one arm around my waist. 'I still don't know why I need a king size bed, a standard double would be big enough for the two of us.'
"Matilda? What did Ellen mean when she said that it would only be fair, for me to watch over you?"
I sighed heavily before responding, "Remember when Dr. Harris was taking the tape off, you and they gave you some pills, so you wouldn't hurt so much?"
"Yes, I remember taking the pills."
"What do you remember after taking the pills?"
"Well, it took a while to get all that tape off. Um, I don't remember anything after else."
"After you took the pills it took over half an hour to get all the tape off you. You were acting pretty goofy by then. Your speech was slurred and you weren't making sense. You fell asleep before Dr. Harris and Marie finished. I held you up so they could finish putting the elastic bandages and hospital gown on you. Then we laid you down. Your breathing wasn't right, and I was really worried about you. I sat up most of last night, watching over you."
"Oh, Matilda, I didn't know, … thank you." Mary Beth was in tears as she realized how much she meant to me.
"Of course you didn't know, you were asleep. I just felt it was important to watch over you."
"Well I glad that I found out. Now I'll watch over you and make sure that you're all right."
Sigh, "Goodnight, Mary Beth."
"Goodnight, Matilda."
I woke early as usual. It took several timeless moments before I remembered where I was. The fact that it was completely dark didn't help. Once I'd remembered where I was, I crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom in the dark. Tripping and falling twice and fumbling around a little I finally made it, only ... I was just a little late. 'Darn, it's been a year or more since this has happened! When is my stupid bladder going to catch up with the rest of me? I'll bet whoever does the laundry won't be happy with me …' I dropped everything down the laundry chute and took a quick shower. Putting on the bathrobe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door, I headed for the closet and some clean clothes. I left the closet light on with the door partway open so I could see where I was going. I got back into bed, trying not to wake Mary Beth.
I was however unsuccessful, as usual. "Where have you been?" she mumbled softly.
"Bathroom."
"Why is the closet light on? Is everything all right?"
"Yes Mary Beth, everything is fine. Go back to sleep." ‘I wonder if no secrets really means NO secrets.'
"Okay, night," she mumbled sleepily.
"Goodnight."
'It's a good thing that she's so sleepy, she didn’t notice that I'm mad at myself again. I guess there's no way to hide something like this. I'll just have to tell Mary Beth in the morning. I just hope we can keep it from the rest of the school. I don't need to go through that again.'
When I woke up again, I was alone. Moments later, Mary Beth walked through the interconnecting door, wearing a bathrobe, drying her hair.
"Morning sleepyhead. You better get in the shower so we can go to breakfast."
"Ahh, I had a shower earlier," I muttered softly.
"So I was right, and it was my fault, wasn't it?"
"Right about what? What was your fault?"
"Matilda, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you a problem." Mary Beth tossed her towel on the bed as she hugged me.
"Sorry about what?"
"I turned off all the lights, last night. It's my fault you couldn't get to the bathroom fast enough. I'm sorry; I'll never do that again. Will you please forgive me?"
'What's happening here? I have an accident, and Mary Beth is apologizing for it? This doesn't sound right for some reason.’ "Mary Beth, it's not your fault. If it's anybody's fault, it's mine. I should have told you to leave a light on."
"You did tell me, in the hospital you told me what would happen. There were always some lights on at the hospital. I just wasn't thinking. You were in unfamiliar surroundings and I turned off the lights. It's my fault, I'm so sorry." Mary Beth was in tears.
"Please, don't cry. I'm not mad at you; it's not your fault. If anyone is at fault I guess it would be, Mother Nature, for blessing me such a microscopic bladder in the first place."
Mary Beth stopped crying, but continued hugging and actually giggled. "You're right! After all, its just a little thing,"
'Mary Beth, if that was supposed to be a joke it wasn't funny.'
"Oh, I mean it's just a little problem. Working together, you'll never have to worry about it again. I promise I'll see that you're never left in the dark again."
We hugged each other for a few more minutes before Mary Beth went back to her room. I dressed quickly. As I sat on the couch putting on my shoes, Mary Beth knocked on the interconnecting door. "Come in," I called out.
Mary Beth was dressed, with one exception. She was carrying her blouse, although she was wearing a camisole.
"Mary Beth, what are you doing? Put your blouse on!" I exclaimed.
"It's like this; I know lots of intimate details about you. Now it's your turn."
"Wha, Wha, What are you talking about?" I stuttered. 'I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that question.'
"Matilda, will you help me with these silly elastic bandages?"
Giggling, with relief, "It would be my pleasure to assist you, dear friend. Can I assume that you want them wrapped around you, on top of your camisole?"
"Of course!"
After putting on the elastic bandages, I helped her with her blouse, as her movement was impaired. We then went down to the year lounge.
Jenny and Aaron were coming out as we arrived. "There you are! We were getting worried about … Matilda, what on earth happened to you?” Jenny exclaimed.
Aaron had already poked his head back through the door and called out, " Come on gang, they're here. Let's eat!"
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your face is covered with bruises. I do not remember seeing them yesterday. What happened?”
By now most of the others had come out of the lounge and had gathered around, asking pretty much the same question. Once everyone was quite I explained that yesterday I had been wearing makeup that covered the bruises. I also had to explain how I got them, that was the hard part. Mary Beth stood behind me, arms around my shoulders with my head resting against her, of course, I was crying. Someone produced a handkerchief, for which I was grateful. It was several minutes before I was collected enough to continue.
"Matilda, I am sure I speak for every one when I say how sorry we are for what has happened. We will all be here to help you in any way we can.” Jenny hugged me for a second, whispering, “I sensed something terrible had happened. I am so sorry that I was right.”
Releasing me, she stepped back and continued, “Changing the subject; on weekdays we usually get together in the morning before breakfast to go over the day’s schedule," Jenny continued.
"We're sorry, Jenny," Mary Beth apologized. "We weren't sure what time it was. There aren't clocks in the rooms."
"Sorry, that’s my fault," Aaron jumped in. "I forgot that you don't have PDA's yet, or even your bedroom computers. I should have checked on you earlier."
"That’s all right, no harm done. How does breakfast work here?" Mary Beth wanted to know.
"Don't get between Mary Beth and food, she might nibble on you," I teased.
"Hey,"
"I'm just teasing Mary Beth," I giggled, as I moved out of range of her fingers.
"All right you two, settle down,” Jenny giggled. “We better get going or we will be too late for breakfast. Well, that is not quite true, we will get breakfast, but we might have to settle for cold cereal."
We headed for the cafeteria. Mary Beth and I were the last to arrive - again.
As year A walked in, Mr. Peterson was going over some announcements. "Well, I’m glad to see that you've decided to join us this morning. I trust that you all slept well. Would you take your seats while I finish, then you can get your breakfasts."
"Is he mad at us?" I asked Misaki, being that she was next to me.
"Oh no, if he were mad at us, he wouldn't be smiling, also he would come to the lounge to talk to us. Now if he were upset at one or two, he would invite them to his office. I've heard rumors that the chairs in front of his desk are most uncomfortable."
"Thanks Misaki, I really wasn't sure."
"Anytime. Oh, by the way, call me Misa."
After we were seated Mr. Peterson continued, "I'm sure you're aware of the up-coming field trip to Toronto, and the 'Roy Thomson Hall'. As you know, in Toronto, both French and English are used fluently. There’s been a ... sudden change of plans. Before going to Toronto, we will be going to the city of Quebec for three days, and two performances in the 'Grand Théá¢tre de Québec'. As you may or may not know their predominant language is French. Therefore, as of noon today your PDA's will be in French, as will all radio and television. As you've been learning French, this should not be a problem. Obviously, this changes our departure schedule; therefore, all classes are canceled, with the exception of the French and music. As of today, mornings will be spent learning French, and the afternoons and evenings will be devoted to choir rehearsals. For those who weren’t paying attention, that means choir practice from 2:00 to 4:00 and from 6:30 to 9:30 every day. Mrs. Taylor has requested the extra time, as she has several new pieces for you to learn. There is one exception to the French only mandate; I'm allowing the Halloween Ball to proceed as planned, and in English. Thank you for your attention."
As Mr. Peterson sat down, the room came alive with conversation and questions. I nervously looked at Mary Beth and then at Aaera, this morning’s psychiatrist. I was about to ask her a question when Mr. Peterson stood up, calling for quiet. "It seems that even I, am capable of making mistakes. I forgot about one other exception to everything being in French, or perhaps it's two exceptions, and that would be our two new students, Mary Beth and Matilda. Communications with them will remain in English, at least for the time being. We've arranged for a special teacher for them. We'll let you know when their status changes."
Both Mary Beth and I sighed with relief. I looked at Aaera, "I guess that answers my unasked question."
We then went to get our breakfasts. Nothing special, but lots to choose from; scrambled eggs, fried eggs, omelets of various varieties, pancakes, waffles, French toast, hash browns, corn beef with hash, biscuits and gravy, as well as a selection of cereal. No I didn’t try everything, at least not all at once, but I did try something different each day.
Mary Beth and I headed for Ellen's office after we’d finished breakfast. I didn’t mind that Mary Beth was moving slowly, I’m not sure I want to see Ellen this morning.
"Good morning, girls. How was the rest of your night?"
"Umm, I guess it was okay. I mean, after I um, woke up, or came back from wherever I was. I'm still a little nervous about not remembering what I did for an hour," I said.
"I wouldn't let it worry you too much, Matilda. I've never heard of anyone who could remember what they did while they were sleepwalking, or in your case sleep-playing."
"Sleepwalking?" exclaimed Mary Beth. "Is that what she was doing? Just sleepwalking!"
"I’m not positive, but I'm pretty sure Matilda was just sleepwalking. After all, it was after 10:30 and her day started before 6:00 am. I also know that the day before, she was up from before 8:00 am and didn't go to sleep until well after 2:00 am. By my estimate, over the last forty hours she'd had maybe four hours of sleep. When she sat down on the couch to change Nellie's clothes, a simple pleasurable task, she fell asleep. She was sleeping so deeply, that sleepwalking was the result. I don't think it had anything to do with Nellie, I guess that she just went along for the ride."
"But it happened so suddenly," questioned Mary Beth.
"That is the strange part about it, but after I talked with Matilda while she was out of it ..."
The fact that Ellen and Mary Beth were talking about me, as if I wasn't there upset me a little. On the other hand, I was relieved to know that I wasn't more than two people. I had to admit that it had been two trying days, both physically and emotionally. As they were talking about me I leaned back relaxed and ...
"Matilda, ... Yoo hoo … Matilda. Wakie, wakie!" It was Mary Beth's turn to tickle my nose.
"What, oh, I'm sorry. I fell asleep, didn't I?"
"That's all right Dear, you've obviously been through more than any of us realized. I just need register your fingerprints to your PDA, and then I want Mary Beth to take you back to your room and put you in bed. I'm going to cancel your morning French lesson."
I suddenly realized Ellen had an arm around my shoulders. 'When did Ellen and Mary Beth trade places?' "But I've never cut class. I'll (yaaawn), ... I'll be fine."
"You'll be fine, will you? You're almost asleep again, and you're not cutting class; I've canceled it! Your health is more important than a class. Now quickly, before you drop off again." Ellen tapped several keys on a PDA, and then handed it to me. It was different from the ones we'd had at the hospital. Following her instructions, I registered my fingerprints on that PDA. "The charging station should be in your room by now. We'll have RJ go over all the features later, he will be returning on Monday. In the meantime, Mary Beth can show you how to access the school layout.” Turning to Mary Beth she continued, “Mary Beth, what I'd like you to ... “
"Come on, Matilda. Let's get you to bed," Mary Beth was giggling as she gently shook me.
"What? Oh, I guess I did it again, didn't I."
"Go on you two! Get out of here before she falls asleep again. Mary Beth, if she sleeps through lunch, send Jenny a note and she’ll have someone bring something to your room. Choir practice is at 2:00. Don't let her sleep past then, or she won't be able to sleep tonight."
"Thank you Ellen. I'll take good care of Matilda."
"Thank you, I'm sorry to be such a bother," I shyly added as we left Ellen's office.
Mary Beth kept one arm around me as we went down the hall. "Matilda, it's been a while, do you need to stop at the restroom before we head back to our rooms? It's just around the corner."
"How do you know that?"
"Ellen showed me how to locate all the restrooms on the PDA's maps."
"Why would she show you that?"
"After we talked about the mistake I made last night and the problem it caused you, she asked a few other questions. Well, one thing led to another, before I knew it I'd told her about everything we talked about this morning."
"WHAT?" I almost yelled, as I came to a sudden stop. "You told her about my bladder problem while I was asleep?"
"Umm, yes."
"That's just great! I thought you were my friend. If it's not too much to ask, what got you and Ellen talking about ME in the first place?"
"She was asking me about last night and this morning. It seems that the laundry had informed her about your wet clothes. She told me that it's not uncommon for some of the year A students to have a little problem now and then as they adjust to being away from home. She wanted to know it that’s what the problem was. I explained about your little problem, and that we’ve already talked about it. I also told her that we feel that with the two of us working together, we are sure that we have everything under control."
"What did she say about that?" I was much calmer after hearing the whole story.
"She said that for us to be talking to each other about such personal subjects on our first day here is … extraordinary."
"I guess I knew that I wouldn't be able to hide my little problem for very long. I was hoping I could keep it to myself for more than, twenty-four hours, though. I guess I can trust Ellen to keep it to herself and not tell anyone else." I'd gone from sleepy, to mad, to relieved, to needing some relief. "Mary Beth ... Where did you say that restroom was?"
Smiling, she replied, "This way," adding a giggle.
After a short stop, we were on our way again. The short time I'd been sitting allowed me to relax and I was once again on the verge of slumber. Mary Beth kept one arm securely around my shoulders as she guided me.
"Thank you, Mary Beth," I muttered, as she helped me remove my shoes and stockings.
"For what?"
"For being my friend, there's not too many who would want that job."
She giggled before replying, "Well, maybe not back at Whittier, but I think we'll find lots of friends here. Now lie down and go to sleep."
I didn't argue, I don't think I could if wanted to. I lay down and she covered me with a blanked and ...
"Rise and shine sleepy head. Time to get up, get some food into you, and then get to choir practice."
My eyes were suddenly assaulted by the sunlight as Mary Beth opened the curtains. This scene was so familiar that I giggled. I pulled the blankets over my head, "Can't I sleep for another half hour? MOM!"
I peeked out to watch the reaction to my calling Mary Beth, Mom. I'd figured her reaction correctly. She turned to face me with a huff and the look on her face said, 'How dare you'. She came over to my bed and flipped the blankets completely off me. Then she stood with her hands on her hips, like Robin Williams in the movie 'Hook', and announced, "First, I'm not your mother, I'm your study partner. And second," in a much kinder tone, "how do you feel after your little three hour, nap?"
"I feel terrific, strong enough to rough up a five-year-old. It's a good thing there aren't any around here."
"Yes, it's a good thing for you, you mean. Go to the bathroom and wash you face. Your lunch is waiting for you in my room."
I hopped out of bed and headed for the interconnecting door, "Did you say food?"
"Yes I did! I also said AFTER you’ve washed, so get moving! We don't want to be late to choir practice."
I turned about and started towards my bathroom as Mary Beth headed to her room. As we passed each other, she swatted my bottom.
"Ouch, what was that for?"
"That was for being silly. Do something bad and see what happens," she giggled.
I put on my very best, innocent, 'little ole me' look.
"Don't try that with me, silly friend, I know you too well for that to work."
I changed to my sad puppy-dog-face and whimpered.
"Oh, go on, you nut." We were both laughing as I went into my bathroom and Mary Beth closed the interconnecting door.
I quickly took care of business and knocked on the door. "Come in, silly."
That sounds like an invitation to be silly. Now what would be a silly way to enter? I swung the door open, dropped to my hands and knees. Slowly I crawled through the door; of course, I had put on my sad puppy-dog-face.
"Matilda, what are you doing?"
"Just being silly, as you instructed."
"I didn't tell you to be silly!"
"Yes you did. You said 'Come in silly'."
"I meant that you are silly, and for you to come in. Oh, just get over here and eat your lunch you nut! You're in one of your goofy moods, I see." Mary Beth shook her head and chuckled.
As I jumped up and sat on the couch next to Mary Beth, I hugged her, saying, "Thanks, I knew you would enjoy a little humor."
"I just hope you can contain your sense of humor during choir practice. Now let's eat and get going." She giggled again, still shaking her head.
I looked at the table; two plates with submarine sandwiches and an apple, all wrapped in cellophane. I'd seen this picture before, ... I started giggling as I remembered where and why.
"Now what are you giggling at?"
"I was remembering the last time I had a sub and fruit wrapped in cellophane. It was about ten weeks ago, and I was in trouble for telling you about the Manor."
"You never told me about this place."
"Oh yes I did, … well, sort of. Remember the day in Liberty Park, when I cried on your shoulder for an hour or more? I told you about the things I had to do learning to be a girl. Then my mother came to the park and then we went to my house for lunch. You were laughing at the tiny fork and spoon I was eating with, remember?"
"I remember that day. You never said anything about Immigration Manor."
"Oh, I never used the school’s name, but I told you about the tiny fork and spoon, about Miss Adams and Miss Baker. I told you almost everything."
"You were here?"
"Well actually, I was next door, in my room."
"I mean, you were here at the Manor?"
"Oh that! Well, yes. I spent seven days here, learning to walk, talk, eat and think like a girl. How did we do?"
"Well, ... You're the girlyest girl that I know. Someday we've got to teach you about girls’ pants. You don't need to wear skirts all the time," she giggled, poking my ribs.
"Would you like to explain about the panties with lace, and the short frilly nighties you like to wear, my girly girlfriend?" I giggled
"All right, all right, I guess we're both girly girls," giggling her reply. "If you're finished, we better get going."
"Sure thing. Let me get a jacket."
Mary Beth thought the jacket idea was a good one. She grabbed a jacket, then we went into my room, where I got one, and we were off.
Choir practice this afternoon was challenging. We spent the first half hour working on some carols in English. For the next hour and a half, we sang the same carols, only this time in French. When Mary Beth asked Mrs. Taylor what we should do, being that we don't know French, she told us that because we knew the carols in English, we should listen to the others and mimic what they were saying. She suggested that it would help in our lessons.
After practice, and during dinner, Mary Beth and I were very popular. Everyone wanted to know more about us, where we came from, what our specialties were, even the names of our dolls and where they came from. I had to confess that I didn’t know anything about a specialty. Ruth, today’s psychiriast was a little surprised by that. She indicated that it must have been an oversight and we would be assigned specialties very soon. We were talking so much, I almost didn't have time to eat. It took me a little while to figure out what was going on. There was more talking taking place at our table than any other. Only, the conversations at the other tables were in French. By talking to us, they could use English instead of French. That's was okay by me; it was still good to get to know more about each other.
After dinner, all of year A was sitting around in our lounge. We had about an hour before the second choir practice of the day. Some were working on their French homework; some were playing Monopoly, the Paris version, of course. Mary Beth and I were quietly talking about the last few days. Mary Beth and I had been here for almost two days now. I was really starting to miss my family. I knew that Mary Beth missed her family as well. I guess the fact that we were becoming homesick was a little too obvious, because Misa and Morgan came over to talk with us. Looking back, I realize that they were trying to lift our spirits. It was kind of them to help distract our thoughts. Misa, it turns out is quite an interesting person, both her parents are Japanese. She speaks Japanese fluently, and agreed to teach us.
There are twenty, year A students, including Mary Beth and me, so there was no reason for us to feel lonely. The problem is, the rest of them had all started here together last June, and they've had about five months to become friends. I knew that in a few months, we’d all be great friends, but for right now, it was just the two of us.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Jenny stopped what she was doing and went to see who had come to pay us a visit. It's odd when I think about it, that the staff and psychiatrists must ask permission to enter the lounge.
"Hallo Ellen, entrer s'il vous plait"
"Evening Jenny," Ellen replied solemnly, and in English, not French.
'She seems to be upset about something.'
"I need Matilda and Mary Beth to come with me." When I heard Ellen mention my name, I got up and started for the door. Even though they were speaking softly, I could make out what they were saying. "Jenny, I need several of you to be here when I bring them back. I don't want them left alone tonight, do you understand?"
"I am not sure what you mean ..."
"I mean, that they aren't to be left alone, Jenny! Several of you are authorized to skip choir practice, as I'm not sure when I'll be bringing them back."
"What about tonight?"
"Break out the sleeping bags, Jenny. Set them up here in the lounge, for as many of you that want to stay together tonight, to help comfort them. Please ask Howard and Vikk to be among those staying with them. Vikk will be able to help more than you know. But whoever stays with them, they're not to be left alone, for any reason."
"Hello Ellen. Is there a problem?" I asked.
"I'm afraid that there is. Would both of you come with me please?"
Ellen didn't wait for an answer as she turned and headed for the door. We quickly grabbed our jackets off the coat racks in the corner and followed Ellen, who led us out of the lounge and our dorm.
We went across the grass, skirting around the other buildings, instead of going through them. We were heading for a small two-story building at the far end of the complex, which I've not been in before. I took out my PDA to check on its designation. It came up as the school’s hospital. I showed the screen to Mary Beth, who looked as worried as I was.
As I put my PDA away, I took Mary Beth's hand. 'Now why is Ellen taking us to the hospital? Neither of us are sick, aside from a little home sickness.'
We entered and went through what was an obviously a seldom used waiting room, passing through a set of double doors, that told us this was definitely a hospital. Part way down the hallway there were some stairs. Ascending to the second story, we emerged into what looked like the nurses station at Primary Children's. To my surprise, Marie was there. She saw us and nodded to Ellen.
I was about to say hello when Ellen turned and went down the hall. Three rooms down, she stopped. "Ellen, what is it? Why are we here?" Ellen didn't say anything; I think she was on the verge of tears. She opened the door and indicated that we should enter.
Inside, Dr. Harris was checking on a patient in the bed. I guess this was the new job he mentioned to Dr. Farnsworth. In the corner, a woman was sitting bent over with her face in her hands. She was definitely crying.
"Dr. Harris?" I asked, timidly.
"Oh, Matilda, you're here ..."
Before Dr. Harris could say any more, the crying woman came up behind me and hugged me, still crying uncontrollably. It was then that I recognized her.
"Mom, what's going on? Why are you crying? Why are you here? What's happened? Why am I here?" Mom was crying too much to talk.
I still hadn't seen who was in the bed, as Dr. Harris was blocking my view. "Matilda," He began, "I want you to know how very sorry we all are about this. We're doing everything that we can for her. I don't think she is in any imminent danger. The x-rays show that there wasn't any damage to her internal organs. We've arranged for the very best people to take care of her. I'm afraid that her recovery is going to take a very long time. The casts will come off her arms in about two to three months. The big question we have, is will she be able to walk again? Well, ... we won't know that until the casts come off both of her legs in about seven or eight months. Of course, you'll be able to visit almost any time you want. I'm sure she will appreciate seeing someone besides me and Marie."
"Dr. Harris, what are you talking about? Who's in that bed?" My voice was trembling as I asked.
Dr. Harris wasn't blocking Mary Beth's view. She came over to me; put her arms around me as she was crying, along with Mom. 'Easy guys, I'm the small one, remember. I can't hold up both of you.'
"Matilda, I'm sorry," Dr. Harris apologized as he stepped aside. "But it's Rachael."
Lying on the bed before me was my little sister. She was unconscious, fortunately. Both her arms and legs were in casts, supported by traction ropes. There was a respirator tube tapped to her mouth. There were two IV bags hanging, I don't know where the needles were, obviously not in her arms.
'I don't know who did this to my sister, but I will find out, and they will pay for it. Someday, somehow, I will make them pay for what they have done, they are going to LIVE to regret this.'
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
Education in the Hills - chapter 2
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Why are we on suicide watch?
How do you insult almost an entire school, at one time?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 2
I simply stared at Rachael; I’d not shed a single tear while those around me continued to cry. I had a good idea of what happened, my growing anger wouldn’t let me speak.
After I'd calmed down a little, I needed to confirm my suspicion and asked, generally, "What happened?"
"I'm not positive," Dr. Harris stated. "She was unconscious when I first saw her. When the body suffers traumatic pain, the brain shuts down to prevent brain damage due to sensory overload. From the bits of information we got from your Mother, it had something to do with someone named Bart, if that makes any sense?"
"Yes, Dr. Harris, it makes sense to me. Today is Friday, and I wasn't in school. That means that Bart lost another $200. The same thing happened last Monday, that's when he beat up Mary Beth," I replied coldly, as I looked towards Ellen. "Does anyone know where he attacked her?"
"She was walking home from school. Exactly when it happened, we don't know," confessed Ellen. “All we are certain of is that someone found and recognized her, called your home and talked with Charles. Charles called your Mother, then she called me.”
"Dr. Harris, when will Rachael wake up?" I asked.
"I'm not exactly certain; sometime tomorrow morning, I hope. She’s sedated, and hooked up to the monitors. Marie will be on watch tonight," he replied.
I turned, at least I tried to turn towards Mom, "Mom ... Mom, where are Chuck and Karen?"
Mom didn't respond, other than to continue crying.
Ellen helped me by taking Mary Beth off my shoulder, so I was able to turn. "Mom … MOM, listen to me! Where are Charles and Karen?"
Although she was still crying, Mom managed to respond, "The Johnson's."
"They're staying with Bishop Johnson’s family?"
Mom responded by nodding.
"Well, I'm sure they will be okay there," I thought aloud. "Ellen, can Mom stay here tonight, I'm assuming there are some empty beds in this hospital?"
Ellen was taken by surprise at my question, "Um ... Yes, Edith can stay in the room next door. Matilda, I’m puzzled, why aren't you upset by what has happened?"
"Believe me, I AM upset, and once I relax, I'll probably be crying worse than Mom is, but right now I'm too mad to cry. I know that this attack was aimed at me. It's a good thing I'm here and not at home or I’d probably do something I'd regret later, like go after Bart with a baseball bat. However, right now, Mom needs some rest, and I need to think."
Mary Beth agreed to stay with Rachael as Ellen and I helped Mom into the next room. We laid her on the bed, removed her shoes and covered her with a blanket. She started to calm down almost immediately. It took less than fifteen minutes for her to fall asleep. 'I guess being in the room with Rachael is what was keeping her emotionally agitated. After all, what do I expect? In one weeks time, Mom had both her youngest children in hospitals. I stupidly tried to kill myself, and Rachael was almost beaten to death. Add to that, the stress of Dad being arrested. All things considered, I think Mom's doing great.'
Mary Beth had stopped crying by the time I returned to Rachael's room. I hugged my friend and asked, "Do you want to take the first watch? Or should I?"
"The first watch of what?" Ellen wanted to know.
"The first to watch over Rachael, until ..." I started to say, when Ellen interrupted me.
"Hold on there! Nobody is sitting up, watching Rachael sleep. The exception to that, of course, is Marie. You two are going back to your rooms, getting ready for bed, and then going to the year lounge. I've given strict orders; you are not to be left alone tonight."
"But, Ellen?"
"No buts’! You heard what Dr. Harris said. Rachael won’t wake up until sometime tomorrow. There's no need for either of you to stand watch. Besides, you're students, not soldiers."
"But she's my sister!" I protested.
"And I 'm your psychiatrist! As long as you're a student here, I'm in charge of your health, both physical and mental. Now, no more arguing, get your jackets on, and let’s get going.”
I’d only known Ellen for a little while, but I knew better than to protest, at least about this. She escorted us back to our rooms. Ellen stood in the interconnecting doorway, as we quickly changed into nightwear. I again chose a long gown because of the group setting. Soon we were on our way to the lounge, where six of our fellow students were waiting for us when we arrived.
We were the center of attention the moment we walked through the door. "Only six of you skipped choir practice, Jenny? I expected the entire year would take the opportunity, and would be waiting here," Ellen tried to be lighthearted.
"They were all going to stay, but I did not feel that was necessary. The others will be returning after choir practice. Of course, if something happens that I feel they should be a part of, I will call them back sooner."
“Very good Jenny," Ellen complimented. "Don't hesitate to call me if anyone has problems tonight,” Ellen instructed. As she turned to leave, she paused, “Matilda, I want to see you in my office after breakfast.”
“Yes Ellen,” I solemnly replied. Ellen left, and the eight of us were alone.
“Would someone please tell me what is going on?” Misa asked.
Mary Beth started, “Matilda’s sister is in the school’s hospital. She was apparently beaten up by Black Bart like I was, only much worse.”
Seeing that she was about to start crying again, as she remembered Rachael's condition, I put an arm around Mary Beth, pulling her close, "It'll be okay. We'll figure out what to do about Bart. It may take a while, but he will pay for his cruelty."
"Just what is a Black Bart? And what exactly did he do?" asked Morgan.
"I take it you missed part of this morning’s events, outside the lounge before breakfast?" Jenny asked.
I excused myself and slipped into the restroom while the others talked. The restroom attached to the lounge, was nothing special. There was a counter with three sinks just inside the door, and a wall dividing the room. On one side were some urinals and on the other were stalls.
Just as the restroom door was about to close, it suddenly swung open, startling me.
"Oh, hello Misa," I said as she entered.
"Hi, I'm sorry, Matilda," she said sadly.
"Sorry? Sorry about what?"
"I'm sorry that I have to do what I have to do."
"Misa, you're not making any sense."
Shaking her head, she continued, "Our instructions were that you and Mary Beth weren't to be alone."
"Well, I'm just going to the bathroom."
"Yes well, that’s one of the hard parts about being on suicide watch."
"SUICIDE WATCH! Who said anything about suicide?"
"That's what 'Not to be left alone' means. I am sorry."
"Do I at least get to close the door of the stall?"
Her reply was sad as she shook head.
"So you're telling me that my choices are to wet myself or expose myself!"
"Well, I personally wouldn't choose the first option. Then you'd have to go change and someone would have to go with you. As for your second option, I can turn my back while you sit down and then again when you clean up and stand."
"Well, I guess that's something. Thank you, Misa."
"You're welcome. It's the least I can do for someone like me."
Misa turned her back to me and I quickly dropped my bloomers, panties, and sat down. "You mean that you're ..."
"I was born with male equipment. Well, sort of. They didn't quiet develop the way they should have. I also have most of the plumbing that would make me a girl, but not all of it."
"You can turn around now. Thank you. So what did your parents do about, um, well, the way you were born?"
"Nothing, I still have what I was born with. They felt the decision should be mine. A few years ago, my Mother told me the story about the night I was born. She told me how the doctors tried to pressure them into making a decision, did they want a boy or a girl. My parents held fast to their decision, that as long as I wasn’t in any danger, when I was old enough, the decision should be mine."
We continued talking for a little while, then Misa turned around so I could finish my business and tuck things away after I stood up.
As I was washing my hands, I started giggling.
"All right, Matilda, what's so funny?"
"I was thinking about how well this long nightgown provided coverage so I wasn't exposed."
"So what's funny about that?"
"Did you see Mary Beth's nightie?"
Misa started giggling as well. Mary Beth's fondness for short frilly nighties could cause her some embarrassment.
Misa and I were giggling as we left the restroom. In our absence, the furniture had been pushed around and lots of sleeping bags had been unrolled. I also noticed that several of the others had brought their bathrobes with them. Mary Beth was sitting on one of the sleeping bags, doing her best to stall the conversation.
I listened for a few moments before I joined in, "Bart is the biggest and meanest bully at our old school," I added as I sat down next to her. There was no way I could go through this standing up.
I whispered in Mary Beth's ear, "Borrow Jenny's robe when you need to go to visit Mother Nature." I could see the surprise and question in her eyes. "Just trust me this time."
I turned back to the others as I continued with my story. "Before I started school, Mom and I spent our afternoons together. Rachael usually took a nap during the afternoon. Kindergarten was fun until I realized ..."
Between Mary Beth and me we told the whole story. As we were getting started, I noticed Jenny tapping on her PDA. The rest of the year arrived shortly thereafter. There were times when neither Mary Beth nor I could speak because we were both crying, as were many others.
I don't know what time it was when we finished. I was emotionally exhausted, from the retelling of my life's story and from knowing what Rachael, Mary Beth and others had suffered because of me.
I was crying as I lay down on top of a sleeping bag, in the middle of the lounge, but I didn't crawl into it. However, when Mother Nature rudely woke me I discovered that I was snuggly tucked in a sleeping bag, with Mary Beth snuggled up behind me, in another bag. I slipped out and hurried into the bathroom. The door had been propped open and the light on. ‘Thank you Mary Beth. I wondered if I should have dragged someone else out of bed to go with me. Oh well, my need for relief was greater than my need for company.’
I emerged to find Mary Beth smiling, and holding my bag open. I slipped back into my bag, rolled over and kissed her nose, expressing my thanks for looking out for me. I snuggled back against Mary Beth as she put an arm around me and smiled to myself as I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up sometime later to the annoying sound of someone’s PDA alarm going off. There were moans from all around the room.
“Niki!” Hope moaned. “Why didn’t you turn that thing off?”
“Well, as long as we are all awake, I guess we should start the day,” Jenny suggested as she rolled over.
“But Jenny, its only 5:30,” Howard complained.
“And it was after midnight before we got to sleep,” added Peggy with a big yawn.
“I know, I know, but we are awake. I am sure that you all have your PDA’s, so we might as well start with today’s schedule. As you know, today is Saturday, so there will be no French class this morning. We do have choir practice at 2:00 and 6:30. Also, tomorrow is the Halloween Ball, so if your costume is not finished, now is the time. If you need assistance, Mr. McGuiness and his staff are only available until 2:00 pm. Does anyone have anything else?”
“Hey guys, guess what?” exclaimed Walter. “It snowed! It’s the first snow of the season.”
Several of them headed for the windows to check out the night’s changes.
“While a blanket of snow is a new development, it is not what I was referring to. Does anyone have anything to add that is relevant to the group?”
“Are you telling me that Snow Men and Snow Ball Fights aren’t group activities?” inquired George, with a broad smile.
I smiled. “I guess that depends on your point of view. Being new, I don’t know if this is relevant, but I have an appointment with Ellen after breakfast. Mary Beth, would you sit with Rachael, until I’m able to get to the hospital?”
“You know I will. The three of us spent so much time together last summer, I almost think of Rachael as one of my sisters.” She gently squeezed my shoulder.
Misa inquired, “Matilda, may we help as well?”
“Thank you Misa. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I want someone that she knows with her when she wakes up. She’ll probably be confused enough without having a lot of strangers around. Once she’s awake I’d love to introduce you all.”
“Not a problem, I understand completely. I’m sure everyone else understands as well,” Misa replied.
“Matilda," Jenny spoke as she moved to sit next to me, "you have only been with us for a few days, I am sure that I speak for everyone when I say that we already think of you as family, and we love you as a sister. We will do anything we can to help you, Mary Beth or Rachael."
"Thank you Jenny, thank you all."
"All right everyone, let's get back to our rooms and get dressed. It will be a shock to everyone, if the 'Black Sheep' aren't late for breakfast." Aaron chuckled, trying to get everyone moving.
Even though as a group, we had an earlier start, Mary Beth and I were the last to enter the cafeteria. After breakfast, I hugged Mary Beth and told her I'd see her soon. Then while she went to the hospital to check on Rachael, I went to see Ellen. Upon arriving, I knocked on her door.
"One moment please," she called out.
"Good morning, Matilda," Ellen greeted me, as she opened the door and invited me to sit on one of the couches. "Where is Mary Beth this morning?"
"She's sitting with Rachael. After we're finished, I'll go over as well. Have you heard anything from Mom or Dr. Harris?"
"No, I haven't heard anything concerning your Mother or Rachael this morning. ‘They’ aren't what I wanted to discuss."
"So what do you want to talk about?"
"Matilda, you've been under a lot of stress lately, at home, at school. All of which led to your ... Shall we say your incorrect assessment of the options that were open to you, based upon one sided and incomplete information."
"My what?"
"Your suicide attempt."
"Oh," I said sadly. "That was pretty stupid of me, wasn't it?"
"Yes it was! You know, suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary situation. What I want to talk about this morning is you, and how you're feeling?"
"Well, to quote Scotty, 'I'm mad enough to chew Dilithium, but I'm behaving myself'," I replied.
"That mad! Hum, I'll be sure to keep the Dilithium locked away." Ellen giggled, trying to liven up my mood. "Do you know who or what you're mad at?"
"Well, I'm kind of mad at myself. If it wasn't for me none of this would have happened."
"Le’ts come back to that in a minute. Who else are you mad at?"
"Well there's Bart, for being such a bully. Then there are Bart’s parents. They should have taught him how to be a better person. Then there's the system, that would allow someone to have enough power that they could control everyone, the principal, and the teachers, not letting them do what they knew they should."
"That's quite a list. I 'm almost afraid to ask my next question. Is there anyone here that's on your 'mad at' list?"
"You mean here at the Manor? No! Everyone here has been terrific. Coming here is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"I'm certainly glad to hear that. Let go back to your 'mad at' list. Could you explain to me why you are on the list?"
"Well ... If I hadn’t decided to become a girl, Bart wouldn’t have beat up on Mary Beth or Rachael.”
“Tell me something Matilda. When you were in Kindergarten, was Bart there?”
“Yes.”
“Was he mean to you and the other children then?”
“Yes he was.”
“Had you decided to be a girl while you were in Kindergarten?”
“No, I only decided that this year. I was wearing girls clothes whenever I could, during First and Second grade though.”
“Did you ever wear girl’s clothes to school?”
“No, I was too scared.”
“So what you’re telling me is, Bart was mean long before you decided to transition from Matt to Matilda. Even before anyone knew that you thought of yourself as a girl, is that correct?”
“I guess so …”
“So if he was mean before you decided to transition, why should you expect him to be any different after you made your decision?”
“Umm, I don’t know.”
“Come on Matilda, you’re a smart girl. Where am I going with this?”
I knew where she was going, but I just wasn't sure I wanted to admit it to myself. I didn't say anything for a while. Finally, I took a deep breath, exhaled and replied, “I’m not responsible for Bart being mean, and I’m not responsible for his actions.”
“Just like you weren’t responsible for your Father’s actions! How someone chooses to act, or react, is their choice, not yours. So if you aren’t responsible for Bart beating up Mary Beth or Rachael, why are you mad at yourself?”
“Well, I guess, because I wasn’t able to protect them.” I started giggling.
“So why is it funny for you to want to protect your friend and sister?”
“Because Bart is about twice as big as I am,” I laughed. “If I tried to stand up against Bart by myself, I’d be the one in the hospital. I guess it’s kind of silly for me to be mad at myself, isn’t it?”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Ellen said with a big smile. “There’s only one reason for you to be mad at yourself, and that is if you don’t do your best. There will be hundreds of challenges that will come your way, obstacles to overcome. How you face each challenge will determine how fast, or how slowly, you overcome them. As long as you do your best, no one here will ask any more of you. The biggest challenge is knowing when you’re doing your best. Only you can answer that.”
“So you’re saying that no matter what I’m doing, do my best!”
“That pretty much is it.”
'Thank you Ellen. Whether you know it or not, you just gave me permission to access the computer system, not just the system here, but any system that I need to go into find the information needed to take care of Bart.’ I don’t think my smile gave away my thoughts.
“Tell me, have you and Mary Beth decided on Halloween costumes yet?”
“Oh, no we haven’t! We haven’t discussed them since we left the hospital.”
“Very well, I’ll let you go for now. Go check on Rachael and your Mother. If your Mother hasn’t had breakfast yet, be sure and send her over to get something. When she gets back, or if she’s had breakfast, I want you and Mary Beth to go over to wardrobe and see what you can come up with. I’ll call Mr. McGuiness and tell him to expect you. Remember, the overall costume isn’t what’s important. It’s the effort and the amount of creativity involved that’s important.”
“But I want to be with Rachael when she wakes up. She’ll be scared and confused if she wakes up and doesn’t recognize anyone.”
“That’s why you’ll stay there until your Mother returns. After you’ve arranged for your costumes, you may return to Rachael’s side.”
“Yes Ellen,” I said with a little frown.
“Hey, now, don’t frown like that! Remember, Rachael is going to be in the hospital for quite a while. If security had their way, you wouldn’t be permitted to see her.”
“WHAT! Why not?”
“Remember, Rachael is under age for this school. She'll know that she's in a hospital, but not which one. She also knows that you and Mary Beth have gone to Immigration Manor. When she sees the two of you visiting her, she'll know where she is. Security isn’t happy about that information leaking out. I’m not sure how this will turn out yet, but for now …”
“I think I understand. I guess we’ll have to take it one day at a time.”
“That’s about the best we can do, right now. All right, off you go.”
I left Ellen and went to the hospital. There was only four inches of snow, so I went straight across. The snow did slow me down, but just a little. I didn’t recognize the nurse who was on duty, but I said hello, and explained to her who I was. She introduced herself as Tina. She was very nice and told me how peacefully Rachael had slept through the night.
I entered Rachael’s room to find Mom and Mary Beth talking quietly, Rachael was still asleep.
I quietly walked up behind Mom and put my arms around her shoulders, hugging her. She responded by tilting her head until it rested next to mine. We stayed that way for several minutes, mother and daughter in a simple loving embrace.
It seemed like an hour had passed when I broke the spell, saying, "How are you doing, Mom?"
Rotating her head, she opened her eyes and looked at me. She said with a tiny smile, "I can honestly say I've had better weeks."
I giggled, just a little as I replied, "I know what you mean, Mom, I know what you mean."
Mom sighed as I released her to sit in an empty chair. "Mom, why was Rachael brought here, instead of Primary Children's?"
"After your dad's boss found out about him being arrested, and why, they terminated his employment. The problem is, no employment, no company medical insurance. Because you're a student, all of your needs will be taken care of. Now that I'm working here, they will take care of my medical needs. They just haven't had to take care of dependents before, so they're still trying to decide how to handle Charles’, Karen's, and Rachael's medical needs. Also, nobody could have foreseen something like this."
"I understand." I was, after all, curious. I hadn't expected to see Rachael for about eight years, and certainly not in this condition. "Mom, have you had breakfast yet?"
"No I haven't. I woke up and came straight here."
"Why don't you go get yourself something? Mary Beth and I will stay here until you get back."
Are you sure? Don't you two have something that you need to do?"
"Yes we do, but it will wait. Go get something to eat and relax for a few minutes. Come back when you're ready."
"Sweetheart, are you sure?"
"Absolutely! We've had breakfast; I've had a nice talk with Ellen and now I’m feeling better about everything. Her instructions were to send you to get something to eat. So go on. If we need anything, Tina is just down the hall."
"Oh all right, I shouldn't be too long. You two behave yourselves!" Mom got up and started for the door.
I looked at Mary Beth to discover that she was looking at me. We smiled at each other and replied in unison, "Yeess Mother."
Mom couldn’t help it, she chuckled, shaking her head as she left.
“So why did you send your Mother off?” Mary Beth asked.
“It really was Ellen’s instructions. I guess she knew that Mom wouldn’t think of herself first, and would have to be forced to take care of herself. Anyway, Mom would have just sat here being sad, waiting for Rachael to wake up. You and I, on the other hand …” I stood up and went to Rachael’s bed, “… can take a more direct approach.”
I leaned over Rachael’s bed, shifting it a little, reaching out my hand, preparing to tickle her nose. Suddenly her eyes popped open. I screamed, as I jumped back. “Don’t even think about it, Sis,” Rachael said gruffly. Then she moaned and complained, “Gee whiz, everything hurts, especially if I try to move.”
“Rachael!” I squealed, “You’re awake!” I rushed back to her bed to give her a hug.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried out. “I said it hurts to move! In fact, it hurts all the time.”
“But I’m so glad that you’re awake.”
“I’ll go get Tina,” Mary Beth was smiling as she left.
“Well, I’m not glad, it didn’t hurt when I was asleep,” a very grumpy Rachael complained. She stopped glaring at me and looked down at herself. “Well, now I know why I can’t move. Where am I, Sis?”
“You’re in a hospital.”
“No kidding Sis. I’m glad you’re here to tell me the obvious. I know it’s a hospital, but which hospital?”
“This is the hospital at Immigration Manor,” I sighed. I wasn’t really sure if I should have told her that, considering what Ellen had told me earlier.
“I didn’t know they had a hospital at the Manor.”
“Well, now you do,” I answered as Tina and Mary Beth came into the room.
“Good morning, Rachael,” Tina was all smiles. “My name is Tina, I’m your nurse. Mary Beth says that you hurt.”
“That’s an understatement. I don’t know how many pieces I’m in, but everyone of them hurts.”
“I’ve already called Dr. Harris. He’ll be here shortly,” Tina told her as she put a needle into a port in the IV tubing. “This should make you more comfortable. It won’t put you to sleep, but should help with the pain.”
“Thank you, I’m not usually this crabby,” Rachael apologized.
“That’s quite all right, Dear, I understand completely. Is there anything that I can do for you before Dr. Harris arrives?”
“Well, I, umm, … I do need to, um …”
I pushed Mary Beth toward the door. “Come on Mary Beth, that’s our cue to wait in the hall.”
“Well, Rachael, because of your injuries, you obviously can’t just get up and go to the bathroom. You have two choices, you can call a nurse each time you need to relieve yourself, so we can put a bed pan under you, or …” That was all we heard as the door closed.
“But Matilda, don’t you want to stay and talk with Rachael?”
“Trust me Mary Beth, we will talk with Rachael, but right now she doesn’t need us around. Remember, I’ve been on the receiving end of that conversation. Only, for her, it’s going to be worse. I could move around, Rachael can’t. It’s going to be hard enough on her, without us being in there.”
“You’re right Matilda, I wasn’t thinking of Rachael’s feelings. I guess I’ve gotten used to not thinking about others, it’s surprising how fast that can happen when you’re isolated by your own family. Mom didn't talk to me, all she did was yell and if anyone else talked to me, she yelled at them.” Mary Beth hung her head, as she described how she was treated. “I’m sorry! I’ll try harder to be more considerate.”
“That’s okay,” I said with a smile after hugging her. I lifted her chin so I could see her eyes. “You’re watching out for me and my little problem; I guess it’s only fair that I watch out for you, and help you with yours. Deal?”
“Deal!” she agreed. We sealed our accord with another hug.
Moments later, the door opened and Tina came out, “You may go back in now, girls.”
“Thank you, Tina,” said Mary Beth.
As we entered, I noticed that Rachael’s eyes were closed. I went to her bedside and gently touched her fingertips and asked, “Feeling better?”
Rachael opened her eyes and almost smiled, “Yes, I’m feeling a little better. The stuff Tina put in the IV did a good job of killing most of the pain. I still hurt, but not like before. I’m sorry I was so gruff with you.”
“That’s okay, Sis,” I smiled to show her that I wasn’t upset. “I knew it wasn’t the real you talking. So Rachael, can you tell us what happened?”
“I guess it started today at lunch. ... Wait a second, what day is it?”
“It’s Saturday morning, October thirtieth,” Mary Beth, answered.
“Oh, I guess it was yesterday at lunch. I was with some of my friends, playing hopscotch, when Bart and his gang came along. He picked me up and demanded to know where my sissy brother was. I smiled in his face and told him that Charles will kick his butt, if he called him a sissy to his face. Bart threw me down and cursed at me. You know I don’t use that kind of language, so I can’t tell you what he said.”
“That okay, I know the kind of language that Bart uses.”
“Anyway, he said I was a stupid little girl, and that he wanted to know where 'Little Mattie' was, and why he hadn’t been in school. I told him that you got tired of having a big stupid bully following you around like a lost puppy dog, and that you went to a new school, full of real smart kids. Then I told him that he’d better be careful, because someday Matt might come back and get even for all the mean things he’s done. He laughed at me and said that I was the one that was stupid, and that nobody could do anything to him. That’s when three teachers came by and he left. I didn’t see him the rest of the day. That is, until I was about half way home."
"Rachael, you should know better than to get Bart mad, especially where money is concerned," I scolded.
“You're right, and I did know better. He was just acting so stupid and I wasn't thinking about what I was doing. Anyway, as I was passing the Andersen’s, Bart jumped out from behind the bushes, on the corner. He was real mad and he was swinging a big piece of wood, as if it was a baseball bat. It looked like a tree branch. He said that he'd lost $600 this week and demanded to know where you were. I told him that you were someplace where he couldn’t touch you and kept walking. He screamed, I felt something sting my leg, and I fell down.
“When I rolled over to look at him, I saw that my right foot was pointing the wrong direction. Then I saw the branch flying and it smashed into my left leg. That’s when both legs really started hurting, and I screamed. He was yelling at me and I started screaming at him. I think I called him some names that I don't normally use. I'm pretty sure I called him a big, stupid, overgrown elf. I saw the branch was flying again; I tried to block it with my arm. That was a mistake; I think it went right through my arm, it hurt so bad. I don’t remember anything after that, until I woke up here."
For a while, it was quiet, except for Rachael's sniffles. Then she continued, asking, "Matilda, what am I going to do?”
“Well little sister, it looks to me like you’re going to spend about six months in bed.”
“Of course I’m going to spend a lot of time in bed, but what am I going to do? You know me. I can’t just lie around all the time. I have to be moving, doing puzzles, reading books, something. The only things I can move are my fingers. I can’t feed myself. I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone picking me up to put bed pan under me and wiping me after …,” Rachael was crying now.
I did the best I could at hugging her, without actually moving her. I talked with her gently, reassuring her that everything would be all right. Mary Beth moved to the other side of Rachael’s bed and gently stroked her fingers. I didn’t know what to tell her. What could I say to help ease her pain? All of the pain and sorrow of my own experiences hadn’t prepared me for the challenge that faced me now, how to ease my sister’s pain.
I don’t know how long the three of us stayed like that. It wasn’t until Mom and Dr. Harris came in, that we moved. “Rachael, it’s so good to see that you’re awake,” Mom said as she entered the room.
I moved away, so Mom could take my place. “Be gentle, Mom, she hurts everywhere,” I said softly.
“Well, that’s to be expected,” Dr. Harris added, “considering how many pieces she was in. It’s a good thing that I’m better than the king’s horses and the king’s men, otherwise Miss Dumpty would still be in pieces.”
“So just how many pieces was I in?” Rachael asked.
“Well, your skin was still in one piece, but your bones were in many pieces,” Dr. Harris said jokingly. Then he turned serious, as he continued. “You are a very lucky young lady, Rachael. Lucky to be alive, that is.”
“I just wish I felt lucky,” Rachel groaned. “Right now I feel more like twenty miles of bad road.”
“Believe me, you are lucky,” he added. “I have a question for you though. Do you like to go swimming?”
“Swimming? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, I had to make a few incisions as part of the process of putting you back together. I’m afraid that you’ll have a few scars from the process.”
“Scars, like what, where?”
“Well let’s see, umm, there’s one about three inches above your left wrist, and one two inches below your right elbow. There are also several on each leg where I had to go in and insert some steel pins. I’m afraid that you looked a little like Dr. Frankenstein’s monster, that is, before the casts were put on. On the other hand, when they come off in three to six months, all that should be left of those incisions should be some very small scars.”
“So now you’re telling me that I look like a monster?” Rachael cried out.
“Is that how it came out?” Dr. Harris asked. “I’m sorry; I’m still working on my bedside manner, and learning how much information to give to whom. You will have some small scars; most of them are about an inch long, in various locations on your arms and legs. The good news is, that in about three weeks we, will take some x-rays. If your arms are healing, like I think they should, we will be able to take off part of the cast and you will be able to move your shoulders.”
“I’m sorry Dr. Harris. I know that you’re just trying to help me. I guess I’m still shook up by all of this. After all, I’m only eight. I didn’t think I’d be spending six months in traction when I told Bart that he was a fat stupid bully.”
“Now that we know all the gruesome details, I think Mary Beth and I should leave, giving you and Mom some time alone. We have an appointment to get some Halloween costumes,” I smiled, as I kissed my finger and touched Rachael’s nose. “I’m sure that Mom wants to chew you out for being silly, or something like that. We’ll come back and see you later.”
“Halloween Costumes! I’d completely forgotten about the Halloween Ball,” shrieked Mary Beth.
“Halloween Ball! What Halloween Ball?” Rachael demanded.
“It’s a yearly event, on Halloween night,” I explained. “Everyone dresses up, even the staff. I know one girl that is going as Lady Godiva. We haven’t decided on costumes yet and need to go see the theater director.”
“I thought we decided that we’d go as mother and baby, with you as the baby,” giggled Mary Beth.
“I thought I was going as Cinderella and you were going to be the ugly, wicked step mother,” I quickly responded.
“What did I say about ugly?” pouted Mary Beth.
“I’ve got the perfect costumes for both of us,” I grinned. “We can dress up as archeologists, and we can take Rachael as our mummy.”
“Nobody is taking Rachael anywhere,” Dr. Harris said sharply.
“Oh, you two are going to make Ellen wish she’d never admitted you,” Mom giggled, as she shook her head. “Get out of here you two! Go on, now, scoot.”
We left Rachael’s room giggling, said so long to Tina, and went down the stairs. We stopped in the hospital lobby, to determine where we needed to go, and the best way of getting there. I pulled out my PDA and entered 'Wardrobe' into the location finder.
When the location was displayed, I showed it to Mary Beth, who told me "That's not surprising, we should have guessed that."
"You're right, Mary Beth, no surprise. We better get going; Ellen was going to call Mr. McGuiness, informing him that we were new students and would be needing some help with costumes."
"Look Matilda, it's snowing again."
"Cool! I wonder how much snow we'll get? I remember Lizzy said something about eight to ten feet. That’s so much more than we used to get back home."
"Really? That’s going to be neat to play in."
"Lizzy said that when it's deep enough, some students dig tunnels, making a maze."
"Wow, this winter is going to be a lot more fun than last year."
"Come on Mary Beth, let's get going." I giggled at her excitement.
We put on our coats and went out to face the elements. There was about six inches of snow covering the grass. I was surprised to find none on the sidewalks, absolutely none. We'd only gone a little way when my curiosity got the better of me. I stopped, squatted down, and put one hand on the sidewalk.
"Now I know how they keep the sidewalks clear," I told her as I stood up.
"What do you mean?"
"Mary Beth, there's six inches of snow, do you see anyone with a snow shovel, a snow blower, or even any piles of show that have been removed from the sidewalks?"
"No," she replied after scanning the grounds.
"And you won't see anyone shoveling snow, ever. Want to know why?"
"Okay genius, why."
"Because the sidewalks are heated."
"What?"
“Yup, heated sidewalks, they must be about eighty degrees. If they keep them heated all winter, you’ll never see any snow on them. Look, see the water is running into the crack between the sections of the sidewalk. That must be some kind of drain system, so the water doesn’t run off onto the grass, freezing into ice ponds.” ‘I wonder where they get the power for this place. I haven’t seen any sign of power lines, or phone lines. It’s got to cost a lot to keep the sidewalks this warm.’
It took a little while to get to the administration building, where the theater is, as Mary Beth was still moving in slow motion. We kept up a continuous verbal battle, teasing each other about costumes that we knew the other wouldn’t like. By the time we arrived, Mary Beth was exhausted, although we’d decided on several good possibilities. The only question that remained was, what costume would be available that would fit me.
“Top of the morning lassies,” a distinguished looking gentleman, with a deep Scottish accent, greeted us as we entered. “I’ll be assuming that one of yeh is Mary Beth and the other be Matilda. May I inquire as to which of yeh, is which?”
“I’m Matilda,” I replied, as I helped Mary Beth to a chair so she could rest.
“Good day to yeh, Miss Matilda, and to yeh, Miss Mary Beth. I’m Tony McGuiness. Ellen informed me that yeh be needing some help with costumes.”
“Yes we do,” I started.
“We’ve been discussing what costumes we’d like to go to the ball in,” Mary Beth interrupted. “But honestly, we don’t know what will fit my friend Matilda.”
“Hmm, she is just a wee lass, isn’t she. Matilda, would yeh please step up on this platform? I’ll be requiring your measurements before we can select a costume for yeh.”
“I guess so,” I replied, not sure if this was a good thing or not. 'Does "wee lass" mean the same as "little one"?' I wondered. As I stepped up onto the platform, my curiosity got the better of me, “Mr. McGuiness, don’t you already have access to our measurements?”
“What do you mean?” asked Mary Beth.
“Haven’t you noticed how perfectly your wardrobe fits? I don’t know about you, but my clothes have never fit me this well.”
“But, I’ve never been measured,” stated Mary Beth. “Well, not recently anyway.”
“Aye lassies, I do have your measurements,” answered Mr. McGuiness, “but I’ve no idea when they were taken. I’m re-measuring you both as you bairns grow so quickly.”
Mr. McGuiness set to work, measuring me from head to toe, and everything in between. Then he checked some things on his computer and shook his head. After he finished with me, he had Mary Beth take my place and he started the process of measuring her.
“Well now, Miss Beth,” Mr. McGuiness started.
“Excuse me, but 'Beth' is my middle name. My full name is Mary Beth Phelps, but I prefer just Mary Beth.”
“My sincerest apologies Mary Beth,” Mr. McGuiness said, with a deep bow. “As for a costume that would fit yeh, on such short notice, there be many to choose from. Do yeh fancy something plain, something with frills, or would yeh fancy something suited for the male gender?”
“Oh, I’m definitely NOT looking for something suited for the male gender. But let’s see what you have for Matilda first, and then I’ll decide what I want. I want something that will compliment what she’s wearing, if possible.”
“I’m afraid that on such short notice, the choices for Miss Matilda are somewhat limited. The first would portray her as a young lass, of about five. Tis a lovely pink party dress, with lace and ribbons.” ‘I smiled to my self, remembering when Mom had caught me wearing Rachael’s pink party dress. My, but, how my world has changed since then.’ “The second would give the appearance of a pixie, or fairy, with pointed ears." 'Maybe I should just take the ears and go as a Vulcan child. "The third would be that of a young lad, of about eight years of age, actually, it is from the nursery rhyme ‘Little Boy Blue’. The forth is that of a munchkin, from the ‘Wizard of Oz’.”
Mary Beth started laughing as she heard the last choice of costumes that would fit me. I on the other hand, sat quietly with my arms folded, shaking my head.
“Excuse me Miss, did I say something funny?” Mr. McGuiness asked.
“That’s her nickname,” laughed Mary Beth.
“Who’s nickname?”
“Matilda’s,” Mary Beth was now suffering from the pain of laughing so hard with her sore ribs, but couldn’t stop herself. She held her side as she continued. “Matilda’s nickname is Munchkin.”
“Well, where I can see that this be amusing, I don’t believe it’s that funny.”
“Don’t worry about it Mr. McGuiness, Mary Beth has a rather strange sense of humor,” I said soberly. Sighing, I thought about my choices and added, “May I have a look at the Munchkin costume, please?”
“Are yeh sure, Miss Matilda?”
“No, I’m not sure, but at least I’ll take a look at it. If it isn’t too goofy looking, I’ll try it on. It could be a kind of a fun way to announce to everyone, that 'The Munchkin' has come to the Manor.”
Well, the Munchkin costume wasn’t that bad. It was a girls costume, short skirt, some ribbons, lots of colors, a silly hat and those goofy, curly toed shoes. The only thing that bothered me, was the very overly padded panties, that went with it, to show off the ruffled bottom of the tights. At least they were panties that pulled up, not a diaper, that needed to be pinned on, so going to the bathroom when needed wouldn’t be a problem. As for Mary Beth’s costume, I naturally suggested the Wicked Witch. Mary Beth decided on, of course, something that resembled Dorothy.
We were about half way through Mary Beth’s costume fitting, when my PDA beeped. Checking the display, I found that I'd receive a text message, from Aaron.
Matilda,
It’s lunchtime.
When are you and Mary Beth
going to be finished in wardrobe?
Aaron.
'I wonder how he knew where we were?' I sent him a note telling him of our status; also, I indicated how much longer we were expected to be. I assured him that we would be at choir practice on time. Aaron sent a note back to me, telling me that he would arrange for some lunch to be waiting for us in our rooms.
Once we were finished getting both costumes, along with some slight alterations, they were bagged, so we could take them back to our rooms. I still wasn’t sure that the Munchkin costume was a good idea, but it seemed to be the best choice, of what was available.
We rushed back to our rooms; well, we ‘rushed’ as fast as Mary Beth could go. After hanging up our costumes, we rested for a few minutes, while eating lunch. ‘We’d better learn to love submarine sandwiches, or learn how to get to meals on time.’
As we were on our way back to the theater for choir practice, I turned to Mary Beth and giggled, "You know Mary Beth, sometimes we’re stupid."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, as long as someone was delivering our lunch, we should have had it delivered to one of the dressing rooms, next to the wardrobe department. It would have saved you from having to walk to our rooms and then back to the theater again."
"You're right! Oh well, next time," she puffed, definitely tired from all the walking, while trying not to move her tender ribcage.
"I guess we could ask if there is a wheel chair you could use for going from building to building."
"I'm not a complete invalid," she scowled.
"Of course not! It would just make getting from place to place a little easier and faster. Perhaps we could use a golf cart instead."
"They have golf carts?"
"Oops, I guess I haven't told you quite everything." I quickly told her a few more details about my graduation from girl 101 and 102, along with the events of that day.
"You mean to tell me that Beca? The same Beca that helped out at my birthday party, dresses up as a boy? Not just a boy, but a French boy?"
"Actually, yes."
"Hold on one minute," she suddenly stopped. "Last Thursday in the hospital, when you dressed up to distract the hospital staff, there was a boy yelling in French. That … that was ..."
"That was Joseph. The first time I saw him, I acted so stupidly, I asked Lizzy if I could take him home with me," I giggled, remembering our first meeting.
Suddenly Mary Beth punched my arm, almost knocking me over. “What on earth was that for?”
“Well, for looking at a boy that way, and for even thinking about taking him home with you, and did you even think about me?”
“Actually, I thought about you every day that I was here. Everything I was doing was for you, for your birthday. I wanted to be the best girl I could be, so you would be proud of me.”
She softened and hugged me, “I’m sorry for hitting you, and for mistrusting you.”
As we were talking outside the theater, quite a few other students walked past us on their way to choir practice. Many of them were giggling at our conversation.
"So tell me more about Beca. You're telling me that she changes back and forth, when ever she wants?"
About that time Tony, Em, Deanna and Peggy stopped to see what we were talking about and join in our conversation.
"That's what I'm saying; Beca and Joseph are the same person. When she's dressed as Beca, she’s all girl, and when he's dressed as Joseph, he's all boy."
"Now I'm confused," Mary Beth confessed as she shook her head.
"You're confused now, just wait until Mr. Peterson announces another 'Freaky Friday'," Peggy giggled, as she jumped into the conversation.
"I'll say," Em joined in. "It took me forever to remember everyone’s opposite gender name."
"What's Freaky Friday?” Mary Beth asked.
Tony asked, "Oh, you haven't heard about that yet?"
“Well, I know about the Disney movie ‘Freaky Friday’, that’s where a mother and her daughter traded bodies. The girl had to pretend to be her mother, which was kind of gross. We haven’t been told about anything here,” Mary Beth confessed.
“I guess you’re in for a little culture shock,” smiled Deanna. “Freaky Friday is something they do about every other month, or so. It’s where everyone changes gender. It goes like this; if you normally dress as a girl, you're to dress and act like a boy. Of course, the boys have to dress and act like girls. It’s pretty funny sometimes, seeing the silly things we do.”
“That crazy! I don’t want to dress like a boy,” complained Mary Beth. “Why would anyone want to dress like …” Mary Beth stopped talking and looked at the sad expression on my face. As she tried to put an arm around me, I moved away so she couldn’t. “Matilda, ... I’m sorry. You told me I haven’t been thinking about the feelings of others. I did it again, didn’t I?”
“Boy I’ll say,” Tony said, jumping right back at her. “That was one of the most insensitive things I’ve heard anyone say around here. You just insulted about sixty percent of the students here.”
“I’m sorry everyone,” Mary Beth said sadly as she hung her head. She turned and started slowly walking back to the dorm.
“Mary Beth,” I asked softly, “where do you think you’re going?
She stopped and looked at me. I’ve never seen my friend so totally crushed emotionally. She could barely speak, “Back to my room,” she choked out.
I rushed over to her and put my arms around her waist, “Not without me you’re not.” I turned to the others and continued, “Last night you heard my story, but you haven’t heard about my friend Mary Beth. She’s loved me and protected me since we were in Kindergarten together. When she found out I was … transgender, she stood by me and loved me even more. She stood by me when nobody else would. She’s the kindest person that I know, next to my mother. If she doesn’t seem like it, it’s because her family abused her for the last eight weeks. She's been emotionally abused; through isolation by those who should have loved her the most. She was treated that way, because she was my friend, and refused to forsake our friendship. All she needs is some love, understanding, patience, and some forgiveness, now and then. Before you know it, she will be the kind, loving person that she once was.”
Mary Beth was crying openly as I finished. Several of the others had tears in their eyes as well. Em was the first to speak, “Mary Beth, I think most of us know how it feels to be emotionally abused. We know how that can make you say things that you don’t mean.”
“It was insensitive,” Tony said. “But you realized it, even before you finished what you were saying. That says you’re getting better. We’ll all help you, if you’ll let us.”
“I’m sorry everyone,” Mary Beth managed to say, as she was still crying. “I guess more of Mom’s yelling at me sank in than I thought. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
I led Mary Beth away. “Where are we going?” Mary Beth asked with a sniffle.
“We’re going to have a talk with Ellen,” I said gently. Turning back to the others, I called out, “You guys go on to choir practice. We’ll see you all in the lounge before dinner.”
I knocked on Ellen's office door, hoping she was in and could see us. "Come in," she replied.
I opened the door. Mary Beth was having second thoughts about seeing Ellen; I almost had to push her through the door.
"Matilda, what's happened?" Ellen asked, as she saw Mary Beth’s condition. She quickly came around her desk and helped me settle Mary Beth on one of the couches.
I quickly told Ellen, that we'd just learned about 'Freaky Friday' and the conversation that followed. We spent the next hour and a half with Ellen. Mary Beth was well on her way to becoming her old, loving and caring, self again. It will take some more time; after all, you don't just put eight weeks of abuse into a paper bag and simply throw it away.
We went back to the years lounge to wait for the rest of the year. It was Ellen's suggestion to talk over Mary Beth's problem, with the others. She told us that most of our fellow students had been abused in some form or another, and that sharing each others experiences, helps everyone grow and become stronger. Ellen was right, again. It’s so good to have real friends that love and care about you.
The conversation at dinner was a little quieter than normal, with several students talking among themselves in French. I guess they needed the practice, I know I did. I listened, trying to make out what they were saying, even asking questions. I’m starting to look forward to starting French lessons on Monday. Instead of going to the year lounge, between dinner and the evening choir practice, we went to see how Rachael was doing.
"Hi, Rachael, feeling any better?" I asked cheerfully, as we entered her room.
"Better than what?" she grumbled.
"Better than you felt this morning?" asked Mary Beth.
"Better than when Bart attacked you?" I asked.
"I guess if you put it that way, I do feel better," she admitted. "So what brings you two to this dark and dismal corner of the world?"
"We've come to see my sister, to bring a little light into her dark world and to see if I can make her laugh a little," I explained as I went to the window and opened the curtains, while saying, “That takes care of the dark."
“Maybe I like it dark and gloomy.”
“Well now little sister of mine, we’ve had enough gloom for one day, right Mary Beth?”
“I’ve certainly created enough gloom, but I don’t think it’s going to hang around for too long.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” demanded Rachael.
“I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying,” Mary Beth explained, “And before I realized it, I insulted almost the entire school. I’m sure the story circulated like wild fire during choir practice. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings, it just that, … well, you know how my mom yelled at me all the time, because I refused to hate Matilda. I guess more of her negative side rubbed off on me than I thought.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I put my arms around Mary Beth, “In a few months you’ll be your old self again, all those negative feelings will be gone, and everyone will know what a wonderful person you really are.”
“Matilda, do you really think so?”
“Of course I do. Weren’t you listening to Ellen? If you feed someone negative information long enough you get negative information out. We’re just going to turn that around and feed you nothing but positive information from now on. Why, I’ll bet that before we leave for Toronto you’ll feel better and everyone will love you.”
“Oh Matilda, you’re such an optimist.”
“Who’s going to Toronto?” asked Rachael.
“The school’s going on a field trip to Toronto,” answered Mary Beth.
“You remember Beca and Lizzy telling us about the school’s field trips, don’t you?”
“Yes. When do you leave and how long will you be gone?” Rachael asked sadly.
"We'll be gone for about ten days," I answered.
"And we leave in about five or six weeks," added Mary Beth.
"Starting Monday, Mary Beth and I are getting a crash course in French."
"We would have started our French class yesterday morning, but Matilda couldn't keep her eyes open," Mary Beth teased.
I was going to answer back when I realized how sad and depressed Rachael was becoming, and she was becoming more depressed the longer we talked. "Rachael, what's wrong?"
"You're going to run off and leave me, you’ll be having fun, while I 'm stuck here doing an impersonation of a mummy," she screamed.
"Rachael," I said reassuringly, as I held her fingers, "I wouldn't go off and leave you alone with nothing to do, with no way to keep your mind challenged. You know that I love you, you silly little urchin. I'm already working on some ideas, things you can do while you're here. We've got some terrific friends here, they would like to meet you, I'm sure they will help us."
"I'm sorry Matilda; I'm just feeling sorry for myself and was thinking that you would forget about me. I should have known better. I know how much you love me."
"That's all right, Rachael, I understand completely," I told her gently. "We'll come and see you every day. The time may vary, but at some time. Is there anything we can do for you? Besides smuggle you out of here!"
"Um, I guess not. The nurses don't have a schedule worked out yet, you know the every day things, when I get fed, when I can watch TV, when I get washed and when I can, well ... you know."
"Yes Sis, I know. Um, I was wondering, I know it's embarrassing to have an adult doing some of those things for you. Would you feel better if I were to help take care of you?"
"Oh I don't know, let me think about that, okay?"
"Sure thing, you know I'll do anything for you."
Mary Beth piped up, "Don't forget me! I'll help, too."
"I'm not forgetting you, Mary Beth," Rachael confessed, turning to smile at her. "With the three of us here, it's almost like last summer. The Three Musketeers ride again. Maybe we could get two more beds in here and the Three Musketeers could have a six month slumber party."
I didn't have the heart to tell Rachael that Mary Beth and I had been sleeping together since that first night at Primary Children's.' I didn't want her to feel more alone than she does.
"I don't know if people around here would consider us the Three Musketeers, perhaps the Three Stooges," teased Mary Beth.
"Mary Beth, the Stooges were comedians; they were paid to tease each other while making other people laugh," Rachael countered.
"Well, other than getting paid, that pretty much described how we were last summer. We teased each other, had lots of fun and made people laugh," Mary Beth reminded her.
Laughing, Rachael replied," I guess you're right about that. I suppose I was trying to make us seem a little bit more adventurous, instead of just goofy."
"That's us, The Three Goofy Sisters." We all laughed at that.
"I'm not sure the Black Sheep are ready for The Three Goofy Sisters," I laughed.
"What's the Black Sheep?" Rachael asked, still giggling.
"That's what everyone calls year A," answered Mary Beth.
"What's year A?" came the next question.
Mary Beth and I then proceeded to give Rachael an abbreviated rundown of our fellow students. As we finished passing on our limited information, I checked the time on my PDA.
"Rachael, I'm afraid that we have to be going. Before we leave, I was wondering, how much can you move your fingers?"
"What time is it?" Mary Beth asked, then checked her PDA.
"What! You've only been here a little while. Why do you have to leave?" Rachael demanded, she was starting to cry again.
"Now, now, don't start that again," I said sweetly, as I slipped an arm around her head, gently dabbing at her tears with a tissue. "We need to go to choir practice. It'll take us twenty minutes to walk back to the theater."
"Twenty minutes? I don't remember the school being that big," complained Rachael, begging us to stay longer.
"It's not. It's just that Mary Beth is that slow. She was also one of Bart's victims, remember? She needs time to rest before our three hour practice."
"Oh! Why do you want to know how much I can move my fingers?"
"Just wondering how many buttons on a remote control you'd be able to reach?"
"Remote control?" ask Mary Beth.
"Sure! If we can somehow mount something to the bottom of the cast, below her wrist, then she wouldn't have to call the nurse when she wants the TV changed. I'm also thinking of some other things, to help her stay somewhat active," I confessed.
They both looked at me as if I was crazy, but my mind was racing with ideas. <>i 'If there were controls on both hands, with a computer linked to the TV, she'd have access to e-books, maybe even a closed circuit, to some place with small robots that she could control, to move puzzle pieces around. I wonder how much I can do to help her? I know that I can’t do it by myself. I guess I need to talk with the others about these ideas.'
Mary Beth and I headed to choir practice, arriving about five minutes early. We both needed some time to ourselves. I helped Mary Beth to a chair so she could rest after that hike. Then I quickly headed for the nearest restroom, for some relief that I desperately needed.
Choir practice went well. I was starting to understand the words of the carols in French; at least I thought I was. After practice, Beca and Lizzy caught me, as I was coming out of the restroom, demanding to know why we'd missed the last two practices.
First, I explained about the conversation that had taken place outside the theater and that we'd gone to talk with Ellen. Then I had to tell them about Rachael being in the hospital.
Beca saw the rage in my eyes and pulled me aside, "What are you planning, Munchkin?"
"Planning?"
"Yes, planning! I can see it in your eyes. You're planning something. What is it?"
"I'm planning some things for Rachael, so she isn't bored to death. She can only move her fingers a few inches, so this is going to be a challenge."
Beca bent down, looking deep into my eyes, and shook her head, "I think there's more to it than that."
"I don't know what you mean, Beca." 'I couldn't tell her what I promised myself last night, when I first saw Rachael, because I don't have any plans ... Yet.'
"I think you know what I mean. Just don't do anything without thinking about the consequences. You and Mary Beth had better get to your rooms; it's almost 10:00."
"Okay, goodnight, Beca."
"Goodnight Munchkin, remember what I said."
"I'll remember," I promised, as I went to where Mary Beth and Lizzy were talking. "Goodnight, Lizzy. Come on, Mary Beth. We need to get going. We've got to hurry, or we're going to be out after curfew."
It had been snowing during choir practice, and now there was about eight inches of snow. That eliminated any possibility of taking the direct approach. There was no way we were going to walk across the grass.
"So, what did Beca want to talk about?" asked Mary Beth, as we exited the building.
"She wanted to know what I'm planning."
"That makes two of us. I know you too well, Matilda. Helping Rachael isn't the only thing on your mind. What are you planning to do about Bart?"
"Honestly?"
"Let me put it simply, my dear," Mary Beth put an arm around my shoulder. "If I find out you aren't honest with me, I'll turn you over my knee. Understand?"
“You wouldn’t!”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“All right! Right now I don’t have any plans, other than somehow Bart and his parents need to be taught that he can’t treat people that way. Just how to do that, I don’t know yet. I haven’t had any time to do any research.”
“Research, how and what are you planning to research?”
“Well, you know that Bart’s dad protects him. Also, that Bart picks on kids that are smaller than he is, mostly young girls. There has to be a way to get everything we know to the police, or someone who can do something. I need to figure out how to do it, without you or I being involved.”
“Nothing like a little challenge, right Matilda?”
“Yeah, get all that done from here without anyone knowing about it, just a little challenge,” I giggled.
We finished the walk in silence; Mary Beth was exhausted as usual. ‘I need to talk with Dr. Harris about her, and all the walking she’s been doing.’ We quickly got ready for bed. I decided to try out one of the pink baby doll nighties. I was just turning down the covers, when Mary Beth knocked.
“Come in,” I called out.
“So, who’s the girly, girl now?” she teased.
I just shook my head and giggled, “I wore this kind of nightie most of the time last summer. Besides, I like being a girly girl.”
“Oh my, aren’t you just the cutest little thing,” she snickered, while running her fingers through my hair.
I frowned at her, as I shook my head.
“You know, you’ll look even better once your hair grows out.”
“Oh you,” I moaned, as I straightened out my hair, with my hand. “Come on, let’s say our prayers and get into bed.
“Okay ... I just wish I had my scriptures. I used to read for about ten minutes, before I went to bed, I really miss that.”
“I know what you mean. Wait a second, tomorrow’s Sunday.” I grabbed my PDA and sent Ellen a note, asking her what church services were available here.
We knelt together and said our prayers. We were just getting into bed when my PDA beeped. It was from Ellen, I hadn’t expected her to reply so fast. She gave me a link to where the schedule of the religious services for the school was kept. We discovered that services for five religious denominations were scheduled. We were delighted to find that LDS services would be held in the small dining room that Beca and I had used while I was in training. The meetings were to start right after years D — H finished breakfast.
With that information, and with the calendar on our PDA's, we planned the next day's schedule. Starting the day with a quick shower, followed by meeting the others in the lounge at 7:00, then breakfast, a visit with Rachael, then church, lunch, afternoon choir practice, dinner, the Halloween Ball and then back to our rooms. If it weren't for an hour or so of free time, thrown in here and there, we would need a wheelchair for Mary Beth so she wouldn't collapse from exhaustion. There's no way she would be able to run back and forth, trying to keep up with a schedule that was any tighter.
'Good heavens, when am I going to find time to work my way through this computer system, to the outside. I've got lots of information to uncover before I'll know what can be done about Bart. With schedules like this, the only time I'll have to myself, is when I'm in the bathroom. I wonder ...'
Read older comments here.
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 3
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
New secrets to keep.
Do I really need another name? I’m just getting used to this one.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 3
By Penny Reed Cardon
It was Sunday morning, my first Sunday as Matilda. I showered and headed for my closet. I looked at the clothes, but not in the same way. Today I was looking for just the right outfit to wear to church, another first for me. There weren't any real fancy dresses, except for my blue graduation dress. This was a special occasion and I was going to wear the blue dress, but then I thought about Mary Beth, and the options that were available to her. I decided on some plain, heavyweight white tights, a full slip, a simple pink knee length dress, and some matching shoes.
After I finished getting ready, I knock on the interconnecting door. Usually Mary Beth has knocked before I’m ready.
When there was no answer to my knock I turned the knob and pulled the door open, just enough to talk through. "Mary Beth! Is everything all right? ... Mary Beth?" I yelled.
"I'm here!" There was a distinctly sad tone to her voice. "I'm in the closet."
"What's the matter, can't decided what to wear?"
"No, I know what I want to wear. I just can’t get these stupid elastic bandages on."
"No problem. I've helped you with them for the last two days. I'll just come in and wrap you up."
"NO! Don't come in here!"
"Oh, I think I understand. Yesterday you wore pants and a blouse, the day before it was a skirt and blouse. Today you're planning on a dress and you don't want me to see you in just your panties, so you're trying to do it by yourself. How am I doing so far?"
"Correct as usual, Miss Holmes."
"Well, we need to hurry; it's almost 7:00. So put on a pair of pants and a camisole, get your dress and slip, and come out here. I'll wrap you up, help you with your slip and dress, and then I'll leave so you take off the pants. That should take care of the problem of getting the bandages on, while allowing you to maintain your dignity and comfort."
Mary Beth answered by coming out, dressed as I'd suggested. She laid her dress and slip on the bed and then hugged me. "Matilda, what would I do without you?"
"Well, if you weren't here with me, you'd have the same problem, which is how to get these bandages on and get ready for church. You'd probably need to have Jeffrey help you."
"I guess you're right about that, being that nobody else at home would talk to me. It would be a little embarrassing, having my five year-old brother helping me get dressed," she sadly replied.
I gently hugged her for a moment longer, then added, "That's all right, not everyone is as loving and understanding as you are."
She sighed, before she responded, "That's not why I'm sad. I was thinking about poor Jeffrey, stuck in that house with a family that has been so cold and unloving the last few weeks. You know it wasn’t always like that. I don’t understand why Mom went so crazy when she found out about you being who you are. For Jeffrey’s sake, I hope they will forget about all this craziness and figure out how to be the kind of loving family they once were. You know? … Jeffrey is the only one I'm really going to miss. He was always so happy and cheerful, even if he was sneaking into my room all the time."
We slowly released each other and I helped Mary Beth get ready. Soon we were in the year lounge, being questioned about how we were dressed.
"What on earth are you two all dressed up for?" Tony demanded.
"W - What?" I stuttered, surprised by what appeared to be a verbal assault.
Quickly Em stepped between me and Mary Beth, and Tony "Don't worry about him, he just acts mean, tough, and rebellious. It's the evil streak in his personality sneaking out." Smiling, she turned around and looked at Tony, then added, "He's really a pussycat when you get to know him."
Mary Beth teasingly asked, "You're sure he doesn't bite?"
"Bite? No!" Em turned back to face us, giggling, she whispered, "Although, he has been known to nibble a little now and then." Tony blushed as he headed for an empty couch.
"That makes me feel better," I chuckled. "For a moment I thought I was going to lose something."
"So, why are you all dressed up?" Em inquired pleasantly.
"Well, today is Sunday, so we're dressed to go to church," Mary Beth explained.
"According to the schedule of religious services, the LDS services are held in the small dining room, after years D - H finish breakfast," I added.
"CHURCH?" bellowed SueAnn.
"Why did you dress up so early?" Jenny asked. "You could go to breakfast, come back to change and then go back over."
"We could," I explained, "except that we're going to visit Rachael during that time. We were wondering if any of you would like to go with us ..."
"Here it comes, they're trying to relig-ify us!" SueAnn moaned.
"... and be introduced to Rachael?" I concluded, ignoring the comment from SueAnn. Almost everyone raised their hands. "Oh, I don't think they would like having the entire year packed into her room. I think that maybe three pairs today, three tomorrow and the last three on Tuesday. How about Jenny and Aaron, George and SueAnn, Barb and Tina this morning, is that okay with everyone?"
Everyone was agreeable with that arrangement. Then Aaron went over the day’s schedule, which held nothing new. On our way to breakfast, SueAnn came over, walking next to Mary Beth and me, "I'm sorry. My comment was out of line."
"Don't worry about it SueAnn," Mary Beth replied.
"It's like we said on Thursday, we aren't going to try and force our religion on anyone," I added.
"So if you don't bug us about going to church, we won't bug you about NOT going to church," Mary Beth explained.
"I’m sorry, I guess I'm just used to the ligious nuts from home. They never left you alone," SueAnn shook her head, as she remembered.
"Well, it's not supposed to be that way, and we definitely aren't that way," I stated. "So, SueAnn, where are you from?" I asked, changing the subject.
"I'm from a little town call Richmond, it's bout thirty miles south of Fayetteville, North Carolina. Please, just call me Sue."
"All right, Sue it is. North Carolina is a long way from here. How did you hear about this school?" Mary Beth inquired.
"Well, bout two months before school was out, back home, they had everyone in my class take some test. Boy was it was a weird en. Anyway, bout five weeks later my teacher give me a letter to take home. It told my dad that the test I took before, was to see which students would do better in a different kind a school. It also asks if I can take another test, just to make sure. Dad figured it would be OK, so he signed the papers."
"What did your mom say about it?" Mary Beth asked.
"Oh, I don't got no mom. Just me, my dad, and my big brothers Jed and Scott."
"What happened to your mother?" I asked.
"Well, dad told me she died when I was little. But while I was waiting to be picked up to come here, Scott told me that mom wanted a little girl when I was born. He said that mom used ta put me in little dresses and girl's clothes. Scott said that dad come home from work early one day and found me dressed like a girl. Dad threw a fit, beat mom for dressing his son up as a girl, then he run her off."
"Oh Sue, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad," I apologized.
"There’s nothing ta be sorry bout. I guess it'd be different if I knew my mom, but I don't member her at all. I guess I should be mad at dad ya know, for beaten on my mom and running her off. I do wish I'd have known my mom. Know what's funny bout all of it, now I put my own self in dresses, and I really like it."
We were all giggling, as we entered the cafeteria. Mr. Peterson's announcements weren't exactly brief, " Good morning everyone, now that year A has joined us, we’ll get started. The only announcements I have for you this morning, is a reminder that there would be no dinner served in the cafeteria. There will, of course, be an appropriately ghoulish buffet set up in the ballroom. Because the kitchen staff received so many requests for it, I do believe that there will be a repeat of last years popular eye ball soup." This announcement was met with a mixture of cheer's and boo's. "All right, settle down, as is tradition, the ball will begin at 6:00 pm and run until midnight, for those who last that long. And yes, your curfew for tonight is extended, everyone is to be in their rooms by 12:30. Tomorrow's 9:00 am lessons will start promptly at 10:00. One final note, for those who are truly morning people, an enticing breakfast is planned for 8:00, to include any leftovers from tonight's buffet. I believe that's everything, I'll see you all this evening."
"Does anyone know what eye ball soup is?" I asked.
Kathy Ray, was our psychiatrist for the day, "Do any of you know the movie 'Indiana Jones, The Temple of Doom'?" Several of us nodded. "Remember the scene where they're having dinner and the waiter brings out a large soup bowl that had eyeballs floating in it?"
We nervously looked around the table at each other, then back at Kathy, we couldn't tell if she was joking or not. I wasn’t sure if I want to find out.
The Halloween Ball and each other’s costumes were the main topic of discussion. Mary Beth and I had decided to keep our selection of costumes a secret until the ball; that turned out to be harder than I thought. When we had finished breakfast, the eight of us went over to see Rachael.
We arrived at the nurse’s station where Tina greeted us. I asked everyone to wait there while I checked to make sure Rachael was ready to receive visitors.
"Good morning Sis, how's it hanging?" I giggled at my teasing question.
"By ropes from the ceiling of course. I see your sense of humor hasn't changed … it still needs improving. Matilda, what are you all dressed up for?" she came back.
"I don't know, I still think my idea of smuggling you to the Halloween Ball as a mummy was pretty funny. As for being dressed up, you may have forgotten, but today is Sunday. Mary Beth and I are going to church," I answered, as I picked up a brush and started on her hair.
"Oh right, taking me to the ball as a mummy, that's about as funny as your Elephant jokes. They're really going to take you to our church dressed like that?"
"Oh, come on Sis, Elephants, red toenails, cherry trees, those jokes are classics. As for church, they have services here at the school for five different religions. Remember, this school has students from across the whole country."
"Oh, your jokes are classics all right; they’re like Mom’s classical music, they'll both put you to sleep. There can't be that many members of our church here, could there?"
"Well, I can see you're feeling better today. Your comebacks are up to normal, as for how many members of the church there are, I'll let you know. Do you think you're up to some visitors?"
"You mean besides you? I was wondering what you did with Mary Beth."
“She is waiting with the others at the nurse’s station. I wanted to make sure you were ready before I brought anyone else in.”
“Others! How many others?”
“Only six others. Everyone wanted to come, but I didn’t think Tina would like having all of the Black Sheep packed into your room at once. We’ll bring another six tomorrow and the last six on Tuesday," I put down the brush and started on her bed. "Here, let me straighten your blankets a little, your modesty is in need of protecting.”
“Thank you Matilda. I wish I could do something besides lay here.”
“Well, we'll just have to see what we can do about that. There, you’re all tucked in. Are you ready for some company?”
“Okay, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I just feel like I’m a sideshow exhibit at the carnival. Come see the mummified girl, pull her fingers and tickle her toes.”
“Toes! I forgot about that, you always hated to have your feet bare. I’ll bring you some socks to cover your toes, tomorrow. Now sit tight, and don't go anywhere while I go get some friends.”
“Like, where am I going to go?" She shook her head at me. "Bring um on sis!”
I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. “All right everyone. Her Majesty is ready to receive guests.”
“Her Majesty?” called out Rachael. “Who are you trying to impress, them, or me?”
I looked back at her and giggled, “Both.”
Once everyone was in, and gathered around, I proceeded with the introductions, starting with those that were closest to me. “Everyone, this is my sister, Rachael. Rachael, this is George and SueAnn, Barbara and Christina, and Jennifer and Aaron.”
“Hello everyone, you will forgive me if I don’t get up,” giggled Rachael.
“Well … I don’t know, it’s considered rude to not stand and shake hands when being introduced to someone new,” George said with a very, serious tone.
"To be sure, in some cultures the failure to shake hands after a formal introduction is considered to be an insult," Barbara added.
“In some countries it’s punishable by cutting off a finger, or even the whole hand,” Christina added.
"Certainly, an exception is made for someone in a hospital bed?" Rachael exclaimed.
"Only in the degree of punishment," Aaron joined in. "Instead of cutting of your hand, the offended party would be allowed to ... tickle your toes."
Jenny couldn't contain her laughter any more. After a good laugh, and a question on Rachael's face, Jenny explained, "Rachael, allow me to present one third of the 'Black Sheep', who are without a doubt, one of the biggest groups of fun loving hecklers and pranksters I have ever known."
"So everything they said was ..." Rachael started.
Jenny interrupted, "Was just their way of saying hello, and that they are happy to meet you."
"We got the same treatment when we were introduced to them, three days ago," Mary Beth remarked with a giggle.
"So, you're telling me that being made fun of, is a good thing?"
"Don't think of it as being made fun of, think of it more like ... an initiation," George added with a grin.
"After all, Matilda is one of us and you're her sister, that makes you an honorary member of the Black Sheep," Christina added.
"And that's a good thing?" Rachael asked.
"Oh yes! It's like being part of a big family. We all look out for each other, and we all help one another," SueAnn offered with a smile.
"So, it seems I've been officially adopted into the Black Sheep. Well, as the newest member of the family I have a small request."
"What would that be?" Jenny asked.
Rachael paused a moment before answering, "That nobody touches my toes."
"That's where she's the most ticklish," I giggled. "Well, except for one other place, but I'm sworn to secrecy."
"And don't you forget it!" warned Rachael. "You don't want me telling everyone your secrets … do you?"
"I'm not sure,” Barbara snickered, “but I don't think Matilda has any secrets left to reveal."
"Well, maybe one or two," I whispered.
"Matilda!" Mary Beth scolded. I jumped at her tone. "We'll talk about this later."
Everyone chuckled a little at Mary Beth's scolding, and I'm sure I was blushing. We spent the rest of our time with Rachael, in pleasant conversation. She seemed very happy to have someone to talk with.
The time passed quickly and soon it was time for Mary Beth and me to leave. I leaned over and gave Rachel a little hug, “I hate to do this, but Mary Beth and I need to be going. It wouldn't make a very good impression to be late to church on our first day.”
“Do you really have to go?” Rachael begged.
“I’m afraid so. The others don’t have to leave, though.” Turning to the others, “The rest of you are free to stay as long as you’d like. It sounds like my sister is craving some company. We’ll see all of you at lunch.” With our goodbyes said, Mary Beth and I took our leave, heading back to the cafeteria.
As we approached the small dining room, the door was standing open. I noticed that the tables had been removed and about thirty chairs had been place in neat rows, with about half of them already occupied. There was also a small piano near the front of the room, according to how the chairs were arranged. Just outside the door were two men, one about thirty, and the other about fifty. They were dressed in dark suits, white shirts and ties, and each had a black and white nametag, just like the one’s I’ve seen on the LDS missionaries.
I paused for a moment and took Mary Beth’s hand. I looked at her; she looked at me, smiling at each other, we took a deep breath and continued on.
“Good morning Mary Beth. Good morning Matilda,” the older man greeted as he offered to shake hands, “I’m Elder Johnson.”
“And I’m Elder Bennett. We’re happy you have decided to join us this morning.”
"Good morning,” we chorused.
"Excuse me, but how did you know who we are?" I asked. "We've only been here three days."
"Let's just say that we do know you, and leave it at that," Elder Johnson replied.
"So how much do you know about us?" Mary Beth wondered aloud.
"Well, I'd say that we know as much about you as you know about each other," Elder Bennett answered. "Shall we go in and meet the others?"
'More pieces of the puzzle that don't match up with the other pieces. They know us, but we've never met. They aren't Missionaries, but their nametags are the same style. I wonder if they come up here from the valley, just to hold services?'
"Elder Bennett, what's the condition of the roads outside the school grounds?" I asked casually.
"I don't know, why?"
"Well, we have about a foot of snow here, I was wondering if my Mother will be able to get here today, to visit with Rachael?"
"I'll try to find out and let you know," Elder Johnson added.
"Thank you." 'That told me a lot. Now I know that they're residents here. They also didn't ask who Rachael is, which means they already know who, and where she is. As only a few people know about her, I'd say there's a ninety percent chance that they're part of school security. I wonder if those are their real names?'. I smiled to myself, as Mary Beth and I passed them, going into the dining room.
Mary Beth and I will not force our religious preferences on our fellow students. Likewise, I will not force it upon those reading this tale. If you don't wish to read about our first Sunday service, you may skip down to the next set of asterisks.
"Good morning everyone," Elder Johnson greeted as he opened the meeting, "we'd like to welcome all of you this morning, especially our newest members Matilda and Mary Beth. We'll leave a little time later for proper introductions."
We sang an opening hymn, 'The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning'. One of the older students played the piano. I recognized her as a member of the orchestra, but didn't know her name, yet. Another led the singing. Considering there were only twenty of us in the room, it sounded pretty good. After the opening hymn, another student offered an invocation. That was followed by the sacrament hymn. Elder Johnson pronounced the blessing on the bread and two of the boys passed the bread to everyone. Then Elder Bennett pronounced the blessing on the water and it was also passed to everyone.
'Pretty normal so far, I figured that having church outside of a regular church house would feel strange, but it doesn't. It's actually relaxing and enjoyable being here. I feel as at home here, with these two Elders and our fellow students, as I did in my ward back home. It's funny, sitting here thinking about all the different places I've attended church. In some of the wards we visited, when my family was traveling, I felt like an unwanted alien. Not here though, I feel calm, peaceful, relaxed, and at home.'
There were three talks given, the first two were by students. Then we sang another hymn, ‘I Know That My Redeemer Lives’ followed by a talk by Elder Bennett. They had each selected a speaker from General Conference, which had been three weeks ago, and highlighted the main points of their talks.
After the closing hymn, 'I Stand All Amazed', and benediction, Elder Johnson reminded everyone of the branch 'Family Home Evening' on Monday evening. 'Well, he reminded everyone else; it was new information for and me and Mary Beth. What surprised me, was that our little group is considered a student branch'. He also informed everyone that because of the altered schedule for choir practices, Family Home Evening would be during the senior student’s dinnertime. He went on to say that everyone in the branch had been granted permission to eat with the junior students.
We were then introduced to the other members of the branch. They went around the room and introduced themselves, as well as telling us a little about them. First was Becky and Chad from year B, Becky is fond of small animals and forests, while Chad has a thing for fast cars. Tina and Susan are in year C, Susan wants to be a model, whereas Tina dreams of building the first truly functional robotic maid. Marilyn and Tommy are in year D, Marilyn is interested in high quality sound systems and Tommy is interested in theater. Susie and Rusty are in year F, Rusty likes to fly, while Susie likes to sing. Janice and Ty Bickmore are year G, Janice and Ty were the only ones to give a last name. I discovered later that they had been married last August. There were also Shawna and Cory from year B, Lexi and Emily from year E, and Darryl and Terry in year H.
We were just getting a good conversation going, when Elder Johnson cut in, reminding us that we only had the room reserved until 11:30. He told us that we would be welcome to continue our conversation in the main dining room. So that's what we did, well, about half of us anyway.
As we were moving, I remembered a question I had. Quickly returning to small dining room, where Elder Bennett was cleaning the sacrament trays, I interrupted him, "Elder Bennett?"
"Yes Matilda, what can I do for you?"
"Well, I was wondering, who do I need talk to about getting some scriptures? Mary Beth is used to reading every night before going to bed and she really misses it."
"And what about you?"
"Well, I didn't read every day like Mary Beth, only three or four times a week. But if it makes her happy to read before going to bed, I'll join her."
"That's terrific! I'll make the arrangements. To make things easy on everyone, we've loaded the scriptures onto an 'SD card' that plugs into your PDA. I'll have one, along with the software that you'll need, delivered to each of your rooms. If you have any trouble accessing them, I'm sure that Janice would be happy to help you."
"Thank you Elder Bennett, but I think I'll be able to figure it out," I smiled.
'From what I’ve head about you, I’m sure that you will,” he chuckled. “Will you be joining us tomorrow evening then?”
“I don't know. Our schedule is always changing as new things are added. All I can promise is that we'll try to be there."
"Well, we can't ask for anything more than that, I do know how quickly things change around here. We'll look forward to seeing you then."
"Thanks again, see you later." I waved, as I left the room.
The others were deeply involved in a discussion of tonight's Halloween Ball and the buffet.
"So Matilda, your nickname is 'Munchkin'?" asked Becky.
"Well," I sighed, "yes I guess it is. It's Beca's fault, she's the one that started calling me Munchkin."
"Beca, year F's year leader?" asked Susan. "How come she nicknamed you? Usually it's someone in your own year that comes up with funny nicknames."
"When I was here before, going through girl 101 and 102, Beca was my big sister. It was on my last day here; well, at least I thought it was going to be my last day here. Anyway, as I was hugging her as if there would be no tomorrow, she cried out, 'Let go of me you crazy little munchkin'. Everyone has been calling me Munchkin ever since."
"I also hear you're going to be a munchkin for the Halloween Ball," added Tommy.
"Mary Beth!" I scolded. "I thought we were keeping that a secret until tonight."
"But, I didn't say a word. Promise," she said as she crossed her heart and held up her right hand.
"All right Tommy, if Mary Beth didn't tell you, and I didn't tell you, then how did you ..."
"I work with Mr. McGuiness. He told me how beautifully the munchkin costume fit you. He was so pleased that it fit you without needing any alterations."
"Well, how many people have you told about it?"
"Only Marilyn, oh, of course everyone here knows about it now. I suppose most of the staff know as well."
"All right everyone," I started, as I looked around the group, "you are all sworn to secrecy. I know it's not much of a secret, because tonight everyone will know. Until then I'd appreciate it if you didn't pass the word around the whole school. Tommy, what do you mean about the staff knowing?"
"Every night, while we are at choir practice, the teachers and psychiatrists get together and discuss the days activities," explained Marilyn.
"Great! Everyone is going to know! So much for keeping something a secret around here." I paused, then asked nervously, "Do the psychiatrists tell everyone, everything they know about the students?"
"Of course not," replied Marilyn. "That would be unethical. Mostly, they listen to what the teachers have to say."
Mary Beth realizing what I was concerned about, queried, "I can't imagine that just anyone can sit in on one of these meetings. How do you know what goes on, what they talk about?"
Tommy sputtered a little before actually answering, "Well ... Um, we can't tell you how we know, at least not yet. We just know!"
From the looks on the faces on everyone younger than Tommy and Marilyn, this was new information to them as well. Several started whispering among them selves, then said their farewells, as they hurried off. I assumed they were off to tell the others in their respective years what they'd just learned from Tommy and Marilyn.
After we said so long to everyone, I turned to Mary Beth. "It's almost time for lunch. I don't suppose you want to walk over to the year lounge, just to turn around and walk back here, do you?"
"Not really. I wonder how much longer these silly ribs of mine are going to hurt, before they start getting better."
"I don't know. We'll have to ask Dr. Harris, the next time we see him. Anyway, our year will just have to wait to learn this new information."
We moved to our usual table and sat down to wait. I got out my PDA and started tapping at the keys on the screen. "What are you doing?" Mary Beth inquired.
"Learning," I absentmindedly replied.
"Matilda, are you going to get into trouble again?"
"Possibly."
"Why only possibly?"
"Well, Ellen did tell me that I was to do my best at whatever I'm doing. I'm just doing what I was told to do."
"All right, you're doing your best, but doing your best at what?"
"You know that something has to be done about Bart. He can't be allowed to go around beating up on little kids. Somehow, justice must be served. I’m just trying to figure out how to get what we know about him into the right hands, without us having to go to court to testify. If I can just figure out how to get into the main system ... YES, ALL RIGHT, That’s what I’m talking about."
"All right, what?"
"I just made it around the firewall and into the school’s main server system without setting off any of the alarms or tripping over any booby traps. Now, let's see what we have here. Hum, that's interesting, encrypted files and hidden directories … I wonder …”
“Uh, Matilda,” Mary Beth tugged at my sleeve. “Would Mr. Peterson coming towards us be of interest to you?”
“Hum, what?” She was pointing in the direction of the approaching principal.
“Oh, yes that would be interesting,” I whispered as I shut down my PDA. Announcing loudly, “I surrender Mary Beth, you win again. I’ve never been able to beat you at Hang Man. Oh, hello Mr. Peterson it’s nice to see you again.”
“Hello ladies. A little early, and slightly overdressed, for lunch, aren’t you?” he replied, smiling.
“We’re only just a little early,” replied Mary Beth.
“We attended the LDS church service this morning. We thought it would be silly to walk over to the year’s lounge, just to walk back again,” I added.
“I agree with you Matilda, that would be just a bit silly, not to mention a little strenuous on Mary Beth,” Mr. Peterson agreed as he sat down with us. “That isn’t why I thought I’d visit with you today. First, I was wondering what you think of Immigration Manor?”
“That’s hard to say Mr. Peterson,” Mary Beth confessed.
“That’s true, after all, all we’ve seen of the school is our rooms.”
“The cafeteria.”
“The theater.”
”And the hospital.” Mary Beth and I alternated phrases.
“Hmm, yes, well I can see where that would leave you with a limited outlook. I hope you will have a different opinion of us after the ball tonight. Actually, that’s why I wanted to talk with you. Matilda, I understand that you are going to the ball as a munchkin from the Wizard of Oz, is that correct?”
Shaking my head I slowly answered, “Yes, Mr. Peterson, that’s correct. I felt that was the best option I had, from the limited choices Mr. McGuiness had available. Now, I’m not so sure. News certainly travels fast around here.”
"Yes, well, I do like to be kept informed. After all, as the Principle, I'm supposed to know what's going on around here. Matilda, um ... how well do you know the story of 'The Wizard of Oz'?"
"Um, I don't know, pretty well I guess. Why?"
"Have you ever done any acting?"
"Not really, um ... what's going on?"
"Tell me my dear, do you think you could really act like a little munchkin?"
"Mr. Peterson, what are you talking about?"
"You know, act terrified if you encounter a Bad Witch, dance and sing if you see a Good Witch? Just like the munchkins would."
"I suppose I can try to act that way. Mr. Peterson could you tell me something ... why are we having this conversation?"
"What conversation?" he said with a smile. He then stood up, just before turning to leave he added, "By the way, do you have a name that you go by when you're dressed as a munchkin? Oh well, never mind. I'll see you both this evening."
After Mr. Peterson left, Mary Beth and I sat motionless for sometime. I finally closed my mouth and looked at Mary Beth; her mouth was still hanging open. I reached over and gently pushed up on her chin, which brought her out of her trance.
"Matilda! What just happened?"
"Mary Beth, I have no idea. I've never been so confused by such a short conversation, that apparently didn't take place. I'm guessing that Mr. Peterson wants me to act like a munchkin tonight at the ball, although, I don't know why. I am certain that we aren't to tell anyone else about this, um, imaginary conversation."
"Great! At least I know that I'm not the only one confused by something that didn't happen. One thing I think I'm sure of is that you, my dear little munchkin, need a munchkin name."
"Hey, you're right there," I said, as I got out my PDA and linked to the internet. "I've got to change the direction of my research for today. Let's see now, I don't remember if any of the munchkins had names. I guess I better get reading."
"What do we tell the others, they'll be here in about ten minutes?"
"We tell them nothing, I'll only be able to work on this when were alone."
"Okay, what are you doing now?"
"Looking on the University of Virginia web site for the original story ... Terrific, it's here, ‘The Wonderful Wizard of Oz’ by Frank Baum, 1904. Now download it, very good, now all I have to do is speed read to the point that Dorothy leaves Munchkin Land."
I started reading as the other years started entering the cafeteria. Chapter one was before Dorothy arrived in Oz. Skipping that, I started skimming through chapter two. 'I've never read anything by Frank Baum before, his writing is easy to follow, and enjoyable reading. I think I'll have to read all of his works sometime.'
I finished skimming chapter two as year A started sitting around us. "Hi Matilda, Mary Beth, how did you like your church service?" inquired Misa.
"It was great," Mary Beth replied. You should come ..."
I quickly placed my hand on Mary Beth's and shook my head, saying, "It was better than I expected. We both enjoyed being there,"
"Mary Beth, what were you going to say?" Sue inquired.
"Nothing important, just that motherly training peaking out again. Please forgive me. Um, I hope you enjoyed your morning as much as we did." 'Good recovery, Mary Beth.'
"Well, I'm pleased to see that year A has arrived before the announcements," Mr. Peterson chuckled, as he stood up. "Unfortunately, or perhaps it's fortunately, I have no other announcements at this time, other than I’m pleased that year A is on time. Enjoy your meals."
"Gee whiz," George complained, "the first time in two weeks that we haven't been late. There weren't even any announcements that we would have missed, if we were late."
"So, the fact that everyone has been late to every meal since Matilda and I got here, isn't because of my walking slow?"
"Oh no, it has nothing to do with you. We've been late to just about everything since school started last June," Peggy commented.
"Maybe that's why he calls us the Black Sheep," Christina suggested.
"It's probably part of why he calls us the Black Sheep," Misa agreed.
"Of course, that's not the only reason. Remember the um, disagreement we had with year B last July?" Deanna added.
"What disagreement?" Mary Beth asked.
Misa started, "Well, it was rather trivial ..."
George interrupted, "You call what they did to us, trivial?"
"Easy George! We don't want to go through that again," cautioned Morgan.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Well," Peggy continued the tale, "someone from year B offered a … suggestion,"
"A suggestion? They insulted us!" George gruffly whispered.
"George! Stop it right now," SueAnn warned her study partner. "I is not going to be treated like a baby girl again. So forget bout it!"
"All right," he grumbled, returning to his lunch.
I remembered seeing something, briefly, while I was looking at the directories on the main server. I went back in and found the directory ‘Disciplinary Action’ with a sub-directory ‘Year A 2004’. There was a detailed account of the action that had been taken. There was however, no mention of what prompted such action, 'I'm not sure I want to know what they did to receive this type of discipline. Just between you and me, the pink frilly dresses sound like fun, but being babied by the year H students is definitely out of the question.'
I showed my PDA to Misa and quietly asked, "Is this what they're talking about?"
After reading a little she replied, "Yes, that was how we were disciplined, a week of being treated as little children, for acting like little children. Matilda, how did you get this file? I've never seen a report of that incident in such detail."
"Oh, well, it's just a file I came across while I was learning how the system works."
"Matilda, did you hack into the schools secure server?" she appeared shocked.
"I found eight servers so far, is one of them supposed to be a secured server?" Misa appeared a little shaken by last statement.
"Relax Misa," Mary Beth said with a giggle, "it’s just what she does. At our old school, she was banned from even sitting in front of a computer. Even when she was recovering from her um, breakdown, I couldn't leave her alone if there was a computer in the room."
"Matilda, do RJ and Mr. Peterson know about your, ah, abilities?" asked Peggy.
"I know that Mr. Peterson knows about my, ah, talent. Before he gave Ellen permission for me to come here as a temporary student, she had to assure him that I wouldn't be permitted near a computer. Ellen told my Mother that it was estimated that, if I were left alone with a computer, I'd be through the main security systems in twenty minutes or less. As for RJ, I don't know what he knows, I haven't met him yet."
"Matilda, looking at your student profile, neither you nor Mary Beth has a specialty listed, how come?"
"I noticed that as well. I guess it's because we haven't picked a specialty yet," I explained.
Morgan corrected me, "Oh, you don't pick your specialty. They're assigned, by the school. Are you saying that you haven't been assigned specialties yet?"
Mary Beth was faster than I was. "No, no one has said anything about a specialty."
"Well, we'll just have to take care of that little oversight, I'll speak to Ellen as soon as we're finished with lunch," Kathy assured us. "As for your unauthorized access of the schools computer systems, do you remember each step you took, key stroke by key stroke?"
"Yea, I guess so, why?" I asked.
"Because if I know RJ, he's going to want a demonstration of exactly what you did, a step by step explanation of how you got past his security."
"Great, I'm in trouble all ready," I grumbled.
"Oh, I wouldn't say you're in trouble," Kathy went on to explain. "This is, after all, a school, and everyone here is still learning, that includes me, Ellen, Mr. Peterson, and RJ. RJ will want to know what you did so he'll be able to improve the schools systems."
"So I'm not in trouble?" I asked with a sigh.
"I don't think so," Kathy said with a smile. "Just to be on the safe side though, you better have a demonstration ready for RJ tomorrow."
'Good grief, when am I going to find time to do everything, research a name, choir practice, get ready for the ball, and learn to act like a munchkin, all before 6:00 when the ball starts. So much for this school being all fun and games.'
The rest of lunch passed without any more unexpected surprises, after which all of year A went to the year lounge. As was normal, everyone else seemed to walk a little faster than Mary Beth and I, this time it was welcome.
As soon as she thought no one could hear us, Mary Beth asked, "Did you find a name to use?"
"No! The only name given for any munchkin is for a Rich Old Munchkin named Bog."
"What are you going to do now?"
"Well, as soon as I can, I'll get back on the internet and search for the movie script. Hopefully I’ll be able to find something there."
"Can you go on-line from here?"
"I don't know, I guess it couldn't hurt to try." After I linked in and waded through two pages of the 112,000 matches to 'The Wizard of Oz' I found and downloaded the script. I had a sudden urge to thank my friend. "You know Mary Beth, sometimes you're brilliant," I said just before we entered the dorm. Then I reached up and kissed her cheek.
Her response wasn't what I expected. "Yuck! What did you do that for?" she complained, while wiping her cheek.
"I don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."
"Well, just warn me next time, so it isn't a surprise, okay?"
"Um, okay. It'll probably sound funny though, but I'll remember," I promised, with a giggle.
As we entered the lounge, I glanced at the time. ‘Forty-five minutes until choir practice, that means that Mary Beth only has twenty minutes to rest here before we need to get started. Of course, that should give her ten minutes to rest there before practice begins.’ Looking around I noticed an empty couch, which is where I guided Mary Beth. Fortunately, it was close to those I wanted to talk with, Aaron, SueAnn, and Christina. I wanted to ask them to help with some remote control systems for Rachael.
"So, what did you think of Rachael?" I bluntly asked.
"She's pretty neat. Why isn't she a student here? You're twins aren't you?" Christina asked.
"No, we just look like twins," I replied.
"Matilda, I thought you said she's your little sister?" Aaron inquired.
"Yes! I'm fifteen months older than she is."
"That is interesting. Judging by your size I would have guessed that the two of you were twins," Jenny agreed.
"Yah, you're bout the same size, look the same, talk the same,” SueAnn added.
"A lot of people make that mistake," I said softly.
"And she's just about as smart as you are," Barbara added.
"She also has a better sense of humor. Oh, and she warned us about your elephant jokes," George added.
That’s all it took for me to realize that I was being had, and start laughing.
"What are you laughing about?" Mary Beth wanted to know.
"I'm just trying to figure out which one to call Statler and which one to call Waldorf. The problem is, they’re all hecklers."
"Who are Statler and Waldorf?" Deanna asked.
"You're telling me that you don't know the Muppets?" I responded.
"Yes, I've heard of the Muppets. So?" Deanna replied.
"Statler an Waldorf is da two old guys that is always heckling everyone," SueAnn explained, with a giggle.
Giggling, Jenny added, "And you Matilda, are as smart as Rachael said you are. It only took six lines before you realized what was going on."
"Okay everyone," Morgan called out. "Who had six?"
"That would be me," Em replied, standing up and bowing to the assembly. Everyone responded by applauding.
"You're telling me that I was the object of a betting pool? Do you do this often?" I asked.
"When ever we can, but it's becoming less often. The teachers have caught on to us, well, at least most of them," Deanna explained.
"The students in the other years tend to get a bit crabby about it, when we do it to them," Howard added.
"I have to ask; how did she do, I mean what's the average?" Mary Beth wondered.
"Oh, she did very well," Em answered. "If my figures are correct, and they usually are, the average is twelve point seven two."
"All right, so I figured out I was your most recent victim, and I figured it out very fast. I have two questions; first, what does Em get for winning the pool? Second, if we're a family, can I count on you to help me when I need it?" My second question seemed to take everyone by surprise, as the room suddenly fell silent.
After what seemed like half of forever, Jenny rose and came over to sit beside me. She took my hand into hers before braking the silence, "Matilda, we are a family, and everyone here will do what ever he or she can, to help each other. I sense you're troubled," she closed her eyes and sat up straight. "Oh my, yes, your soul is very troubled, by many things, things you must do, secrets you must keep, things that you will know that we won't be able to share. You face many challenges and you are ... unsure of yourself, and your ability to do what must be done."
Jenny let go of my hand and slowly opened her eyes. "Matilda, you are ... a most unique individual, how may we be of service to you?"
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 4
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Who do I trust? ... Who can I talk to?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 4
After Jenny let go of my hand, the room was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop, which would have been a neat trick considering the fact that the floor was carpeted. Needless to say, I didn't know what to say or do after that. I sat thinking for a time, before I finally spoke, "First, I have a confession to make. When I selected Jenny and Aaron, George and SueAnn, Barb and Tina to see Rachael this morning I didn't just pick you six by chance."
"Of course you didn’t," Aaron stated. "Jenny told me Thursday night after she hugged you, she felt that there was something unique about you, something that she's never felt before."
"So Matilda," Christina asked, "what can we do for you?"
'Oh gee, what is it that makes everyone go goofy after they get to know me? I used to think that the whole world was just full of crazy people. Now I'm starting to think I'm the crazy one, and everyone knows it but me. Maybe it's something else, something that I haven't figured out yet. I hate being the last one to solve the mystery.'
"Well, um," deep breath, "to start with there's Rachael. I can't leave her lying in that hospital bed without a way to, at least keep her mind active. She used to read two or three books a month, and I'm not talking about simple children books. Then there were the puzzles, we would put together fifteen hundred piece puzzles. If we could find some with more pieces we’d beg Mom for them."
"What is it that you want to do, to help her," Misa asked,
"Well, I was thinking of some special remote control system, something that could be attached to her cast just below her wrists. That way she would be able to use all of her fingers on the keys. I don’t mean just something to control the TV with, too much of that will rot your brain. I'm talking about a wireless computer keyboard, linked to a computer in her room, along with some kind of pointing system that wouldn't need her to move more than a finger. Then she would be able to read e-books, do word puzzles, what ever else we can find that can be displayed on a computer screen. I was even thinking of adding a closed circuit TV system, so she could monitor and control small robots that would move around puzzle pieces."
Howard eventually broke the silence, "Well, you don't ask for small favors, do you?"
"How about if we just took turns reading to her," Vikk asked.
"No, Matilda is correct," Jenny explained. "Rachael is going to be in the hospital for a long time. We will not always have the extra time to go in and read to her. After all, we all have busy schedules. What is she to do while we are in class, or at choir practice?"
"Of course Matilda's right," George added. "It just sounds like a huge project."
"Actually it shouldn't be that big of a project," Aaron said, after thinking for a moment. "The wireless communication for the keyboard is the easy part. The hard part will be designing a totally different type of keypad, defining the placement of each key, the number of keys for each finger, perhaps even a small trackball for each thumb."
"Oh there's one other thing, the system needs to be debugged and operational before we leave for Toronto," I added.
“Now I know you’re crazy,” Walter exclaimed. “Something like this will take months to design, build, program and debug. And you want it done in six weeks?”
“Oh, I don’t expect to have a perfect system in six weeks. We should be able to come up with a workable proto-type by then, something that can be polished later. Who knows, this is something that we might be able to market after we graduate,” I explained, pointing out future possibilities.
With a slightly more realistic expectation to work with, several of the students started exchanging ideas. Before long, the room was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was adding their ideas, even though most of them hadn't met Rachael, everyone wanted to help in some way.
Jenny, who was still sitting next to me, whispered, "This is terrific, I have not seen each member of this year so excited about the same thing before. I want to thank you for helping them pull together so they can learn and work as a team. This however, is not the only thing that has you troubled, is it?"
"No Jenny, you're right about that. I'm still trying to figure out what to do about Bart, and well you're right about there being some things that I can't share with you."
"I understand Matilda. Just remember, there are no secrets between study partners. Also, Ellen can help you with your troubles."
I looked to my other side, at Mary Beth. Taking her hand I smiled, "We know about no secrets, don't we?"
"That's right, whatever Matilda knows I know, well mostly. I don't know how she does, what she does with computers. But, we share everything else."
"Speaking of sharing," I turned back to Jenny and continued softly, "after church several of us were talking. We heard from Tommy and Marilyn, from year D, that the teachers and psychiatrists get together each day during evening choir to discuss the students here. Everyone younger than Tommy and Marilyn seemed surprised by that. They hurried off to tell the others in their years. We didn't know if you guys knew, so we wanted to pass it on."
"Well, that is new information to me. Thank you for sharing that," Jenny whispered.
"Do you think we should tell the others?" Mary Beth asked.
"Well, there is not anything to be gained by telling them now versus later. Right now, they are all involved in trying to help Rachael. I think we should save this for another time,"
"Very well, we'll let you decide when the time is right," Mary Beth told her.
"Speaking of time, it's time for Mary Beth and me to start walking to choir practice."
"I do not understand, we have twenty minutes until practice, it is less than a ten minute walk." Jenny questioned.
"For everyone else that's true, but for Mary Beth it's at least fifteen minutes. That will only give her five minutes to rest before she has to stand and sing for the next two hours," I explained as we got up to leave.
We bid farewell, grabbed our coats and started for the theater. As soon as we were outside, I got out my PDA and started reading. Mary Beth did a great job of guiding me along the way, as I was totally involved in reading the movie script, from the Wizard of Oz. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived. Mary Beth went into the theater to rest, while I did a little resting of my own; or rather I took the opportunity to do a little communing with Mother Nature. My reading so far has turned up nothing, not even a clue as to a name for a girl munchkin.
Choir practice held no surprises, Christmas Carols for thirty minutes in English and ninety minutes in French. Afterwards everyone scurried back to their rooms to begin their transformations. I had only one more chance at finding a name, run the movie and hope to find something useful. I explained my idea to Mary Beth; she agreed and offered to help if she could.
We arrived at our building about five minutes behind everyone else. The year lounge was deserted; presumably, everyone was changing into their various costumes. Accessing the computer under the plasma screen, I discovered that I hadn't been authorized to use that system. I giggled as I got out my PDA.
"What's the matter?" Mary Beth asked.
"Oh, just a momentary setback, I haven't been set up as a user on this computer. It’ll just take a couple of minutes to create user accounts for us. Do you want to use your real name or should I create you an account using the nickname that Charles gave you?"
"Matilda, you ever mention that name to anyone around here and you'll be sleeping alone for a month!" she warned me.
“I’m just teasing. I know how you hate that name, so did Charles, that’s why he called you what he did. Anyway, I think your full middle name will be just perfect for this.”
“Just what is it you’re doing?”
“It’s really quite simple; I’m using my PDA to access the school’s main network. There I found a list of all the computer ID names; you know, judging from this list, there is a computer in everyone’s room except ours.”
“Geeee, I wonder why?” Mary Beth said very sarcastically, while looking at me with raised eyebrows.
I looked at her, smiled, and then shrugged my shoulders. “The next step is to access this computer through the network and set up two user accounts, Bethany and JamesTK.”
“Who on Earth is James T K?”
“Well he was from Earth, actually he was from Iowa. He didn’t spend much time on earth though, after he graduated from the academy.”
“The academy! What academy? Matilda would you please stop talking in riddles.”
“Star Fleet Academy of course.”
“Matilda, you’re not making sense.”
“It’s simple, a year and a half ago when I managed to get to the internet through the schools computer system I started chatting on-line. I needed a name to use, so I used my hero at the time, James T Kirk. I started chatting with someone who helped me a lot. They taught me a lot about the internet and how to work my way around computers.”
“So who is this mysterious teacher of yours?”
“I don’t know his name, actually I don’t know if it was a he or a she. The only thing I have is the name that they used on-line, ‘hhb303’. Ah, there we are, full access with administrator privileges. All we need to do now is find the list of available movies.”
It only took a couple of minutes to locate and scan through the movie directory. "DANG!"
"What's the matter?"
"With all the advanced technology that they have here, how can The Wizard of Oz not be part of their movie collection?"
"You mean it's not there?" Mary Beth asked, as she got up from a nearby couch to take a look.
Slowly I went through the entire directory again, on the off chance that it wasn't organized as I expected. "Now what do I do?"
"Well, nobody is here right now, but this lounge is too public a place for us to discuss this. Logout, and lets go to our rooms, together we'll come up with something."
"You're right," I mumbled as I followed her suggestion.
I was still trying, in vane, different search parameters through my PDA as Mary Beth guided me along. She was pulling me down, which I thought strange. It was then that I discovered we were in her room, on the couch.
Sadly, I put my arms around my friend and cried softly. I have access to everything on the net and I can't find what I need.
"Hey now, don't cry; it's only a name. Listen we'll just pick a name for my little Munchkin. Let's see, Munchkins are small and cute, so we need a name that's small and cute, how about Rosebud, Snapdragon, or just Flower?"
Sniffling, I giggled while I dried my eyes, "I can't use flower! That's the name of the skunk, in Bambi, how about Petunia?"
"No, it takes too long to pronounce."
"It's easier to pronounce than snapdragon."
"I guess you're right about that. What about Violet? It’s a small pretty flower, and easy to say."
"Violet, I like that, but my costume is mostly pink not violet."
"That’s okay; it will make it more amusing that way. Come on now, go to your room and get ready, my friendly little munchkin. I wish I had someone to put some makeup on me, Dorothy was older than I am."
"I suggest you send Ellen a note, and ask her if there's someone who could help you."
"That's a great idea. Now, get out of here so I can change."
I got up and went into my room, closing the door as I went. I was just about to enter my closet when I noticed that there was something in my room that wasn't there when I left this morning. On my desk sat a computer monitor, keyboard and mouse. I opened the cabinet to the right and as I suspected I found a mini-tower computer. On top of the monitor was a small package, wrapped in brown paper. I was too nervous to touch anything. While never taking my eyes off the computer, I went back to the interconnecting door and opened it slowly.
"Mary Beth," I called out. "Can you come into my room?"
"Matilda, close that door! I'm trying to get undressed."
"Mary Beth, I really need you to come into my room."
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until I'm dressed."
"Mary Beth NOW," I screamed. I've never screamed at Mary Beth before. Somehow, I knew what was in that small package, and why it and the computer had been put in my room. What scared me was the realization that this had been planned weeks ago.
"What is it Matilda? You sounded scared," Mary Beth came rushing to me, she was still in her dress but the zipper was part way down.
All I could do was point at the computer.
"Where on earth did that come from?"
I shook my head as I took her hand. I led her over and pointed out the package, then I sat down. Mary Beth opened the package. It was indeed what I suspected, a DVD. Not just any DVD mind you, it was ... 'The Wizard of Oz'.
Mary Beth joined me on the couch, "Matilda, what does this mean?"
"It means that someone, I don't know who yet, has something planned for this Munchkin. It also means that it has been weeks in the planning, possible longer. How long? I don't know, but long, since before you and I arrived here. All I'm sure of right now is, that I've got another mystery to solve."
"Well, at least the answer I got from Ellen, about someone to help with makeup, makes sense now."
"She replied already! What did she say?"
"She said that it was already arranged and that someone from year F would be here at quarter to six."
"That only gives us an hour to get ready and watch part of this movie. I need to review how Munchkins are supposed to act and maybe come up with a name."
"You're right, we better hurry. Oh, Matilda ... could I ask a favor?"
I smiled, for the first time in twenty minutes, "Of course I'll help you, just go slip some shorts on under your dress, and bring your Dorothy costume in here."
Mary Beth disappeared and I fired up the computer and opened the DVD. I had just selected the correct scene as she returned. Together we watched as Dorothy came out of her house, Glenda arrived, the Munchkins rejoiced at the death of the Wicked Witch of the East, screamed in terror and fled at the arrival of the Wicked Witch of the West, and finally they saw Dorothy on her way down the Yellow Brick Road. Through the entire scene, not one name was mentioned.
I ran it again as I helped Mary Beth change her clothes, then I went into my closet and changed into my munchkin costume. I was watching that section for the third time, learning how munchkins should act, when there was a knock at the door. I was paying particular attention to one munchkin; my costume appeared to be a duplicate of hers. Mary Beth answered the door, as I was involved.
"Um, … Hi?" Mary Beth's questionable greeting caught my attention.
I turned to see what was going on. What I saw standing outside my door, I assumed, were students dressed for the ball. The first was in an elegant gown, wig, and makeup. I recognized the character as 'Bell' from Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast'. The second ... I would have to say, creature; I also recognized, but haven't seen since Kirk and McCoy were imprisoned on Rura Penthe, I didn't think anyone at this school was that tall.
Attempting to get into the character of a munchkin, I jumped up from my chair screaming, ran around the coffee table and dove under the bed to hide.
"What's the matter with Matilda?" I heard someone ask.
"Oh, that's not Matilda, that's Violet," Mary Beth answered.
"Violet! Who's Violet?"
"I think the correct question is, what is Violet. The answer is a Munchkin of course, and Munchkins are afraid of just about everything." Mary Beth explained.
"Oh, well we've been asked to stop by and help with some makeup. I'll have a hard time doing anything with her, hiding under the bed." I heard some giggling, I was giggling as well.
"I’m afraid that she'll only come out if a 'Good Witch' tells her it's all right, are you a Good Witch, or a Bad Witch?"
"I'm not a witch, good or bad. I'm a princess."
"What about your ... Um ... Friend? Would he be a bad witch? According to Glenda, only bad witches are ugly."
'Gee its fun laying under my bed listening to them. Mary Beth makes a great Dorothy.’
"Oh, he isn't a witch. He is a big Brute and possibly considered ugly, by our standards. But he’s definitely not a witch."
It was during her last comment that I recognized Kimberley's voice. I giggled loudly, a high-pitched munchkin giggle.
"Perhaps you could persuade Violet to come out," Mary Beth suggested, with a giggle.
Shortly there after, the blankets were lifted and Bell peeked under. "Hello there little one ..."
"Oh, don't call her that," Mary Beth interrupted, "Call her Violet or munchkin. Munchkins may be small but they don't like being called ‘little one’."
"Thank you Dorothy. Violet, my name is Bell. It's all right, there aren't any witches around, you can come out now. No one here will hurt you." I inched forward, putting my hands into Kimberley's. She then pulled me out from under the bed.
After I was standing, I gave her a hug and thanked her using my best little girl voice, "Thank you kind lady." Seeing, whom I assumed to be Angel, I pretend to be scared again and tried to scurry away.
Kimberley, having a secure hold on my arm prevented my escape. "No, no, it's all right Violet, that's just a friend of mine. She's not going to hurt you."
I stopped fussing and looked up, and smiled, "Thank you for playing along Kimberley, I needed the practice."
"Aren't you taking this Munchkin thing just a bit too far?" she asked.
"Possible … but then again, perhaps not far enough," I answered cryptically.
"Well, from that response I'll assume that Mr. Peterson had a talk with you, today," Kimberley whispered in my ear.
I looked at her, wanting to ask a question, but remembering what Mr. Peterson said or rather didn't say, I didn't know who to talk with and who not to talk with. The best decision at this time was to say nothing. I just looked at her with a question in my eyes.
"Believe it or not Matilda, that was the correct response. Shall we get started on some makeup?" she asked with a smile.
"Sure, let me show you how I'd like to look. One of the munchkin’s here has a costume almost the same as this one." I cued up the DVD to the Munchkin that had the costume matching mine.
Kimberley did a great job, and soon I looked like I could have been the sister of the Munchkin on the screen. Then it was Mary Beth’s turn, and her transformation into Dorothy. Because of my little role playing it was about 6:20 before we were finished with makeup, so the four of us walked over together.
As we arrived at the hallway that led to the ballroom, Mary Beth and I were momentarily stunned by the lack of the usual illumination. In fact, the hall was almost completely dark. However, as Bell and ‘The Brute’ went down the hall, torches suddenly came on, alternating from one side to the other. I looked at Mary Beth, giggled and asked, “Are we still at Immigration Manor, or were we suddenly transported to Hogwarts?”
Kimberly turned around halfway, as we continued down the hall, "After the first 'Harry Potter' movie was released several of our students were so intrigued by the torches, they figured out how to make some that would work. Once they had a working prototype, we built a couple of dozen. We use them for special occasions, like tonight, also for weddings, graduations, things like that."
"Weddings, whose weddings?" Mary Beth asked.
"Ask me that question some other time. Violet, shouldn't you be getting into character about now. A single munchkin should be terrified going down a hall like this."
She was right of course. As the next torch ignited, I scurried around the back of Mary Beth, hiding behind her from the light of the torch. The next torch came on and I scurried back around to her other side. That’s how it went as we made our way down the hall, torches coming on and me scurrying back and forth trying to escape them. As we approached the end of the hall two torches came on, one on each end of a coffin, which then started to open revealing a skeleton that was sitting up. Thinking that I needed a better hiding place I darted up next to Bell, her dress was fuller and thereby provided a better hiding place.
“Easy there Violet, I’ll be very upset if you pulled my dress off,” Kimberly said with a giggle. “I think this hall is a bit scary for someone like you.”
Suddenly, two torches next to me ignited and another coffin was revealed. With few options, I ran around to the other side of The Brute. Looking up, I screamed and ran back to be hugged by Mary Beth, as she knelt down to catch me in her arms.
“Easy now my jittery munchkin, nothing here will hurt you. Just relax and stay with me, Dorothy will take care of you, like I have for years.”
‘I think The Brute was laughing at me, but I wasn’t sure, I know that Kimberly was giggling at the way I ran around acting scared. I have to admit that this is really lots of fun, pretending to be scared. The only time I’ve ever been really scared was when dad was mad at me because I was wearing pink underwear. Gee, that seems like such a long time ago, so many things have happened since then. If Dad could only see me now, dressed as a darling little munchkin and going to the Halloween Ball. On second thought, I’m glad that Dad’s not here and if I have anything to say about it, I’ll never see dear old Dad again.’ … ‘Now that is an evil little thought, I wonder where it came from? I’m not sure, but it’s something to think about, what would Bart look like in a cute pink ruffled dress?’
While I was lost in thought, Mary Beth guided me to the end of the hall and the double doors that automatically opened, revealing the brightly lit Ballroom. I was momentarily blinded due to the contrast in lighting. As my vision came back, I took a quick look around, old habits die hard.
Just inside the door, where Miss Adams desk once stood, was a reception table. Standing behind the reception table stood Professor Albus Dumbledore, well at least someone wearing a costume that resembled Dumbledore. My guess was that it was Mr. Peterson; you know Principal of one school, Headmaster of another. In the corner opposite the reception table, a small stage had been erected and ... well I guess it was the Cantina band from 'Star Wars' that was playing. The randomly spaced chairs had become a continuous row of chairs down both long walls of the ballroom. At the far end of the room they’d set up about eight tables for sitting at while eating. Finally against the far wall were the buffet tables. When Miss Adams was teaching me to walk, stand and sit, this room seemed huge. With all the students and some of the staff in here, it seems very small.
“Welcome my young friends,” Dumbledore welcomed us, with his deep British accent. “Would you please step forward to sign our guest register, also please fill out a nametag. We do want everyone to know who you are, don’t we? Please use your character’s name.”
As we approached the table, I hid behind Mary Beth.
“Welcome young lady,” Dumbledore addressed Mary Beth. Peaking over her shoulder, he winked at me. “Who is your small friend?”
I tugged on Mary Beth’s sleeve, she bent down and I whispered in her ear.
“This is my friend Violet,” Dorothy explained. “She’s a munchkin and right now she’s a little nervous. She wants to know if you are a good witch or a bad witch.”
Dumbledore laughed before answering, “First off, I’m a wizard not a witch. Secondly, I’m a very good wizard, and third I recognized her immediately as a munchkin. However, it has been some time since I’ve been to see my friend the Wizard of Oz.” He then turned to address Mary Beth. “Do keep a close eye on her; there are a few … evil spirits out tonight. Also be mindful of our cook; someone that small might end up on tomorrows menu.”
“Oh good wizard, you are joking, aren’t you?” I asked timidly.
“About the cook? Of course, I’m joking. He only goes after small creatures with four legs. About the evil spirits, well … one never knows about them.”
“Kind wizard,” Mary Beth asked, “can we call on you if we need help driving away the evil spirits?”
“Of course young one,” he reached into the pocked of his robe and handed Dorothy a small capsule. “Take this, if you need me, place this on the floor and crush it with your shoe. It will produce a small cloud of harmless white smoke.”
“Oh thank you,” she said, taking the capsule and carefully placing it in her pocket. We wrote our character names on nametags and stuck them on, then we registered ourselves on the PDA that was provided, costume / character name, and student name. I was the last to enter my data, as I set the PDA back on the table it beeped six times, Dumbledore then picked it up and placed it in his pocket.
We said so long to Bell and The Brute. Mary Beth and I tried to make our way to the buffet table, after all that running around I needed a drink. We were also looking for the others from year A. We didn’t notice that Dumbledore had moved, until the band stopped playing and he thumped his staff on the stage three times to get everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, spooks and goblins, creatures mortal and immortal, from Earth and from across the universe, I bid you welcome to our Halloween Ball. Now that all of our students are here along with a few special guests, I want to remind everyone that the costume voting will conclude promptly at 8:30. As usual, the categories are listed on your PDA’s, this year we have add an additional contest, a matching game, match the character with the student. The awards will be presented at 10:00. Everyone, have fun.”
I pulled out my PDA to look at the categories when I noticed someone talking with Dumbledore; I believe it was Frankenstein’s Monster. Where that in itself wasn’t odd, the fact that he was pointing at me, was just a bit peculiar and made me just a little nervous.
We managed to make our way through the mass of … humanity, knowing that underneath the assorted costumes everyone here was human, I think. I noticed several year A students at one of the tables and planned to join them after getting a drink. On one end of the buffet tables were three large punch bowls, each had a different color liquid, all three were bubbling and had layer of fog on top, overflowing onto the table below. Giving the labels on the plaques in front of each, and knowing the file I found earlier, I thought some fun could be had.
I looked at Mary Beth, and she looked at me, “You first,” she told me.
“But I thought you were the adventurous one,” I shot back.
“Where’s Jeffery when you need him?” she said, shaking her head.
“Are you telling me that you would use your little brother as your food tester?”
She just looked at me, smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. Oh well, I guess its up to me, what’s the line from Wrath of Khan … oh yes ‘For everything there is a first time’. I picked up a cup and the dipper from the bowl with the brown liquid, the label read ‘Scottish Bog’. Boldly filling my cup, I blew away the mist and cautiously sniffed at it. It smelled sweet and almost recognizable, so I slowly brought the cup to my lips and I took a sip.
Mary Beth was watching this process carefully, holding her breath. I started giggling and she looked like she was going to pop.
“As I suspected, its root beer,” I giggled.
As Dorothy started to fill her cup I heard laughing, I’d forgotten about the others. Turning I confirmed my suspicion, they were laughing at us. I nudged Mary Beth, indicating that we were the current center of amusement. We both started laughing as we went to join our friends.
"So, what's so funny?" Mary Beth asked, as we sat down.
"Just the game you two played, selecting your drink," Tina giggled.
"With the names underneath, we weren't quite sure what to expect," Mary Beth confessed.
"If you two are feeling a little adventurous, you should try the Blood Wine," Peggy teased.
"Or perhaps the Vampires Blood," added Misa. "I hear it's very good."
"We weren't that amusing, were we?" I quizzed.
"To be honest ... no. Year C laughed at us a lot more, than we laughed at you. So I guess we provided better entertainment," Barb conceded.
"Well, I may be the smallest one here, but at least now I know that I’m not the funniest. Have any of you been gutsy enough to try the food yet?"
"Well, according to the guys in the goofy red and black uniforms, the Gagh isn't very good, they were complaining about it being dead and actually cooked. They did say that the Blood Pie was very good," Morgan informed us.
Looking around I quickly discovered who Morgan was referring to. It seems we have a small contingent of Star Fleet officers attending. Morgan is definitely not on the trekkie roster.
It was about that time that someone came up behind me, squeezing my shoulders. “Ah, Mademoiselle, um … Violet, it is a pleasure do see you again. Pear’aps, after you ave had your dinnair you would accept an invitation, and do me zhe onair of dancing with me.”
I recognized the voice instantly; looking at the nametag, ‘Claude Monet’, and costume, a long and very scruffy beard with mustache, a beret and a shirt with billowy sleeves; I was momentarily confused. “Monsieur Monett’ I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”
“Mademoiselle, ave I changed so much since we last danced zhe afternoon away. By zhe way, it is pronounced Monaa’.”
“Ah, that would be Monet the artist; yes I remember dancing with you, let’s see that was the summer of 1900 wasn’t it?” I teasingly giggled.
“Wee, it was a small place in zhe north of France. Zhere was a beautiful view of zhe English Channel; we danced until you add do go ome with your beautiful mother.”
“And you my dear Claude, still, have a silver tongue. Of course, I’ll dance with you, but you will permit some time for me to dine before you wear out my little toes,” I giggled.
“As you wish Mademoiselle, I will look for you at zhirty minutes past zhe hour of nine, and we will dance until zhe awards are announced,” with that he bowed and kissed my hand before he left.
“Who was that?” Tina asked.
I smiled at her as I started tapping keys on my PDA.
“Well, who is it?” asked Misa.
“Ask me that question again, after the awards are announced. Right now, I’m trying to remember which costume everyone is wearing. I’ve talked with so many people over the last three days, most of them told me what they intended to be wearing. If I can remember everything then I’ll get an award from something besides ‘The Easiest to Recognize’,” I giggled.
“Did you know they were going to have this contest?” Peggy asked.
“I wouldn’t have told everyone what I planned on wearing if I had known,” Deanna complained.
“We didn’t know anything about it,” Mary Beth proclaimed. “We just thought it would be a fun little secret for a couple of days.”
“Of course we didn’t know,” I added. I was starting to feel just a little guilty, as if I was betraying the others in our year by not helping them. “The first we heard about it was when Mr. P … um, Dumbledore announced it. If you really want me to …”
“Hold it, hold it,” interrupted Misa. “First off, this isn’t a team competition, so you guys lay off.” Then she put her arm around me. “Secondly, if anyone had a question about this Munchkin being part of the Black Sheep, it has just been answered.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
"You were willingly going to share the information you have with everyone here. That's called 'self sacrifice', giving of yourself for the benefit of others," Misa explained.
“Matilda, when the rest of us started here, it took most of us several weeks before we started trusting our study partner,” Barb started. “It was several months before we started to care about anyone, besides ourselves.”
“You and Mary Beth are so far ahead of us, when it comes to caring for one another and acting as a team, it’s almost embarrassing,” Morgan added.
No one spoke for several moments before Tina quietly asked, “You wouldn’t like to share your other secret, would you?”
“What secret?” I asked.
“Getting Mr. Peterson to be nice to you, according to the grape vine, he talked with the two of you today before lunch,” Barb said softly.
“Yea, the only time he’s talked with us is the first day when he welcomed us here,” Tina added. "Well, if you don’t count the number of times we’ve been in trouble for something.”
I looked at Mary Beth and she looked at me. We both knew we couldn’t discuss most of the conversation that we’d had with Mr. Peterson.
‘I wonder how they heard that Mr. Peterson had talked with us. There wasn’t anyone else in the cafeteria while we were talking. I guess it’s possible that someone saw us through one of the doors, but who? Why would anyone care about us talking with Mr. Peterson … ?’
“Hee, hee, hee, hee, there you are my fine little pretty,” cackled a Wicked Witch. Going back into munchkin mode, I screamed and slid off my chair and under the table, scooting as far away from the witch as I could. It’s a good thing I’m small or that maneuver wouldn’t have worked very well. “What did you do my little pretty, trade in your mongrel dog for a cowardly little munchkin? Not a very good trade, I’d say. There’s too many people here for me to deal with you as I’d like. Don’t worry, I’ll catch up with you later my dear, you and your mongrel munchkin. Mongrel munchkin that’s a good one, eeeiah haw, haw, haw.” With that, she disappeared into the group of students.
“It’s all right Violet, she’s gone. You can come out now,” Mary Beth assured me, bending over to offer me a hand and a smile.
“How’d I do?” I whispered. She responded with a smile and a wink.
“What on earth was that all about?” Morgan asked.
“What was all what, about?” Mary Beth asked, as I was hugging her arm and looking around to see if it was safe. I caught sight of the Frankenstein’s Monster halfway across the room; he was looking at me oddly. I think he was smiling.
“What was the screaming and hiding under the table about?” Barb asked.
“Oh that … nothing really, Violet is after all a munchkin. As you know, munchkins are afraid of Wicked Witches, sudden surprises, and just about anything that's scary.” Mary Beth explained.
“Well, I grant you that Deborah’s witch costume is a bit realistic, it isn’t really that scary,” Morgan stated.
Just then Jenny appeared, as if out of nowhere, “I heard a scream, is everything alright?”
“Our little munchkin was scared by Deborah’s witch costume,” Misa explained.
Misa moved and Jenny sat next to me, holding out her arms to me. I looked up at Dorothy and she nodded so I moved over to Jenny. I felt a calming affect as she put her arms around me. A few moments later she dropped her head and whispered in my ear, “I see you weren’t really scared, were you?”
I ever so slightly shook my head.
“Is it something you care to talk with me about?” Jenny asked.
Again, I shook my head.
“I understand. If I can help you, you will let me know?”
I smiled and nodded. Jenny released me and I went back to the chair I’d previously occupied.
“Well now,” Jenny addressed all those around, “who is ready for dinner?”
Jenny’s question seemed to have shocked everyone. They sat for a few moments, as if stunned.
‘I suppose they were expecting more information, or an explanation, more something?’
Eventually the others got up to get their dinner. I asked Jenny if we could talk for a minute. Mary Beth asked if I wanted her to stay. I told her to go ahead and get her dinner; we'd be along in a couple of minutes.
"Jenny, can you tell me a little more about your rather unique ability."
"Sure, what do you want to know?"
"Well, just what is it you do? I mean, do you read minds?'
"Oh no, nothing like that. I can somehow sense others feelings. Kind of like how some animals can sense fear."
"So can you sense what I'm feeling now?" I was becoming a little nervous.
"Oh no! It doesn't work like that. I have to clear my mind so I'm more open and receptive. I also have to physically touch the person."
"But earlier today, in the lounge, you seemed to be somehow ... oh I don't know ... reading me. Everything you said was correct."
"It was? Well what do you know about that! As I was talking, I felt your emotions changing rapidly. I sort-of ... put words to what I was sensing. No one has ever come back and told me that I've read them accurately."
"Hum ... that's interesting. Jenny, there's one other thing; when you put your arms around me I felt something. Is there something that you do? Something you can control?"
"What?" Jenny was surprised by my question. "I didn't do anything different. What did you feel?"
"I'm not real sure; it was more of a feeling that came over me, something that helped me to feel calm and relaxed."
"That’s what I sensed, you were calm and relaxed, so I guessed you weren't scared. Matilda, how did you feel before I hugged you?"
"Well, I guess I was nervous and a little scared, there was someone watching me, watching how I reacted to Deborah's witch costume."
"Who was watching you?"
'Oops, I think I may have said too much. I can't tell her about the talk I had with Mr. Peterson. I really don't think I should tell her about someone in the Frankenstein’s Monster costume that has been watching me and talking with Dumbledore. How am I going to get out of this one?'
Just then, the others started coming back to the table. 'Saved by the dinner bell.' "Jenny, Lets go get our dinner." As Jenny and I left the table, most of year A was sitting around the same, long, banquet table.
Something I thought odd; they took a long time at the buffet tables, but came back with very little on their plates. Dinner was … shall we say, unusual. The posted names for each item were uniquely descriptive of things one might find in a dungeon, though not necessarily from the planet Earth. When I took a careful look at the buffet, along with the names associated with each selection, I had to chuckle. Being that I’ve always been adventurous when it comes to different foods, and realizing that they wouldn't serve anything dangerous; Along with the fact that while I was browsing the schools network I ran across the menu for tonight's buffet. There was also a request for me to keep the information to myself, so I thought I’d try a little of everything and see what kind of reaction I'd get.
"What on earth are you doing?" Misa asked, as I set down my plate along with a cup of soup.
I smiled sarcastically, as I shrugged my shoulders, "Preparing to enjoy my dinner."
"Someone better get in touch with Ellen, Matilda is trying to commit suicide, via food poisoning," Deanna exclaimed.
“Oh come on you guys, nothing here can be dangerous,” I replied.
“I don’t know about that. You start mixing those, those … THINGS together in your stomach and who knows what sort of chemical reaction you're going to get,” Barb cautioned.
"Oh come on, enough with the heckling already. They just dressed everything up a bit and gave them strange names so they would look different for Halloween," I stated, hoping I hadn't said too much.
"Different is right," Mary Beth agreed, as she examined my selections. "What is that slimy looking red stuff?"
"What, you mean the Small Intestine Surprise?" I asked as I stuck in my fork, bringing a small portion to my nose. "It doesn't smell bad; in fact it smells like ... mayonnaise." Cautiously I sampled, "Yep, mayonnaise, macaroni, there's something else ... I can't quite make out." After consuming a second fork full, I figured it out. "That's it, the flavor I couldn't make out before is shrimp. It’s Macaroni salad with shrimp."
"But why's it red?" she asked.
"They probably just added some food coloring."
"All right, but what about that huge green ... thing," Peggy asked, making a face that showed her disgust at the thought of eating something like that.
Changing my focus, I picked up the Baked Alligator Tongue, I held it out towards Peggy. "Is this what you're talking about?"
"EEEW YES!" Peggy squealed. "Why would you even consider eaten something that looks like that?"
I giggled as I took a butter knife and started cutting it in half. "EEEW, YUCK!" I heard from different directions. As I finished cutting the alligator tongue, I spread a blue substance, which tasted like mayonnaise, on each half then add some slices of the Rigellian Blood Worms, along with some of the Terellian pheasant. Placing the top half of the tongue, on top of everything else, I prepared to take a bite. This brought more screaming and squeals from my friends.
I smiled, as I was enjoying my rather un-earthly sub sandwich. "I usually add Swiss cheese to my Ham and Turkey sandwiches, but couldn't find any."
"Sandwich?"
"Ham?"
“Turkey?”
I started laughing, as did most of the crowd of older students that had gathered, due to the squeals from the others.
"Of course a sandwich," someone called loudly, from somewhere behind me.
"You do know what a sandwich is, don't you?" someone from a different part the crowd called out.
"So you're telling us that green stuff is some kind of bread?" Tina asked.
"Actually, it’s a hoagie bun," I told her.
"Well, what about the other stuff, the 'Gagh' and the 'Barf'?" Barbara asked.
"French Fries," someone called out.
"And the barf is chili," someone else answered.
"What about the Baked Horta, the cream of baby octopus, and the diced brains?"
I replied before anyone else, "Roast Beef, Clam Chowder, and Cauliflower. I'm surprised at you guys, none of you had a problem with the drinks, but you did with the food."
"Someone told us what the drinks were," Walter confessed.
"Matilda, how did you know what everything was?" Morgan asked.
With half the school’s student body standing around, I was rather reluctant to admit to having penetrated the schools computer system. All I could manage was to stutter, “Well, I … um, I just …”
"Mademoiselle Matilda, you did not do vhat I zhink you did, … did you?" Joseph asked from behind me, sounding shocked that I might have done what he suspected.
"Matilda, how did you know about the food?" Jenny asked after I didn't reply to Joseph. Then taking my hand she asked, "What exactly did you do?"
"I … I … I didn't do nothing," I replied timidly, worried about what might happen if everyone knew about all of my network activities.
"Zhat means zhat you did somezhing. You must vatch your use of zhe double negatives,” Joseph explained. Dropping the character of Joseph, Beca addressed me once again as my big sister. “Now Matilda, it's time to tell the truth. Did you do what I think you did?"
"Yes I … I guess I did" I mumbled with a sigh.
"Oh my goodness, I thought they were exaggerating when they told me never to leave you alone during your girl 101 and 102 training."
"Matilda, now we all know you did something, what I want to know is what did you do?” Aaron commanded. “The sooner you tell us, the sooner we can eat."
"I found the information on one of the servers," I shyly confessed. "Well, that is ... this afternoon while I was in the schools network, I found the menu along with the cross reference that explained what the actual foods were."
"And you did not think that this information would be of benefit to the rest of us?" Jenny asked. I could tell that she felt betrayed, from the tone of her voice.
"I'm sorry, but attached to the menu there was a note, addressed to me personally. It requested that I not share that information with anyone."
"Yea, it’s about time the hecklers were on the receiving end," someone in the crowd called out, followed by cheers and applause from the surrounding crowd.
"That will be enough!" Dumbledore called out loudly as he made his way through the crowd. "I thought this school had put an end to these childish pranks months ago. I see that another example might be required. Matilda, you say there was a note requesting your silence. Was the note signed?"
I got out my PDA to show Dumbledore the note. "Yes it was! That's why I did as it asked. But with everything that’s just happened, I don't think Mr. Peterson wrote the note." As I worked my way back into the menu for tonight's buffet, I noticed that the crowd surrounding our table had all but disappeared. I was just a little surprised to find the item at the bottom of the menu, 'Matilda - read this', had been removed.
"Hmm, the link to the actual note has been removed. I'm sorry but I didn't pay attention to where the link pointed."
"That's all right my dear, we have ways of finding the information we want. I believe you are to attend your French lesson tomorrow from 10:00 until 11:30. Please see RJ immediately after your French lesson." Dumbledore then turned around and disappeared.
"I guess the joke is on us, this time," SueAnn moaned.
"Yes, but the good news is that it wasn't because of something we did, so we're not going to suffer the consequences," George added.
"Well, now that we know the food isn't going to kill us, who's hungry?" Aaron asked. There was a momentary pause before everyone started to leave the table to get some dinner. As they were returning, I was pleased to see food on their plates.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized to everyone, again, “there really was a note asking me not to say anything.”
“Of course, there was a note,” Misa said offering her support.
"Matilda, we've only known you for a few days," Aaron explained, "but in that short amount of time we've come to know and trust you."
"The only thing to do now is help RJ find out who wrote the note. Mr. Peterson will take care of the rest," Abigail added.
"But, why me? I mean there must be other students here that are better at computers than I am," I timidly asked.
"Matilda, my specialty is Computer Systems," Aaron started explaining, "George's specialty is Network Systems. We have special classes, along with the specialists from the other years, which teach us about those systems. To my knowledge, nobody has done what you’ve done. Nobody has ever cracked the system using a PDA."
I stared at Aaron, for what seemed the longest time, not knowing what to say. Eventually, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Mary Beth smiling at me. It took a lot of effort on my part to not start crying.
"I need some desert," I mumbled, as I pushed my chair back and headed for the buffet. I didn't care about any desert, I just needed to get away. I stood in front of the deserts, an empty plate in my hands, and started softly crying.
'What is it about me? Why do I do things that others can't? How do I do the things I do? Why can't I just be like everyone else? And … do I really want answers to these questions?'
After a while, I felt some hands on my shoulders. I wasn't sure I wanted to see anyone right then, a few more moments passed before I turned my head to see Kimberley's smiling face. "Well now, my little Munchkin, you've had an eventful evening."
I nodded, as I wiped my eyes and nose.
"Why don't you come with me and I'll fix your makeup."
I looked back towards the table, seeing Mary Beth's smiling face and her nodding, I accepted Kimberley's offer and we silently made a discreet exit and went into the nearest restroom.
"Feeling better?" Kimberley asked, as I emerged from a stall.
I shrugged my shoulders ... eventually giving a little nod.
"So tell me, what happened to cause all these tears?" she asked, as she knelt down to redo my face.
"Well ... um ... I don't know if I can talk about it with you?"
"Really? If you'd like, I can arrange for Ellen to come see you."
"I don't even know if I can talk with her about everything that's been going on," I sadly replied.
"Well now, if you can't talk to your psychiatrist, just who do you think you can talk to?"
"I'd like to talk with Mr. Peterson, ask him some questions, but the last time he talked with Mary Beth and me we were both confused. Wait a second, how did you know that Ellen is my psychiatrist?"
"Let’s just say that I know a little bit more about Immigration Manor than most of the students here. It was Mr. Peterson who asked me to help you and Mary Beth with your makeup. He also asked me to keep an eye on you tonight."
"Now I'm more confused than I was earlier today."
"Matilda, don't let a little confusion upset you. Believe me; I know exactly how you feel. I had, pretty much the same thing happen to me when I started here, six years ago."
I almost couldn't believe what my ears had just told me.
'What is it that really goes on here? Who really runs this school? Why did they organize a school for children like me? Is there something special about having Gender Dysphoria that makes us a threat to normal schools? Maybe having Gender Dysphoria makes us smarter than most children our age. I wonder if that's why they built a school like this, to help us grow and develop to our full potential. I wonder what will happen to us after we graduate? So many questions, so many new puzzle pieces. If only I could put them on paper, then perhaps Rachael could help me put this puzzle together. If Kimberley has been through the same things, perhaps she is someone I can talk to about what's been going on; about ...'
"There you are Violet, good as new. You're obviously feeling better, shall we go back in?" Kimberley smiled, as she finished my makeup for the second time.
I replied, in my sweetest little munchkin voice, "Thank you so very much Miss Bell. I'm sure the great Wizard of Oz will reward you for your kindness." We both giggled at that.
"That's my little munchkin, back into character. I know that someone is expecting to see a Munchkin, not a little girl."
I looked into Kimberley's eyes;
'Oh good heavens, enough already, what is this munchkin thing all about. Can't I just hide in the restroom until tonight is over? I suppose not.’
“Aren’t the other students going to think I’m crazy? You know acting like a munchkin, not just someone that’s dressed as one for a Halloween party.”
“Well, some from year A might think it’s a little odd. Everyone else has learned over the years, not to ask too many questions. There’s always something strange going on around here.”
I took a deep breath and smiled, "Oh Miss Bell, thank you so much for helping me. Glenda will be so pleased that you are looking out for one of her Munchkins."
Just before we went through the door, Kimberley stopped, knelt down, and whispered in my ear, "Matilda, if things get out of hand, if anything happens to make you uncomfortable or scared, you can come to me or go to Dumbledore. I'll try to stay close by, in case you need me, understand?"
"Thank you, I think I understand," I smiled and gently hugged her. Then we went back in.
Mary Beth was still sitting at the table, as we entered the ballroom; she smiled as our eyes met. She got up and met us halfway, "Feeling better?"
"I’ll see you later, Violet," Kimberley said, as she patted my shoulder. "Dorothy, you take good care of our little munchkin."
"You bet I will," Mary Beth answered with a smile, gently taking hold of my arm.
"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Bell," I tried to curtsey, no easy task with Mary Beth holding on to my arm.
"Well now Violet, should we get us some desert? You were somewhat distracted earlier."
"Oh yes, thank you Miss Dorothy. That will be very nice," I giggle, staying in character.
The rest of the evening went very well. Mary Beth and I had lots of fun talking with everyone, well everyone that appeared friendly that is, we also danced a little. Someone got the band to play 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' so naturally we sang along, as we danced around the floor, weaving in and out around the different groups of students. By the time the song finished, we had about a third of the school singing and dancing with us.
We took some time to cast our votes for the best costume and the other categories. As for the matching contest; I did my best, but I really didn't think I did very well, considering I'd only been there three days.
About 9:30 Claude Monet appeared, reminding me of our date.
'Wait a minute, I'm only ten. That's way too young to be dating. On the other hand, this is a school dance, so it’s not really a date. After all, it’s only Joseph dressed as Claude Monet, which is really Beca, dressed as Joseph, dressed as Claude Monet. Uh, oh, I think I'm starting to confuse myself again!'
We danced for a while, talking about nothing in particular, how I was getting on with the others in year A? How I liked the school? How did I get into the schools network, with an out dated PDA?
"What do you mean, out dated?" I asked.
"Vell, you did start about five months into zhe school year, vhich vas unexpected. Zhey updated all zhe PDA'S about zhis time last year. You and Mary Beth were issued two of zhe old model PDA'S. RJ is zhe only one who can register zhe newer PDA'S on zhe network, vhich he did last June for all zhe new students."
"I don't know if I should feel upset about this or not," I teased.
"Vhat ever do you mean?"
"I don't mean anything," I giggled. "I'm teasing you again."
"Oh, Mademoiselle Violet, you are such zhe kidder. After everyzhing zhat aas aappened do you and you can still make vith zhe jokes. Vhat ever shall ve do vith you?"
I stood there, looking into the eyes of my mentor, my teacher, and my friend. A single tear formed in the corner of each eye as I remembered everything we've been through together. A single, three word, sentence was all that came to mind, all I could utter, "A hug works."
Beca smiled and held out her arms. We were hugging as friends do. We were suddenly interrupted by the sound of Dumbledore's staff striking the stage, three times, calling for everyone’s attention.
"Gather round everyone, gather round. Time has come to announce the winners of the costume competition, but first, I have an announcement and a complement. The complement is to you all. You've all done an excellent job with your costumes, the staff, as well as myself, are pleased with all of you. Now for the announcement; the first night of our stay in Quebec, there is a Masquerade Ball, and we have been invited to attend this event. We have, naturally, accepted this invitation. This, of course, means that each of you will need to retain your costumes, so you'll have them when it comes time to pack for the trip. Now, this isn't a Halloween Ball, so those of you with the more ghoulish costumes, may wish to consider selecting something different. If any of you have questions or concerns, you are invited to contact Mr. Peterson; I believe he has something to do with this school."
The last statement brought forth lots of chuckling, as well as a few silly comments.
Raising his hand, calling the assembly to order, "Quiet please, quiet now, so that we may continue ... Thank you. To present our first awards, we have some special guests, please welcome Joan of Arc and Albert Einstein."
The background chatter instantly stopped. All eyes were focused on Dumbledore, waiting for a confirmation of what they'd just heard. I got out my PDA, checking again the list of registered guests, confirming that I hadn't seen either of those names on the guest list. Of course, that only means that they weren't participating in the contests.
As everyone moved a little closer to the stage, Kimberley showed up next to me; for some yet to be discovered reason. Being that she was there, I thought I'd take advantage of the situation. I tugged on her sleeve and motioned for her to lean down, whispering I asked, "Who are they?"
"I'm not sure, although nobody has used those characters since Shelly and Rod left two years ago. They used those costumes, four years in a row."
"Who are Shelly and Rod?"
"They were the year leaders of their year. No one has heard from them since they graduated two years ago. I wonder why they were invited to be here. I’ve only seen students return once before, that was just before a field trip," Kimberly rambled, as she again stood erect.
'I wonder indeed? What I wonder is, does their being here have anything to do with the conversation Mary Beth and I DIDN'T have with Mr. Peterson, and the plans that someone has for an innocent little Munchkin. I guess I’d better stay in character.'
"Welcome back my friends, welcome back," Dumbledore exclaimed as they entered through a door I hadn't noticed before. "It's certainly a pleasure to see you both again."
Joan hugged Dumbledore and spoke in French. Dumbledore and Albert shook hands, as old friends would, as he spoke in German. “Welcome my friends, but you do remember the old saying ‘When in Rome …’. This is America, if you wouldn’t mind, English please.”
“As you wish Professor, it is indeed a pleasure to return here and see you all again,” Albert smiled.
”Yes indeed, it gives one a genuinely warm feeling to be among old friends,” Joan agreed.
"Thank you, both, for joining us this evening. Shall we push on?" Dumbledore asked, as he offered a PDA to Albert. Joan, being a little faster, snatched it out of Dumbledore's hand. She turned to Albert, while giggling said something in French.
"Of course my dear, if you really want to. You know, I can't deny you the things that make you happy," Albert told Joan. “It seems we have another divergence from tradition. It appears that Joan wishes to do a little mingling this evening, so instead of calling out names, Joan is going to wonder among you and invite several of you to join us on stage. After she has everyone on stage, we'll tell you why each one is here." Turning to Joan, "I recommend only three or four at a time, this is a small stage."
As Joan left the stage, I felt a little uneasy for some reason. I slowly rotated to see if I could determine the reason for my uneasy feelings. To my left was Mary Beth, behind her were two Star Fleet officers - one Admiral and one Captain. Kimberley was on my right with The Brute behind her. As I continued to scan the crowd, I noticed Frankenstein’s Monster by the registration table. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw the top of a witches hat halfway down the room, in the other direction. I wasn't sure if that was why I felt uneasy, but at the time, it was all I saw.
In the meantime, Joan was making her way around the room, sending people to the stage. She smiled at me and even patted my head as she passed by. Soon she'd collected The Brute, Mary Poppins, Dracula, and Lady Godiva.
"Well my dear," Albert commented, as Joan returned to the stage, "this is quite the assortment of, um, guests. Would you like to explain why you selected each one?"
"Oh but of course, and in keeping vith proper etiquette, ve will start with zhe ladies." Moving to stand next to Lady Godiva. "Here ve have Lady Godiva, vife of zhe Earl of Mercia, she rode naked to free zhe people of Coventry England of zhe oppressive zaxes imposed by aer uusband. According zo our records zhis is zhe first time zhat Lady Godiva aas appeared at one of our Halloween festivities. Zherefore zhe award for zhe most original costume goes to Suzanne."
Suzanne bows, discretely, keeping her hair in place, to a round of applause. Joan gave Suzanne a hug of congratulations, before she left the stage.
"Our next award, 'Zhe Hardest to Recognize Student,' or zhe 'I have no clue hoo zhat is!' award. May I present Zhe Brute, from Rura Penthe, and zhe lovely lady receiving zhis award, Angelina, although she doesn't look much like an Angel zonight."
Angel reached up with both hands and removes a rubber mask, revealing her identity, while everyone applauded.
"So much for zhe ladies of zhis group," Joan continued. "Our next award goes to a young man who enjoys freely moving from Mars to Venus and back. A master, or is it zhe mistress, at zhe art of being someone you are not. I present Darryl, zhis years winner of zhe 'Best fictional character,' as Mary Poppins."
Darryl curtsied and blew kisses to everyone as he left the stage.
"Vhat Halloween party would be complete vithout an appearance from zhe prince of darkness, Dracula. Zhis years award for zhe 'Easiest do recognize character' is Grant."
'I'm not sure how Grant did it but his eyes were actually glowing red.' Remembering that I should act as a munchkin, I squealed and hid behind Kimberley, as Dracula passed by.
"Well now," Albert addressed Joan, as the applause died down, "you seem to have run out of recipients."
"Oow did zhat aappen? Zhings were going so vell, zhen suddenly zhey vere gone," Joan sadly replied.
"Well my dear, are there anymore awards to be made?"
"Oh yes indeed, lots more. Vould you like zhe honor of making zhe invitations, or shall I continue?" Joan asked, however she made no indication that she was willing to release control of the PDA. She didn't even wait for Albert to reply, before she hopped of the stage and disappeared.
Chuckling Albert replied, "Obviously you're having too much fun presenting the invitations, please continue."
Moments later, selected individuals started making there way towards the stage. The first to arrive was a creature that I vaguely remember, but just couldn't quite place. From the circular mouth opening with fangs, to the three appendages with suction cups on each hand, I knew that as a munchkin, I should stay as far away from that creature as I could. The creature was followed by Abraham Lincoln, a Samurai with a sword, and a Musketeer with a foil. Even though, as Matilda, I knew that the Samurai was really Misa, being that she and the Musketeer were armed, as a munchkin I started backing away from the stage trying to hide behind Mary Beth and Kimberley.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Joan appeared. Kneeling in front of me, smiling, "Aave I zhe pleasure of addressing Violet zhe munchkin?"
"Yes Miss Joan. My name is Violet," I timidly replied.
"Ah good, I aave been looking all over zhe place for you. You are zhe last one on my list. Would you like do come with me? Up, on zhe stage." She held out her hand.
"You want me to go up there? To be captured by the servants of a Wicked Witch and that monster!” I threw both arms around Mary Beth, “Please help me Miss Dorothy! Don’t let her take me away. I’ve heard of the terrible things that the Wicked Witches do to little munchkins. Please protect me!” By now, everyone was watching what was happening, although not everyone realized that I had been indirectly instructed to act this way.
“Oh come now, zhey are not servants of zhe Wicked Witch. Zhey are just dressed in costumes, zhe same as you and me,” Joan said as she took my hand and started pulling me toward the stage.
“No, no, help me Miss Bell. Help me Miss Dorothy,” I cried.
“Joan,” Kimberly said as she put her hand on Joan’s arm, “Why don’t you leave this one for later?”
I suddenly remembered the capsule that Dumbledore had given Mary Beth. I grabbed her hand and patted the pocket of her dress, so she would feel the capsule. Mary Beth understood what I wanted, she took out the capsule, dropping it to the floor she stepped on it, crushing the plastic shell and exposing the contents to the atmosphere. It did produce a cloud of white smoke as Dumbledore had said, however, it wasn’t exactly a small cloud.
As the smoke cleared, everything was the same as it had been, with one exception. Dumbledore was now at my side. “Is there a problem, my young friend?” he asked, with a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh kind Wizard, please protect me,” I cried, as I pointed toward the stage.
“I understand my young friend. The Great Wizard of Oz would never forgive me if I let one of his munchkins be so easily taken. Joan, I’ll take care of this award. Please continue with the others.”
“As you vish Monsieur Dumbledore,” Joan smiled and winked at me, before she returned to the stage.
“What was all the excitement about, my dear,” Albert asked, as Joan remounted the stage.
“Oh nothing really. It seems zhat one of our award vinners doesn’t vant do be on stage.”
“Must be one huge case of stage fright. Shall we continue with these lucky winners?”
“But of course. Presenting zhe awards is so much fun. Zhis years award for zhe ‘Best Non-Fictional Character’ goes do Tommy and his very realistic portrayal of Abraham Lincoln.”
Tommy, in a very dignified manor, removed his tall hat and bowed to a round of applauses.
“Zhe next award is zhe ‘Hardest do Recognize Character’ or as everyone calls it, zhe ‘Vhat is Zhat?’ award. Zhis year it goes to Monsieur Zy Bickmore for his representation of zhe creature from zhe planet M-113, Zhe Salt Vampire.”
As Joan was making the announcement, Ty crept up behind her and was about to place the suction cups on either side of her face.
She ducked away just before he made contact. “Oh no you don’t! Please, someone, get zhe salt and feed zhis silly creature.”
Amid howls of laughter and applause, Ty took his bow and left the stage.
“Zhat leaves us vith zhese do very aansom costumes. Zhe award for zhe ‘Most Realistic Costume,’ zhis year both of zhese were awarded an equal number of votes. Ve congradulate Edward for his Musketeer, no doubt needed to protect Suzanne, and Misaki for her Samurai. Special honors zhis year are also awarded to Misaki, zhe first time someone from year A has been von this award.”
There were of course, applause for both Edward and Misa. Most of year A had gathered together for the awards, they really outdid themselves as they cheered for Misa.
Dumbledore, who stayed next to me, held out his hand to me, asking, “Would you please accompany me my young friend?”
I cautiously took his hand then looked up into his eyes, I smiled and nodded. We then made our way to the stage.
“Well my friends, thank you for coming to help us with this years awards. Your presence and unusual style have made the presentations very unique,” Dumbledore thanked Joan and Albert.
“It was our pleasure, dear friend,” Albert said as he shook hands with Dumbledore.
“Wee Monsieur Dumbledore, ve aave aad such fun, it vould be our pleasure do return again,” Joan exclaimed as she and Dumbledore hugged.
They were exiting to a round of applause when Joan stopped and whispered in my ear, in perfect English, “You make a very convincing Munchkin my dear. I look forward to seeing you in Quebec.”
’Well now, that answered about a dozen questions, which only left about four hundred for me to find the answers to. Yes, they are part of the plan, I still can’t talk to anyone about it … Hey wait a second, they changed the field trip after Mary Beth and I came here. Just a guess, but I wonder if they would be going to Quebec if I weren’t here. I seem to be a pivotal part of a much larger plan, apparently larger than I thought. I wish I weren’t stuck here; I need some time to wonder through the network and see if I can’t find some more answers. Later I guess.’
“Well now, it seems that there are several awards left to be presented,” Dumbledore stated. “I guess I’ll have to present the last few awards. Roberta, would you please come and join us. While she is on her way up, I’d like to present the last of our costume awards. I’m sure you all recognized this little Munchkin as our newest little bundle of mischief, Matilda, and this years winner of the ‘Easiest to Recognize Student’.” Dumbledore paused while everyone applauded, he however didn’t let go of my hand.
“Thank you for joining us Roberta. As you are all aware, this year we added a new contest. I am pleased to announce that Roberta is the winner, of our Match the Costume to the Wearer contest, with correctly matching eighty percent of the students and thirty percent of the staff.” He again paused for the applause and for Roberta to take her bow. “I have one more award to present. That is, in conjunction with our matching contest, I would like to present an ‘Honorable Mention’ to Matilda. Percentage wise, she had the most correct matches of forty students and five staff; this is when ratioed against the three days she’s been with us.” There goes year A again, are you sure that there are only eighteen of them; it sounds more like half the school. “Thank you, thank you … that will be enough. You have seventy-five minutes of merriment remaining before all the witches and goblins must disappear for another year. The kitchen staff has asked me to remind you that there is still, lots of food left, especially the bat wing surprise. Enjoy one and all, and good night to you all.”
Dumbledore, Roberta and I left the stage. Returning to where Mary Beth was standing he bid us both a goodnight.
“Well Mary Beth, I know I’m tired and ready for bed. You must be completely exhausted. Why don’t we go sit down for a few minutes before we go back to our rooms?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t want to stay until midnight. I’m very ready for this day to be over and get into bed,” Mary Beth confirmed as we made our way to a table.
“You get us a couple of seats and I’ll get us some Worms and Dirt, along with some Vampire Blood to wash it down with, unless you’d prefer the Blood Wine.”
“Matilda, you … are a nut. Just tell me what everything is, not the made up names.”
Giggling, “Okay, would you like fruit punch or black cherry soda with your Worms and Dirt?”
“Matilda!”
“What?”
“What’s with the Worms and Dirt?”
“But that’s what it’s called.”
“But what is it really?”
“Are you asking what they make worms and dirt out of?”
“All right, yes, what is Worms and Dirt made of?”
“The worms are … well, worms; to be precise they’re gummy worms. The dirt is a mixture of chocolate pudding with Oreo cookie crumbs mixed in. Mom used to buy it every year at Halloween. Kind of like Eggnog, you can only buy it around the Christmas holydays.”
“All right, I think I’d like fruit punch with my Worms and Dirt, thank you.”
“Coming right up dear friend,” I giggled as I went after our snack.
We were almost finished when several of the others from year A joined us.
“Way to go Munchkin,” Aaron congratulated.
“Yea, way to boost the image of the whole year,” George added.
“What are you guys talking about?” I asked.
“Well, between you and Misa, year A took almost thirty percent of the awards,” Em announced.
“Really?”
“Yes indeed,” Em confirmed.
“That,” Barb started, “combined with the incident about the food, earlier, …”
“Hey, I’m really sorry about that,” I apologized.
“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. What I was saying is that with everything combined, and us NOT being in trouble this time, you’ve done a lot to boost our reputation,” Barb finished.
“So no one’s upset at me?”
“No, course not” Hope replied, with a smile.
“Well that’s a switch. Usually Matilda is the one that’s in trouble,” Mary Beth teased.
“Nice jab Mary Beth,” I meekly replied, “but right now I’m too tired to do battle. Are you finished?”
“Yes, let’s start back. Anyone want to walk back to the dorm with us?” Mary Beth asked.
“Hey Munchkin, before you go can I ask you a question?” George asked. “What are bat wings?”
“Bats are small creatures, a little larger than mice. They have long leather like wings with tiny claws on the ends. They look like miniature pterodactyls, you know, the flying dinosaur.” I explained.
“I know what Bats are, what I want to know is what’s in the Bat Wing Surprise?”
“Oh, it’s Corn Beef Hash.”
“So what part of the bat do they use in the Bat Wing Surprise?”
“That’s the surprise … there are no bat wings in the Bat Wing Surprise.”
Everyone started laughing after I explained the surprise. Several of the others started back with us, taking a leisurely walk back to our rooms. Mary Beth was completely worn out; I had to drag her into my bathroom to remove her makeup. Then I undid her hair, unzipped her dress and sent her into her room to change. After getting myself cleaned and ready for bed, I went to check on my friend. I found her asleep on her bed. That is on her bed, not under the blankets. She had managed to change into some pajamas. I shook my head as I looked at her then at her dress in the middle of the floor. I managed to get the blankets out from under her without waking her. Then I hung up her dress, she’ll need it later. I accessed the school’s network and searched the system, using the keyword — Munchkin. The only result was a single entry, with the name Sally attached. I left the light in my bathroom on and the interconnecting door open. Finally, I crawled into bed behind Mary Beth; this was a switch because usually she’s laying behind me.
’What a day this has been, I don’t know how many more puzzle pieces I’ve collected, the number is growing faster than I can get them put together. Let’s see, in three days time I’ve discovered how to get into the schools network using a PDA, an obsolete PDA at that. Then there’s some plan that somehow pivots around me as a munchkin, and someone named Sally. Then there’s Jenny’s abilities, that somehow work better on me than anyone else. Did I leave anything out? Oh yea, there’s my knack for getting into trouble and somehow recruiting the entire year in helping Rachael when I only meant to recruit three. Really, what a day. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.’
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 5
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Where else can I hack into their network and not be in trouble?
But what's with Mr. Peterson?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 5
The next morning I was only slightly surprised to find that most of year A had slept in. In fact, the few that were in the lounge were the ones that left the ball with Mary Beth and I. We chatted for a little while, before going to breakfast, just to see if anyone else had recharged enough to crawl out of bed. As we walked, I told Mary Beth about my conversation with Kimberley, the night before. I guess I was moaning about everyone treating me as if I'm something special.
"But you are special, my friend," she smiled, and then she hugged me. "And the sooner you stop fighting with yourself and accept that fact, the sooner you'll be happy with yourself and the sooner you'll be able to enjoy everything life has to offer."
"Mary Beth, that's very profound. I've never heard you say anything with such deep meaning."
Mary Beth giggled before she responded, "I heard it some place, probably something I was watching on PBS."
I looked at her in surprise, then I started laughing, "Mary Beth, I’m surprised at you! I didn’t know you watched the educational TV programs on the Public Broadcasting channels." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at me.
I smiled back, "Come on, let’s get our breakfast." We hugged each other for another few seconds before we continued, giggling as we went.
As we approached the cafeteria, we could hear Mr. Peterson, saying something in French. However, when he noticed us he greeted us in English, "Good morning Mary Beth, you seem to be feeling better this morning. When is your next appointment with Dr. Harris?"
"I, ... I don't know … no one has told me anything about an appointment," Mary Beth sputtered, surprised by the question.
"Really?" Mr. Peterson appeared to be genuinely surprised. "I'll have a talk with him. You've been doing a lot of walking since you've arrived. I want to make sure we're not making your injury worse or increasing your recovery time." He paused for a moment, entering something into his PDA, before continuing. "And how's our Munchkin this morning?"
I giggled as I replied, "I'm doing very well this morning. At least I don’t have to run and hide every time something surprises me.”
Mr. Peterson chuckled in agreement, “I’m sure that is a relief to you. Still, you should practice from time to time; you never know when you’ll need to play the part of a Munchkin. Anyway, I'm pleased that the two of you decided to join us this morning. We're dispensing with our customary seating arrangements this morning; please take a seat at either of the first two tables."
I’m not sure what surprised me more; Mr. Peterson's comment about playing the part of a Munchkin, or the overall lack of attendance by the other years. There weren’t enough students to fill two tables, to say nothing of our usual six.
Mary Beth and I quickly got our breakfast. Yes, I chose some of the Bat Wing Surprise, left over from last nights buffet, along with some scrambled eggs and then I smothered everything with some country gravy.
After we took our seats, Mr. Peterson stood to make an announcement, "Greetings everyone, I'm pleased to see each of you this morning, although I'm disappointed in how few our numbers are. When I was a young Boy Scout, attending summer camp, they used to give out awards for just about everything. One of those was an award to those who were willing to get up before the crack of dawn, after staying up late the night before, and jump into what seemed to be a freezing lake. As you know, we don't give out awards or trophies in the physical sense, but so few of you made the effort to be here this morning that I feel you deserve something special. Therefore, this group will be the planning committee for the schools next field trip."
This announcement caused a momentary silence, followed be a barrage of excited questions.
"Hold on, hold on, let me explain," Mr. Peterson continued, with a chuckle. "First, I'm not talking about the upcoming trip to Quebec and Toronto; it will be the trip after that. Second, I don't know where we will be going, that will be decided after we return from Toronto. Third, what you will be planning will be the activities not related to travel plans or the concert itself. You’ll be at liberty to decide where we will eat, what sights we’ll see along the way, and any other social events that would be appropriate for a school of our high caliber. Once the location has been decided on, I'll send word to each of you so you'll be able to research the possibilities. I'll arrange a meeting, several weeks later, so we can get together and discuss the options. It should make the next field trip a little more exciting and meaningful for each of you. Enjoy your breakfast and have a good day."
Mr. Peterson sat down, but he didn't start eating right away. He spent several minutes looking around and entering data into his PDA, I assumed it was the names of everyone in attendance.
After breakfast, we had about forty-five minutes before our first French lesson. "Well Mary Beth, according to the schedule on our PDA's, we'll be in the same classroom where Miss Baker taught me to speak like a girl. Now, ten weeks later, I get to learn to speak 'Girl' in French."
We both giggled before Mary Beth asked, "So where is this classroom?"
"It's two flights up, down the hall and around the corner. Of course, if you make a wrong turn you would end up in the third floor boy’s bathroom."
"Well, I have no desire to see the inside of the boy’s bathroom, so make sure we don't make any wrong turns."
"Okay," I giggled, "no surprises. Do you want to go back to the lounge to wait or do you want to hang around here?"
"You know, right now I'm feeling pretty good, but by tonight I'm sure I'll be completely worn out again. There's no sense in speeding up that process by walking back and forth for no reason, let's wait here."
"Great! That means we can visit with Beca, Lizzy and the other girls. I wonder how many of the older year students are going to sleep in this morning?"
We moved to Beca's table to wait, that is if I remembered correctly. After all, there are ten small tables besides the six large tables. We talked for a while, mostly about the ball last night and the conversation we didn't have with Mr. Peterson yesterday, it felt weird to talk about something that happened, as though it didn't. We also talked about what Mr. Peterson said this morning, about staying in practice, neither one of us could figure out what he meant by that but knew it must somehow be important. Sometime during our talk I told Mary Beth what I found when I search the schools network for munchkin, and the reference to someone named Sally.
As the other students started entering the cafeteria we changed our conversation, talking about our upcoming French class.
I saw Beca and Lizzy come in the main entrance, along with Frank, Angel, Kimberley and Kate. We waved at them but they didn't seem to notice us. As they emerged from the serving area, I stood up to greet them.
"Munchkin, Mary Beth, what are you two doing here?" Beca surprisingly asked, as she set down her tray and got out her PDA.
"We have some extra time before our French class and thought we'd visit for a few minutes," Mary Beth explained.
"Does Ellen know that you two are here?" Kimberley asked, as she approached the table.
"Not yet!" Beca answered. "I'm sending her a note now."
"Beca, is there a problem with us being here?" I asked bluntly.
"A problem? ... Umm ... No, no problem. We just need to make some last minute ... Um, changes in the ah, seating arrangements, so you have a place to sit, while you’re here and we visit," Beca was trying to explain, while stepping all over her tongue.
"Beca, Kimberley, something is going on, you're all acting stranger than normal. So tell me, what's up," I insisted.
"Nothing going on, just arranging for someone to sit someplace else," Lizzy added.
"Oh, you've some other students assigned to your table?" Mary Beth asked.
"No, no new Students," Frank replied.
"The school has recruited several new psychiatrists and counselors. One of them usually sits with us," Angel added.
"With you here there isn't room for someone else," Kate offered.
"So why does Ellen need to know?" I queried suspiciously, ’I've heard fast double talk before and I knew that I was getting an overload of double talk.’
All my instincts were telling me that something was going on. For some reason my friends were tap-dancing around the issue with all the delicacy of a sumo wrestler at a child’s tea party. ‘This puzzle has just gotten bigger, with no new pieces.’
"Well ... because she schedules who sits at which table," Lizzy said, after a moments thought.
I pulled Beca aside, asking in a whisper, "Beca, what's going on? You might as well tell me. You know I'll figure it out sooner or later."
"Matilda, this is something you shouldn't look for, but later would be better, much, much later," she whispered. Beca then went back to the table and sat down. Reluctantly I joined her, still wondering what was going on.
Until it was time to go to class, the eight of us enjoyed learning more about each other. All the other girls wanted to know more about Mary Beth. It was here that I discovered that Beca and Lizzy are the year leaders for their year.
At the appointed time, Mary Beth and I bid adieu and headed off to class to learn French, another first.
’Just think; two weeks ago I lived in fear, afraid of Dad, afraid of Bart, and of letting anyone else know about me being Matilda. One week ago, I tried to kill myself because my life was so horrible. I had never thought about learning French or going to another country. I didn't think I would ever know happiness again. Today, I don't have to hide who I am. I am Matilda, and I've never been happier. The only thing I'm afraid of now is getting into trouble for hacking into the schools network. Mary Beth and I are together and I don't have to worry about Dad or Bart. Oh yes, miracles do happen.’
"Good morning girls." We were greeted as we entered the classroom.
"Good morning." We chorused. I giggled as I was thinking about Mary Beth and I. We’re almost as bad as Rachael and I were, sounding like twins. At least we'll never look like twins, with me being so much shorter than she is, sisters possibly, but not twins.
Behind the desk sat a slender young man with red hair and a very nice smile, "Hello, I'm Russell Skow, but you may call me Rusty. You must be Matilda and Mary Beth."
"We must be," I replied with a giggle. "I'm Matilda, and this is Mary Beth. Because you were expecting us, we've obviously stumbled into the right room."
"You're in the right room if you want to learn French."
I winked at Mary Beth, she nodded back. Together we curtsied and replied, "Oui Monsieur." We then sat in adjacent desks, smiling.
"I see you've been holding out on us. I was told you didn't know any French."
"Actually, nobody asked us," Mary Beth told him.
"We only know a few words in French," I confessed. "Last year there was a girl in our class that spoke French. Our teacher thought it would be good for everyone to learn a little."
"So, for about two months we spent about thirty minutes twice a week, learning French," Mary Beth added.
We quickly went over what we remembered from third grade, along with what we'd picked up from singing Christmas Carols in French.
"Well girls, that's a good beginning. Normally we spend six months teaching a foreign language. What the three of us need to accomplish is the same level of knowledge in six weeks. To accomplish this, you're both going to be a teacher to each other, as well as students. I know that sounds a little backwards but let me explain what I mean. You'll spend two and a half hours in class. The rest of the day I want you quizzing each other, not just on what you've learned that day but everything up to that point, do you understand?"
"Well Mary Beth," I said as I looked at her, "this is a little more than I expected, but I've helped you with your school work for years, so this will be nothing new."
"I'm not sure how good of a teacher I'll be," she confessed, "but I'll do my best."
I gave Mary Beth a little hug to show her that I knew she would be great. "It's agreed, Monsieur."
"Great! If everything goes as planned, in two weeks we should be able to tell Mr. Peterson that you'll be ready to change from all English to predominantly French. Let's get started. First, we'll briefly go over the French alphabet. Most of the letters sound the same ..."
After about ninety minutes, I began to regret not stopping to visit with Mother Nature before class. Twenty minutes later Mary Beth noticed I wasn't paying attention and had started to fidget. Bless her, she's so observant, she suggested taking a break before I had a chance.
After I returned from the restroom and we'd resumed, there was a beep from Mary Beth's PDA. She checked it, then she showed it to me. Her schedule had been changed. She now had an appointment with Dr. Harris at 11:45 today.
After class, we compared schedules and destinations as we went back down to the main floor, "Looks like my appointment with RJ is taking me to the administration building. I should be about thirty minutes according to what he's scheduled."
"That's an easy walk for you, the administration is next door. I have to walk down to the hospital to see Dr. Harris. They have me scheduled with him for two hours."
"What are they going to do with you for two hours?"
"I don't know, but it means I’m going to miss lunch."
"When RJ is finished with me, I'll swing by the cafeteria and pickup something for both of us. Then I'll come over to the hospital and wait for you."
"Sounds like a good plan. Good luck with RJ."
"Thanks, I'll need it. I was hoping you'd be with me, that way he wouldn't yell too loud."
"Oh come on, nobody is going to yell at you. Remember, they knew about your abilities before we came here. So they shouldn't have been surprised by what you did."
"I know but I'm still nervous about meeting RJ."
"You'll be fine. They just want to know how you got in, so they can make the system better."
"I suppose you right, but I'm still a little nervous."
"Come on now, be a brave little munchkin and I'll see you in a couple of hours," Mary Beth giggled as she pointed me towards the door, and gave a gentle push.
I arrived at the administration building and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Before I realized where I was, I found myself knocking on the designated door. Hearing someone call out “Come in,” I slowly opened the door and peeked inside, while trying to disappear into the woodwork at the same time. I vaguely remember hearing laughter.
My normal survival instincts kicked in as I quickly assessed the area. As I glanced around the room I discovered a large rectangular room with a dozen large tables, each had a different computer on it. The entire wall opposite the door was floor to ceiling bookshelves, almost completely filled with books. Along the wall on one end were columns of metal shelves with more computers than I could count in just a glance. At the other end was a large desk with a table on each end, looking like wings. Behind the desk, still laughing gently, was the only person in the room, who I assumed to be RJ.
"So, you're the little cherub that's been making our little, 'Heaven on Earth' so un-heavenly!"
"I beg your pardon," I was completely mystified by his statement.
Still chuckling, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist. The way you were peeking in and then trying to hide, reminded me of a character from a book my father used to read, each year at Christmas. Have you ever heard of a book 'The Littlest Angel'?" he asked as he came towards me.
I didn't hear much of anything he said. As he came around the tables crossing the expanse between his desk and where I stood, I was in shock as I stared straight ahead, right at his belt buckle. If I were any smaller, people would probably expect me to still be crawling.
Suddenly, there was a smiling face in front of my eyes, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, behind metal rim glasses, and a red mustache with a goatee. I vaguely remember giggling as I thought, ‘how do you get blonde hair and have a red beard and mustache?’
"I'm sorry if I startled you, little one," he said gently. "My name is Russell Wentworth Jr., but almost everyone calls me RJ."
Well, that ended my giggling and changed my smile into a scowl. I'm sure he saw my expression change as he add, "Have I said something to upset you, little one?"
"My name … is Matilda!" I said, just a little gruffly. "I'll also answer to Munchkin. I know I'm small for my age but, don't call me ‘LITTLE ONE’. After all, I’ve been know to do bad things when I’m upset, and you wouldn’t want me to scramble the schools network."
"I'm sorry Matilda; I didn't mean to say anything to offend you. Please accept my apology. As for the network, I think it’s reasonably safe.” he replied with a warm smile, diffusing my anger.
"Oh … it's not your fault I'm so small. Just as it's not your fault you’re so tall. It’s just that whenever I meet new people, they usually call me that. I really need to work on controlling my anger."
"Well, I for one won't make that mistake again, and to try to make things easier for you, I'll mention it in staff meeting. That way nobody else here will make the same mistake I just did."
"Thank you Mr. Wentworth. I'm sorry I was gruff with you."
"That's all right Matilda, it’s already forgotten. Would you please call me RJ? When people call me 'Mister' it makes me think they’re talking about my father. Well, I guess he isn’t my father anymore. No, that isn’t quite right either; he'll always be my father, he just isn’t sure he wants to be considered a he any more. Was that confusing? It’s confusing to me when I think about it. Anyway, calling me ‘Mister’ makes me feel old."
"Okay, RJ it is, but compared to me, you are old," I giggled.
"And just how old do you think I am?"
’Oh no, I've done it again; I've got to remember to take my foot out of my mouth before I start talking. Now how do I get out of this one?’ "I would guess ... over twenty-five. That would make you more than fifteen years older than I am, so from my point of view, you're old."
"All right, I'll concede this round," he chuckled. "Score one for the Munchkin. Shall we talk about computers for a while? I need to find out if you're as sharp, as everyone says you are. Why don't you take a seat at the table next to my desk? I'd like to talk about what you've been doing with my systems. You haven't been writing any viruses have you?"
"Oh, no sir! I would never do anything like that."
"And why not?"
"Because viruses are bad."
"Are all viruses bad?"
I wasn’t quite sure what he was asking so I didn't respond.
"Can you think of a time when a computer virus was used in a good way?"
I thought for a moment … then shook my head while shrugging my shoulders.
"Well, we’ll discuss that another time. According to my logs, you made quite a few attempts to get through the firewalls into the main server system. You started late Friday, then there was an attempt about every two hours on Saturday, then again one or two attempts yesterday morning at which time you apparently gave up, based on the fact that there were no more attempts logged. Is that pretty much correct?"
"Yes, that's pretty much correct," I replied softly, a little ashamed of myself for taking so long to figure out the system.
"So tell me, after you discovered you couldn't get into the system with your PDA, why didn't you try using a stationary computer?"
’I guess nobody has told him about my confession last night, which means I'll have to do it. Darn, I hate it when I have to tattle on myself.’
"I guess there are a couple of things you should know about me. First, I never give up, at least not when I feel it's important. Second, I didn't give up ... I succeeded in getting in," I all but whispered. Knowing that he would want to see it, I got out my PDA and entered the security code I'd set up, so no one would accidentally find the projects I've been working on. Then I executed the batch file I wrote, so I wouldn't have to go through the entire sequence every time. When the sequence completed and was displaying the list of servers, I handed my PDA to RJ.
RJ examined the screen, his eyebrows raised several inches as he realized what he was looking at. "Well, score ten for the Munchkin. I didn't think this was possible, definitely not with this model PDA. I guess … perhaps our network isn’t as safe as I thought."
"Beca told me that nobody has ever cracked the system with a PDA before."
"Let's just say, nobody has ever cracked the system with a PDA and lived to tell about it."
"What?" I think my eyes grew three inches.
"Just teasing, just teasing. You haven't done anything wrong, just very, very unexpected. This does explain a few things, like the note I got from Gregg Peterson this morning."
"What did Mr. Peterson have to say about me?"
"He said that there was a note addressed to you, along with a link. The link would have been active Saturday night, but had been removed sometime Sunday. He also said that you would be able to help me, in finding the author of the note. I have to admit, I was somewhat confused, until now. Let’s start with the note to you, what did it say and where did you find it?"
I explained about the note, what and where, as well as the events of last night. Which explained why Mr. Peterson is interested. I'm sure he takes offense at someone else using his name.
I used my PDA, because it's what I'm familiar with, while RJ used the computer on his desk. It took about twenty minutes to load the Saturday night backup into the backup servers. After that, it took RJ barely five minutes to determine the author of the note. He sent the information to Mr. Peterson, who responded immediately.
"Well Matilda, you certainly seem to know your way around a computer. I can see I'll need to spend more time with you, as well as more time working on my security," he chuckled. "Where did you learn to penetrate computer security?"
I gave him a brief rundown on my computer experience, including being banned from my previous school’s computers. I went on to explain how the school officials insisted that my parents not have one at home, because I'd been getting in from the outside. I omitted the part about using my friends’ computers. I did tell him about the chat room I used to visit, along with my friend and instructor, hhb303.
He seemed a little shocked, "Did you say hhb303?"
"Yes, that was the log-in ID they used. Do you know who that is?"
"Oh yes! I know her indeed. I'll have to send a note to a colleague of mine, asking her why her students are working outside their country. There is a chance that Julia doesn't know," he ended softly, as if talking to himself.
’Julia, that's a name I haven't heard before. I'll have to remember that one, along with the knowledge that she isn't in this country. More pieces of the puzzle for me to track down and link together.’
Before we adjourned for the day I inquired, "RJ, are you planning to upgrade Mary Beth's and my PDA's to the current model?"
"I was planning to do just that. However, after talking with you today, I've changed my mind. I still want to give Mary Beth a current model, but not you." He paused here, smiling after he saw my expression change. "In about ten days, several prototypes of a new PDA will be arriving for evaluation. If you can wait, I'd like to give you one of those, and have you assist with their evaluation."
"Sure! That works for me," I agreed with a smile, I'm sure my eyes were the size of saucers. "When should Mary Beth come in?"
"Bring her with you tomorrow; we'll take care of her new PDA then."
"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow RJ."
RJ indicated he would arrange for a longer session next time. I think I was floating as I rushed to the cafeteria to get some lunch for Mary Beth and myself.
’I can't believe what had just happened; I cracked the schools network, and I'm not in trouble. On top of that, RJ wants me to help evaluate the new PDA's. I wonder why he chose me instead of an older student. What was it Aaron and Beca said last night ... oh yes, Aaron said nobody had ever done what I did; nobody has ever cracked the system using a PDA. Beca wondered how I got into the schools network with an out dated PDA. I still don't believe it, I mean, I’m … there can't be anything special about me. Then again, maybe I should listen to everyone.’
I sat for a few minutes with year A, telling them how my appointment with RJ went. They were more interested in knowing who had set them up last night at the banquet, than they were about RJ asking me to help him. I explained to them that Mr. Peterson had requested that I not say anything. As Mr. Peterson had put it in his note back to RJ, everything would be revealed in due course. While I was there, I arranged for Rachael's afternoon visitors. Then I was off to find Mary Beth.
Arriving at the hospital, I went through the first set of doors and down the hall. Remembering from our talk earlier, she should be in the first floor examination area.
Seeing Tina, as I entered the waiting area, I greeted her, "Hi Tina."
"Hello Matilda, I see you've brought me some lunch," she teased sarcastically. After seeing the surprise on my face, she quickly added, "I'm just kidding, what can I do for you today?"
"I'm looking for Mary Beth. After she’s finished here, we'll go up to see Rachael."
"At this moment she's, in back, having some pictures taken."
"Having some pictures taken?" I wondered aloud.
Tina giggled as she responded, "They’re taking some X-Rays of her ribcage."
"Oh, those kind of pictures. Well I guess they don't need me to hold her hand or anything like that," I giggled softly, as I was joking.
"Oh no, no hand holding needed," she agreed, also giggling. "Why don't you have a seat? I'll bring her out when they’re finished."
"Thank you Tina," I found myself a soft couch, set our lunches on a near by table, and settled in for an unknown wait. I fired up my PDA and went to work. I wanted to find out as much as I could about the schools network, that is, before RJ figures out how to lock me out, just to see how long it will take for me to work my way back in.
I waited about thirty minutes before Tina escorted Mary Beth into the waiting room. "Hi Munchkin, been waiting long?" Mary Beth called out as she came through the double doors.
"No, not too long. Just long enough to figure out how to take over the world, but not long enough to execute the plan."
Mary Beth stopped, put her fists on her hips and stared at me.
"What?" I asked, surprised by her action, and not knowing what I’d done to upset her.
"You are NOT nick naming me PINKIE!" she declared.
"Who said anything about a nickname?"
"Well, you said, you figured out how to take over the world. You're the smart one and I'm the tall one. Sounds to me that you're comparing us to 'Pinkie and the Brain'."
"The thought never crossed my mind ... until now. You know, Pinkie isn't bad."
"Matilda, you're not listening ... I said NO."
"Oh come on, it's better than what Charles called you."
"You're right, Pinkie is better than what he called me, but the answer is still no."
"All right, I won't call you Pinkie and because we're friends I'll never call you ..."
"MATILDA!"
"I wasn't going to say it. I do, however, reserve the right to come up with an appropriate nickname."
"As long as I have the right to say no, if I don't like it."
"That's an acceptable compromise. Now, shall we eat?" I smiled, pointing to the food on the table.
"Matilda, how hungry do you think I am, that's way too much for me."
"Who said that it was all for you? I said, 'shall we eat' as in ... both of us."
"Oh ... I just assumed that you'd already eaten, along with the rest of the year."
"I told you that I'd wait for you."
"Yes, but I thought you'd just wait for me, not wait to eat lunch with me."
I just shrugged my shoulders and handed her a plate, as she sat down. We talked as we ate. We also practiced our French. We'd only had one lesson but we both agreed ... we sounded really awful. We were both giggling at how bad we sounded when Dr. Harris came in and invited us into his office.
"Well Mary Beth, after carefully examining you and looking over your X-Ray's, it appears that Mr. Peterson is correct, you have been too active. Several of the cracks in your ribs are larger now than when you were at Primary Children’s. I'm prescribing one month of no walking, and definitely no stairs."
"You mean I have to lay around in bed for a month?" Mary Beth exclaimed, as she sadly slumped down in her chair. She looked like she’d lost her best friend, even though I was sitting next to her.
"A hundred years ago, cracked ribs would have meant three months in bed. Today we’re a little more advanced. I've arranged for an alternate means of transportation," he explained as he pressed a button on his phone. "Marie, you may come in now."
The side door opened and Marie entered, pushing what was to be Mary Beth’s transportation. It was sleek, it was fast, it had padded leather, and lots of chrome, and when I saw it I started laughing.
“A wheelchair?” Mary Beth cried out.
“Matilda, what’s so funny?” Marie asked.
It took me a few moments to control my laughing enough to squeak out, “I suggested a wheelchair two days ago.”
“Using a wheelchair between buildings is fine, but how am I supposed to get to our French class on the third floor, choir practice in the theater, or to my room on the second floor?” Mary Beth complained, looking for a way out of living her life from a seated position.
“Well, normally the students aren’t permitted to use the elevators,” Mr. Peterson said from behind us, startling us. “However, as long as Dr. Harris feels it’s necessary for you to be in the wheelchair, you and Matilda have been granted access. As of about ten minutes ago, all of the elevators will show up on the school maps, on your PDA’s. They have been programmed to open using your thumb print.”
‘Why is he here? Is he always so interested in all the student’s medical needs? Or is there something special about the two of us?’
"I didn't know there are elevators in these buildings," Mary Beth complained.
"Oops," I confessed, "I must have missed that part when I was telling you about my graduation."
"Oh really, and what else haven't you told me?" Mary Beth asked.
"Girls, this isn't the time," Mr. Peterson expressed with a chuckle. "Let's allow Dr. Harris to continue telling us about Mary Beth's treatment."
"There's more?" Mary Beth asked in shock.
"That's the only major change. You're still to use the elastic bandages, except when you bathe. Just out of curiosity, who has been applying your bandages each day?"
"Well ... Um, I take them off before I shower, and, Matilda's been putting them on for me," Mary Beth explained. She appeared a little nervous as she explained our arrangement.
"What ... really?" Mr. Peterson surprisingly questioned. "You haven't had one of the other g..."
"That's fine Dear," Dr. Harris interrupted. "The reason I asked was to say they've been doing an excellent job, not too loose, and not too tight. Matilda, I'm going to give you two additional bandages. I want you to wrap her from her arms to the bottom of her rib cage, not just around the damaged ribs. That will provide some additional support for the damaged ribs. In addition, I've arranged for a second set of bandages, the ones we took off this afternoon were getting a little ripe. That’s my fault for not thinking ahead, sorry about that. Mary Beth, when you bathe put the bandages you take off down the laundry chute along with your clothes. They'll be cleaned and returned for use the next day. Do you two have any questions?"
"I have one; what about her muscle tone?" Mr. Peterson asked. "Without using her legs for four weeks, what's her mobility going to be like in six weeks?"
"There shouldn't be any problem. She can walk around in their rooms, to change clothes, to bathe, things like that. She can also stand for choir practice," Dr. Harris explained.
"What about using the restrooms during the day?" Mary Beth asked, shyly.
"There's no problem with leaving the chair to take care of your personal needs. The wheelchair is to reduce the movement of your ribs, so they can mend properly, not completely eliminate it. The problem has been the almost continuous walking, along with all the stairs. After thirty days we'll re-evaluate your progress, but I want to see you each week. Are there any other questions?"
There weren't any more questions. Mary Beth reluctantly rose from where she was sitting and went over to Marie. I followed and we got a quick lesson in wheelchair 101. I pushed as Mary Beth tried to disappear into the padded leather seat.
As we left Dr. Harris's office I asked, "Which way do we go?"
"How should I know?" Mary Beth grumbled.
"Well, it's pretty obvious that I'm the engine behind this little land yacht. That makes you the navigator. So get out your PDA and find the nearest elevator, so we can go see Rachael. Oh, I forgot to tell you, tomorrow you need to go with me to see RJ. He's going to exchange your PDA for a current model."
"What do you mean, current model," she asked as she looked for the elevator on the building map.
"According to Beca, we were issued outdated PDA's because we arrived in middle of the school year. It seems that RJ is the only one who can register the current model on the network, at least for now,” I giggled.
"Oh, so I'm getting a new one, tomorrow. What about yours? Did you upgrade today? Go down the hall, at the junction make a left. The elevator will be on our right."
"He was planning to upgrade both of them tomorrow, but after learning about me breaking into the network with my old PDA, he changed his mind."
"He took yours away and banned you from all computers?"
"NOO! He has several new prototypes coming in next week. He's giving me one of them and I’ll be assisting with their evaluation."
Mary Beth spun around in her chair, surprised by my news, "No way, you're the youngest student here, and you're helping with something as important as selecting new PDA's for the whole school? That has to be some kind of record."
"Yeah," I agreed a little sadly, then jokingly I added. "Just another first for the Mystical Munchkin."
"Mystical Munchkin? Where did that come from?"
"Actually, from me. Everyone seems to think I have some kind of magic or mystic powers. It just popped into my head."
"Well I for one like it. Mystical Munchkin, it works for you, and it sings."
"MARY BETH! WHAT HAPPENED?" Rachael screamed as we entered her room, causing everyone else to turn, stare, and several jaw's hit the floor.
"Oh ... Matilda punched me out because I wouldn't take it easy," Mary Beth replied with a grin, while winking over her shoulder at me.
"I did no such thing! Although I have been trying to convince you to take it easy," I countered.
Several jaws were still on the floor, soon joined by a couple more, as Mary Beth and I started our verbal battle.
"Take it easy? Who is it that keeps complaining that we're late for everything," Mary Beth shot back.
"I never complained about being late. I just want to leave sooner so we won’t be late." ‘These guys better catch on quick, I don't know how long I can keep this up.’
"Well who is it that tried to tie my knees together so I wouldn't move so fast?"
"Well who says you can't move fast with your knees tied together. Penguins move pretty fast, and they have short legs."
"Of course they have short legs; they're only two feet tall. How could you expect them to have long legs?"
'I think they’re starting to wake up; some of their eyes are blinking.' "So now you're saying that because I'm short, I should have six inch legs?"
"Well if the shoe fits …"
"If you want to talk about shoes, let's talk about those tiny things of yours. I heard rumor that you and your little brother used to share shoes."
"We never shared shoes! We probably could have, but only because Jeffrey's feet were so big."
"Oh, and your feet aren't small?"
Mary Beth held up her feet for all to see. "What do you guys think, are my feet small?"
"Hey, wait a second," Abbey jumped in. "You two aren't supposed to be heckling each other, that's our job."
I stepped forward and held up Abbey's right hand. "And we have a winner folks, only thirteen verbal shots to figure out it was us against everyone else."
"Congratulations Abbey," Mary Beth added. "Em, what does that do to the average?"
"Well gee, I don't know," Em seemed surprised to be asked. "It's usually us heckling someone else, seeing how long it takes them to figure out we're heckling them. This is the first time that two went against each other with the group guessing what was going on."
"I guess that makes Abbey the current record holder, doesn't it?" Mary Beth queried.
"Okay, you've had your fun," Rachael bluntly stated. "Now tell us, why is Mary Beth in a wheelchair."
"Actually, my first line about Matilda punching me out, is more exciting than the truth. This is really stupid," Mary Beth grumbled.
"Because of all the walking and going up and down the stairs, her cracked ribs are worse now than after Bart beat her up," I added, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.
'I still feel sort of responsible for what's happened to Mary Beth and Rachael. I know it was Bart that hurt them and I'm not responsible for his actions. Still, if I weren’t trying to be me, they wouldn't have been trying to protect me. Somehow that makes sense, and then again, it doesn't make any sense at all.' Deep sigh, 'I need to schedule some time to talk with Ellen, I still need to sort this all out.'
"So Dr. Harris sentenced me to live in this, this … thing, for the next thirty days."
Giggling, I corrected her, "I think that was prescribed, not sentenced. And this thing is a wheelchair, which by the way appears to have never been used before."
"It still feels like a thirty day sentence."
"So how do you handle the stairs in that?" Wally asked.
"Do you have to get four or five others to carry you up and down?" Tony wondered aloud.
"Oh, that's the only good part," Mary Beth explained. "As long as I'm in this chair, we get to use the elevators."
“That’s unusual, I haven’t heard of anyone under year D using the elevators,” Hope thought aloud.
“It may be unusual, but not entirely unexpected,” Niki softly added.
“Hope, what was it you said about the elevators?” I asked.
“Um, I said that I haven’t heard of anyone under year D using them. Why?”
“That’s strange, Mr. Peterson said that ‘normally the students aren’t permitted to use the elevators’. Now you’re telling me that some students use them, that’s very strange,” I puzzled.
"Listen Matilda, you and Mary Beth haven't been here long enough to discover this on your own, like we did, so we'll just tell you," Wally said softly.
"Wally, is this something we should be discussing here?" Tony asked.
"I guess you're right about that. This should really be coming from Jenny and Aaron anyway. We'll talk later and give you all the details, at least the details that we know of."
"Anyway, it's almost time for choir practice, so we better get moving," Hope declared.
"Already?," Rachael complained. "But Matilda and Mary Beth just got here."
"I'm sorry Sis," I hugged Rachael as I apologized. "We were held up by Dr. Harris. I tell you what, I'll try to sneak back later."
"Promise?" Rachael begged.
"Oh, I can't promise, my schedule is really full on Mondays, but I'll try. Say, what time do you have dinner? Maybe I could come back then."
"They usually feed me dinner about 4:45. It's a lot earlier than I'm used to but that's what I get for being crippled," she remarked sadly.
"You're most definitely suffering from limited mobility, but because it's only a temporary condition, I wouldn't consider you crippled. Also, if these guys didn't tell you, the Black Sheep are working on a special computer interface for you."
"Oh we forgot about it," Niki confessed.
"Okay sis, stop pulling my leg, I don't need one longer than the other. If you hadn't noticed, I can't move my arms or hands, just how do you expect me to work a keyboard?"
"What about your fingers, can you move them?" Abbey asked.
"Yes, I can move them a little, that doesn't mean I can work a keyboard," Rachael grumbled.
"Don't worry about that. Just put yourself in our hands and we'll take care of you," Em added.
"Come on Munchkin, we really need to get this land yacht moving," Mary Beth teased.
"All right, I'm coming. I'll see you later Sis," I hugged Rachael and pushed Mary Beth out the door.
Mary Beth and I headed for the elevator as everyone else scurried down the stairs. We met up and started for the theater, at a very fast pace. We arrived and I asked the others to take Mary Beth in through the stage door, so she wouldn't have to climb the six steps from the floor to the stage. Even though practice had started, I needed to make a quick trip to the restroom. As I entered and went on stage, they had just finished with the carols in English.
"Oh good, you're here," Mrs. Taylor commented.
"I'm sorry I was late, I had to stop and ..."
"That's all right Dear, it happens to everyone from time to time. Just don't make a habit of being late," Mrs. T said with a smile. "Roberta, would you please take over for me. Run everyone through the carols in French. Pay particular attention to the base and tenor parts of ‘The Little Drummer Boy’; they have been a little weak.”
"I'd be happy to continue for you Mrs. T." Roberta readily agreed.
"Oh, and Roberta," Mrs. T added.
"Yes?"
"No rearranging of ‘Do You Hear What I Hear’.”
"But Mrs. T., you know I'm right! Having the oboe pick up the melody for the second and third verses would add depth to the melody as well as provide a more full body accompaniment for the choir," Roberta, pleaded her case.
"I'm not disagreeing with you. It's just that this isn't the time. The special guests that will be attending the concert in Quebec aren't accustomed to rewrites and variety. They will be more impressed by precision and accurately reproducing what the composer designed. You'll get your chance Dear, just be patient."
"Yes Mrs. T." Roberta reluctantly agreed.
"Matilda and Mary Beth, would you come with me, please," Mrs. T asked.
"You're iiiinnnn trouble." Someone called out.
"Matilda, what did you do this time," came from someone else.
Playfully, I turned and looked at the choir, shrugging my shoulders and gave them my best 'innocent little old me' look.
Mrs. T ignored the comments as she handed Roberta the baton. Roberta tapped the music stand, calling for attention, and everyone was instantly quiet.
Mrs. T smiled at the choir’s professional behavior, as she led Mary Beth and me into another room.
"Contrary to the hecklers," Mrs. T assured us with a smile, "neither of you are in trouble. After reviewing your schedules this is the only time I've found to audition your voices. If you would both stand next to the piano, we'll get started."
We took our places and were handed some music. For the next two hours, we sang together and we sang separately. There didn't seem to be any pattern to the music, we sang everything from simple children’s songs to classical, some pop, some country, and even some things I'd never heard of. We even sang several songs from, of all things, The Wizard of Oz.
At the end of the two plus hours Mrs. T thanked and dismissed us, as she left the room.
"Well that was odd," Mary Beth commented.
"Really, I expected ... I don't know, something more."
"Yeah, like what part she wants us to sing, or something like that."
"Oh well, I guess she'll tell us later. Have a seat and we'll go back to the lounge and see what the rest of the year has been up to."
"Do you think any of them are going to bug me about this wheelchair?"
"They may heckle you a bit, but I doubt it. For the most part, they are very understanding. Ready?"
"Yes, but when we get back I want to get a blanket. My legs sure get cold when I'm not doing the walking."
I giggled just a bit, "No problem, after we get back to the lounge, I'll run upstairs and grab one for you."
There was a surprise waiting for us when we got back to the lounge. Someone had rearranged the furniture to make space for two large folding tables along the wall opposite the plasma screen. There were two complete computers, along with several additional keyboards, mice, and trackballs. Everyone was gathered around the tables and the air was filled excitement, along with a barrage of excited chatter.
"What's all this?" I asked generally. It seems that no one had noticed our arrival.
"Oh Matilda, it' so exciting," Misa exclaimed, who noticed I was standing next to her.
"Good to see you two," Aaron greeted after hearing Misa call me by name, then went on to explain. "After lunch I talked with RJ, explaining about our project to build some wireless keyboards for Rachael. He commended our action and our desire to help Rachael. He said he'd see if he had some excess equipment that we could use."
"Excess equipment? Heck some of this stuff has never been used," SueAnn announced.
"But where did it come from?" Mary Beth asked.
"From the school, like everything else," Howard dryly replied.
"When we returned from choir practice, all of this was neatly stacked outside the lounge," Jenny added.
"Outside the lounge?" I queried.
"Of course! Remember, no one is permitted into a year lounge, other than their own, without permission," Wally reminded.
"Sorry, I forgot. It's still strange to me that even Mr. Peterson must ask permission to come in here. So Aaron, where do we start?"
"Who put me in charge of this project? After all, she's your sister!" He replied.
"I'm sorry Aaron," I apologized. "You're right of course, Rachael is my sister and the entire concept was my idea. Let me rephrase my question, how do wireless keyboards work?"
"Oh that's easy," Aaron responded with his usual smile, while picking up a pad of graph paper. "You draw a matrix, where the lines cross you put a switch. All the lines in the matrix go to the inputs of the keyboard control chip. The control chip determines which key has been pressed and sends a coded signal to the CPU. When it comes to a wireless keyboard, that signal is sent to a transmitter. The receiver then feeds the signal to the CPU."
"So what do we need to know before we can design a new keyboard?"
"We need to know what decoder chip is being used with what transmitter."
"If I understand you correctly, you're telling me we need to open up a keyboard and find out what makes it tick, right?" I asked, making sure I understood Aaron correctly.
"I believe that's what I said."
"Great, who wants to be slightly destructive?"
A dozen hands went up. "Aaron, I'll let you pick someone to help you with the discovery work. I need to run up to my room for a minute."
I went after a blanket for Mary Beth. While I was away from the noise of the crowd, I went over what Aaron had said about how a keyboard works. I tried to relate that to Rachael's fingers, and their limited movement. We needed to know exactly how much she could move each finger, then we would be able to determine how many keys she could operate. I realized that everyone wanted to be a part of the project, so I went through every ones profile checking their specialty.
When I got back to the lounge, I got everyone together and we talked about the project for a while. I went over what I hoped to accomplish. Next, I involved everyone and we came up with a list of the functions we wanted, then we narrowed it down to what we felt we could reasonably accomplish in the amount of time available to us.
About that time there was a knock at the door, Howard went to answer it. He turned back to announce, "Jenny, Aaron, Mr. Peterson and Ellen would like to come in for a few minutes."
"All right, who did something to get us into trouble again?" someone yelled. There was some snickering from various parts of the room.
"That's enough you guys, nobody's said anything about being in trouble," Aaron cautioned.
"Howard, Mr. Peterson and Ellen are welcome here at any time," Jenny said. "Permit them entrance."
“Good evening everyone," Mr. Peterson greeted, as he entered. "Thank you for seeing us this afternoon. It has been brought to our attention that Ellen and I have been neglect in our duties."
There was some general background chatter, along with some snickering, but no one said anything outright until Jenny asked, "In what manor have you neglected your duties?"
"Four days ago, when we introduce Mary Beth and Matilda as the newest members of year A, we failed to assign them their specialty," Mr. Peterson explained.
"We'd like to correct that oversight now," Ellen announced. "Mary Beth, would you please stand."
Mary Beth set the brakes on her wheel chair, kicked up the footrests, and gently rose to her feet.
"Mary Beth, after going over your profile, we realized that you have two very strong personality strengths; first, you care about other people and find joy in helping others. Second, you are fascinated with the human body, how it's put together, and how adaptable it is to changes in environment. After reviewing all your information, it became apparent that you are best suited for the medical profession, and as such, you will be the year’s medical expert, specializing in trauma care. Where everyone receives training in first-aid, you will receive in-depth training in emergency care and life saving techniques. Any questions?"
Mary Beth didn't ask any questions, it's hard to ask a question when your chin is on the floor. She recovered her senses, with a tug on her arm from me, closed her mouth and shook her head. She slowly sat back down, still in a daze.
"That's all right Dear, we'll talk more about it later. I'm sure you'll have some questions after we talk. Now, Matilda, would you please stand."
I stopped smiling at Mary Beth's confused look as I realized that it was my turn. Slowly I stood, wondering what awaited me.
"As you all know, because of the events of last night, our youngest student has a thing for computers. This isn’t your every day run-of-the-mill attraction to computers either; she is obviously very adept at getting them to do exactly what she wants. However, we already have a Computer Systems Specialist as well as a Network Systems Specialist. We therefore had to look deep into Matilda's profile to determine what she would be best at besides getting into trouble; we already have enough of those as well. After much debate we realized that Matilda's strengths would best be of service, to both her and the school, if she were to expand her talents. Therefore, Matilda will be the school’s Security Systems Specialist. This means that not only will she work with RJ on our computer security systems, but will also learn all none computer security systems as well. Do you have any questions?”
“Not right now, but give me a couple of hours and I’m sure after it sinks in I’ll come up with a hundred or more,” I answered, trying to make sense of Ellen’s last statement.
"Well, that concludes the assignment of specialties," Mr. Peterson stated. "Before we leave, I have a question. What do you have against the far wall and where did it come from?”
‘I don't know about everyone else, but I was very much surprised by Mr. Peterson's last question. I thought he knew everything that went on here. I guess he's going to visit with RJ after he leaves here. Being that I'm running this project, I suppose I should be the one to tell him about it.’
I briefly explained to Mr. Peterson and Ellen the project we'd undertaken to help Rachael during her recovery. Aaron added the part, about his talk with RJ, and the equipment being outside the lounge after choir practice.
The room was silent for several seconds before Mr. Peterson spoke, "This is a surprise, but a pleasant surprise. I must commend you all; for one, caring enough about another that you willing to devote yourselves to helping them. Secondly, for taking on such a surprising undertaking. Although, I'm not sure that I approve of your turning your lounge into a workshop ... but it is your lounge. With your permission, I'll look around the school and see if I can find some space better suited to your needs." The room was silent again.
I looked at Aaron and Jenny, they nodded their consent witch left it up to me to respond. "Um, yea, that would be great, thank you," I sputtered.
"No promises, but I'll see what I can find. I'm guessing that you'll out grow the space you have before you finish your project. Well, it’s almost time for dinner; we'll leave now so you can be on your way. Thank you for letting us visit with you."
With that, Mr. Peterson and Ellen left, however, none of us moved.
"Did Mr. Peterson give us a complement?" Wally asked, almost in shock.
"Ya, I think he did," SueAnn answered.
"And I think he offered to help us, well in a way," Barb mentioned.
"You heard it too, I thought I was dreaming," Morgan muttered.
"You weren't dreaming, he offered to find us some place to work. At least he said he would try to find us some space," Misa remarked.
"He's never complemented us before," Tony mumbled.
"Maybe he's getting soft," Abbey said.
"Could it be that we're the ones who are getting soft?" Tony wondered aloud.
"We can't get soft, we're the Black Sheep, we've got a reputation to maintain," George exclaimed.
"George, it's true that the Black Sheep were trouble makers and they were frequently in fights." I went on to expound on their positive attributes, "However, they were also known for their flying, they were the best in the pacific. They also spent much of their free time doing things for others, rebuilding schools, villages, and helping the civilians after the attacks by the Japanese, Misa, no offense intended. We can still be 'The Black Sheep', by being the best students here, by having the best grade point average, the best attitude, and by helping everyone that is in need."
"You mean no more heckling?"
I smiled as I replied, "Who said anything about not having fun now and then, or that we'll never be in trouble? After all, for me to be the best me, I'm bound to get into trouble from time to time."
"I think what Matilda is trying to tell us," Jenny explained, "is that we can be the best we can be, and still have fun doing it. Also, that we do not need to go out looking for trouble. If trouble finds us from time to time, well, it is part of the ride." She paused then added with a smile, after looking around the group, "And if trouble comes looking for us, we WILL be ready for it."
There was some general cheering, along with a few shouted comments.
"All right, all right, settle down," Aaron called out, trying, successfully, to restore some order. "I don't know about the rest of you but I for one, am hungry. Let's go get some dinner."
"You're always hungry Aaron," someone called out.
"We should nickname you 'Rolly' after that puppy in Disney's movie," someone else called out, with a chuckle.
"At least I don't look like a fat puppy," Aaron countered.
"Not yet!" someone snickered.
"All right, enough heckling and enough about my eating. I'm going to dinner! Are you coming Jenny?"
"Of course I am. After all tomorrow’s breakfast is a long way away. Will anyone else be joining us?" Jenny asked, as she rose and looked around.
It didn't take more than two seconds for everyone to realize that Jenny was right. Everyone except Mary Beth jumped to their feet and headed for their coats, and the door. I wrapped the blanket around her legs and we quickly followed the crowd.
There were two things different about dinner that evening; one, Mr. Peterson wasn't in attendance. Two, several of the smaller tables were being used by the other LDS students, which reminded me of Family Home Evening. Their presence prompted some questions by the others at our table. Mary Beth was unusually quiet, which left it up to me to answer everyone’s questions.
When I finished eating, I took Mary Beth to attend Family Home Evening with the branch, while I rushed over to the hospital to see Rachael. We talked about how boring her days were. I gave her a rundown of our project to build some keypads for her. She seemed skeptical until I got into the details of how they would be mounted, allowing her fingers to do all the work. This cheered her up considerably, even more than my visit.
The last surprise of the day came at choir practice. First, there was a lot of commotion and giggling as five members of year C were escorted to practice, by five students from year H. The funny part was that they were all dressed alike, long pink, very frilly dresses, pink lacey anklets, and pink Mary Jane’s. Their hair had been done in a very childlike manner. This was obviously the group that had setup year A at the banquet. I quickly logged back into the system and checked in the directory ‘Discipline’, comparing against the discipline that year A received several months ago. As I suspected, they were the same. The second surprise was that Mrs. T and Roberta were several minutes late, each carrying armloads of paper. "Good evening everyone," Mrs. T greeted cheerfully. "I apologize for being late, Roberta and I have been very busy getting the music together for the rest of our concert tour. Most of what we've been planning for the Toronto concert will be used in Quebec; however, we are adding three additional pieces to the overall tour, and I will be juggling which songs we will sing at which location. I also have two other changes to make; Mary Beth, I would like you to come up front and stand next to Susanne. Matilda, would you please move to the front row as well, only I'd like you on the far left end, please."
As Mary Beth and I moved to our requested positions, Mrs. T and Roberta started passing out the music, Mrs. T to the choir and Roberta the orchestra. The first new piece was no surprise, being that we would be performing in Canada, ‘Oh Canada’. The second took me by surprise. It wasn't something I expected a school like this would be singing, ‘Willy Bang Bang’, oh well, something just for fun I guess. The third was a medley of songs from, ‘The Wizard of Oz’. Someone in Quebec must really have a thing for Munchkins.
Although there was a lot of excitement and chatter going on, I noticed that Mrs. T gave Mary Beth a completely new music portfolio, setting the old one on the floor next to the podium. I also noticed Mr. Peterson in the back of the hall with another man. Mr. Peterson seemed to be pointing in my general direction and the other man appeared to be nodding in approval.
The rest of practice went well. We had a lot of fun with the songs from Willy Wonka and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I’m not sure who merged the music from those two movies together, but they must have had fun and been more than just a little crazy.
Practice ended and after a quick visit to the restroom, we were on our way back to our rooms. “So what is with the new music portfolio?” I inquired as I propelled my friend along.
“Oh, I think Mrs. T had wax in her ears, when she was listening to us sing. Look at this,” she held open the portfolio to me, “she’s given me the music for a first soprano, like I can sing or something. She even wants me to spend some extra time with Susanne, learning to sing duets with her, can you imagine how that’s going to sound.”
“Well, if Mrs. T put you there I guess you must be better than you think. After all, she’s been conducting this choir for some time, she must know what she’s doing,” I confessed, trying to help Mary Beth feel better about herself.
“Come off it Matilda, you know I sound terrible, admit it,” she moaned.
I stopped just outside our building, walked around and looked at her, face to face, “Okay Mary Beth, that’s enough of putting yourself down, at least when it comes to your singing. We’ve been friends for years. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard you sing, but it’s been a lot. I’ve always wished I could sing half as good as you do. I’ve tried to tell you before, but something always stopped me. But not this time! Mary Beth, you have the voice of an angel. It’s like me and computers, we fit together and I can make them do whatever I want. When you sing, I want to stop everything I’m doing so I can listen to you. Take my word for it, it won’t be long before you aren’t singing duets anymore, soon you’ll be singing solos.”
I stood there, looking into her eyes and watching a tear roll down her cheek, as she looked into mine. I don’t know how much time passed before she spoke timidly, breaking the spell. “Matilda … I’m getting cold, let’s go inside.”
I smiled and went back to my joyful duty. After we were ready for bed, I found the soundtrack’s to go with the music that we needed to learn. We spent half an hour learning the words to the songs the choir would be singing. I guess we’ll have to learn to get by with less sleep each night, because neither of us will give up our time reading the scriptures together. Each time we read together I feel the special bond between us growing; I wouldn’t give that up for anyone.
’With all the excitement of the last few days, I wonder what a normal day will be like, or was today a normal day? Now just who was that man with Mr. Peterson, there was something about him that was familiar, I just couldn’t place it. Was it the way he moved or the way he leaned to one side when he talked to Mr. Peterson? Something strangely familiar, I just can’t quite place where I’ve seen him before. Oh well, I’ll remember sooner or later, I just hope it’s sooner, all of these mysteries are starting to drive me crazy. Just like wondering what’s in store for us tomorrow?’
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 6
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
I wasn’t any good at it, and it wasn’t very much fun.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 6
The next morning we were all meeting together in the lounge before breakfast, which after only four days felt like the normal thing to do. We were discussing yesterday's visit with Rachael and the alternate heckling strategy Mary Beth and I tried out. Suddenly, Hope remembered our discussion about the elevators.
"We were going to tell them everything," Wally confessed.
"But we were in Rachael's room, not knowing what will happen to her after she recovers, I thought it best to not discuss it there," Tony added.
"We should all be together to tell them about the school. Besides, shouldn’t this information really should come from our year leaders," Hope concluded.
"Thank you Hope, you are correct," Jenny agreed. "We should be together for this discussion, that way we can answer any questions that may come up. This is something we should have discussed before now; however this has been a very crazy weekend."
"That's for sure," Aaron agreed. "Anyway, being that we're the youngest students here, we aren't involved in some of what goes on. I guess the administration feels we're too young to understand. They keep forgetting that we’re also the sharpest. We’ve made certain discoveries on our own."
"You bet we did! What do they think we are, stupid?" Wally complained.
"Easy Wally," Jenny cautioned. "Getting upset again won't get us anywhere. His sentiment is shared by many of us. Let us explain."
The next fifteen minutes were alarmingly informative. Over the last five months, different students from year A had seen and heard enough to come to some startling speculations. Most of their speculations were centered around a small group of students, year D and above. Speculation aside they have enough, possibly valid, information to form no conclusions, only enough to cause one to think. First, Deanna, who likes to sleep with her curtains open, reported having observed on three separate occasions one of the schools small vans disappear behind the upper year dorms, sitting there for about five minutes before re-emerging; it would then disappear over the mountains to the north. Second, they heard that, before the last field trip, several students knew far enough in advance, that they had assumed their alternate gender identities a day before the ‘no changes’ announcement was made. Third, occasionally, members of the same small group of students, would be seen suspiciously, going into, or coming out of an elevator. When year A asked the question about using the elevators themselves, they were told that using the stairs was part of the schools physical education program. Lastly, and perhaps most significantly, Jenny had been able to determine that a small group of students, perhaps six to eight, have a unique bond between them. How she got close enough to gather that information she wouldn’t say.
The exact purpose of the group isn't known by year A, but the more questions they asked, the more they learned to ... not ask questions. All they are certain of is, that the group exists, they know about things before they happen, they appear to receive special training, and … when the school has 'Freaky Friday', none of the group can be identified. Their makeup skills are that good.
"Jenny, is Kimberley from year F, part of that group?" I asked.
"We have positively identified only two members of the 'Mystery Group', as we call them," Jenny confirmed. "Where as Kimberley has not been confirmed as one of them, she is on the ‘suspected to be a member’ list. Why do you ask?"
"Well, when Mary Beth and I requested some help with makeup for the Halloween Ball, we were told that some assistance had already been arranged. Kimberley did our makeup that night, I was just curious," I explained.
'That explains a lot. What Kimberley told me in the restroom is starting to make sense. I know that I can't tell everyone else what she said, that would confirm their suspicion. I will have to tell Mary Beth. I'm still not sure what it has to do with me being a munchkin, or someone named Sally, but Kimberley is part of that puzzle. I wonder if she will talk to me about it. I wonder if Mary Beth and I are going to be part of the mystery group. I wonder when I'm going to start coming up with more answers than questions.'
During breakfast, my PDA beeped. The thing that was unusual about it was that Mary Beth's PDA beeped at the same time. We discovered that our French class has been moved up forty-five minutes, permanently. I guess there’ll be no more visiting with our friends in year F, at least not between breakfast and French. Ellen, who was our visiting psychiatrist for the day, indicated that she was having a hard time working some time into our schedules for her to see us. It seems that Mary Beth and I are the two busiest students in year A. Well goodness me, just how lucky can we be?
We decided on Tuesday and Thursday, between dinner and choir practice, for our standing appointment times with Ellen. Sometimes we will meet with her together and sometimes separately, but always on Tuesday and Thursday, for the next couple of months or until there is less stress on us and everything settles down.
"Bonjour, Mosieur Rusty," we chorused, as we entered the classroom.
"And Bonjour to you," he replied with a smile. "We didn't cover that greeting the last time we met, did we?"
"No. I found an English to French dictionary on the network and looked it up," I confessed.
"Well now, going out of your way to enhance your education. I 'm proud of you. Can I assume that was in addition to practicing yesterday's lessons?" Rusty inquired.
"Oh yes, we practiced what we covered yesterday, three different times," Mary Beth confirmed. Downheartedly she continued, "I'm afraid we don't sound very good."
"That's all right Mary Beth; right now we need to concentrate on the words and pronunciation. We'll worry about your tone and the quality of your accent later."
"Rusty, may I ask you a question," I asked.
"Of course Matilda."
'Let’s see, how do I word this so it doesn't appear like I'm fishing for information' ...
"Well, I was just wondering, why you change our class time?"
"I didn't change the time! I received a notice of the change last night. Why, is there a problem with starting this early?"
"No, no problem, I was just wondering."
'No problem at all, I'm just really curious as to the reason why.'
"Shall we get started then?" he asked.
After a quick review of yesterday's material, we jumped right into today's lesson. About halfway through our two and a half hour class, Rusty suggested we take a short break. Even though I stopped in the restroom earlier, I didn't want to have to try and stifle the need later. The rest of class time seemed to fly by.
Mary Beth and I were going down to the main floor when both PDA's beeped. Checking them revealed another change in both schedules. My half an hour each day with RJ is now an hour and fifteen minutes. Mary Beth now has a twice a week voice lesson with Mrs. T; oddly enough, it is at the same time I’m with RJ.
"So much for forty-five minutes of free time," Mary Beth commented.
"I know what you mean! As busy as we are, I don't know when I'll be able to spend any serious time figuring out how to get the information we know about Bart, into the right hands. I've been working on it, but working on the problem for only ten minutes at a time is going to take me forever."
"Do you really think you'll find someone that will do something to keep Bart from hurting any more kids?"
"I don't know Mary Beth. I just know we have to try, if we don't try to stop him, we're worse than he is."
"But there's just the two of us, and we're only ten. Who's going to listen to us? Better yet, who's going to stand up against Bart's dad? I don't know what Bart's dad told our old principal, but he told all the teachers to stay away from Bart."
"I know all of that," I sadly agreed. "I also know I have to try. If I can't find a way of getting the legal system to stop him, I'll just have to explore some other options."
"What do you mean … other options? If the legal system won't do anything, what other options are there?"
"Well, one option would be to search into Bart's background, try to find someone or something that Bart and his dad are afraid of. I mean, if they can use fear and intimidation to get what they want, maybe we can use the same thing to get what we want."
There was a long pause before Mary Beth quietly asked, "Matilda, remind me again ... what is it that we want? I mean, are we after revenge, or justice, or what?"
"A part of me wants revenge. I mean, when I first saw Rachael laying in the hospital with both her arms and legs in casts, I swore to myself that someday whoever did that would live to regret what they had done. Of course, that was in the heat of the moment, without thought, or thinking of the consequences. Today, thinking clearly, and after a couple of visits with Ellen, I know that revenge, while being the motive for a lot of people, serves no worthwhile purpose. Obviously, Bart can't do anything to us here, so, we could just pretend that he doesn't exist and forget about everything he did. There are a couple of problems with trying to forget; one, you're in this wheelchair, two, Rachael is in the hospital, and three, we weren't the only ones that Bart picked on."
"You're right! - There were so many of us on Bart's hit list. Who do you think he's picking on now?"
"Being that he can't find me, Bart will select a new favorite target. My guess would be either Walter Rivers, or Sierra Walker.
"Little Wally, in Mrs. Chuggs third grade class, or Sierra, in Miss Jennings class?" Mary Beth thought aloud. After a pause and a sigh she added, "You're right, as usual, something must be done to stop Bart from hurting other kids. He's probably picking on Sierra, and her friends. Bart always did get a kick out of showing off little girl's panties to his gang, especially if the little girl is still in them. Okay Matilda, you do what ever you have to do, Bart must be stopped. Let me know what I can do to help."
"You know I will. After all, we’re in this together. Come on," I said as we resumed our journey, "we're late; RJ will wonder where we are."
"Good morning Matilda, I assume this is Mary Beth," RJ greeted as we entered. "I was getting worried, you're fifteen minutes late."
"I'm sorry, we um, lost track of the time," I explained.
"No harm done, we do have a lot to accomplish today, so let’s get started. I think we should start with Mary Beth's PDA; then she can be off. I know that Mrs. Taylor is expecting her."
"I do have an appointment with Mrs. T, but how did you know?" Mary Beth asked.
"Do you really need to ask that question Mary Beth?" I exclaimed. "Where do we keep track of our schedule?"
"On our PDA's," she answered.
"And our PDA's are linked to the school’s network. RJ has access to every computer and PDA on the system. I'm sure he checked both our schedules before he changed mine."
"Oh, you're right, I didn't think of that," she confessed.
"Now that we have established my knowledge of your schedule," RJ acknowledged. "Shall we take care of your upgrade, so we don't keep Mrs. Taylor waiting any longer than we have to? May I please have your PDA?"
Mary Beth surrendered her PDA. RJ quickly uploaded its contents to the network, verifying that any last minute changes or recently entered data would be saved. Next, he removed a new PDA from a box in his desk, powered it up and entered what appeared to be a security code. The screen displayed a twenty-four character number, mostly numeric but there were many alpha characters as well. Turning to the computer on his desk, he accessed a server I didn't recognize. In the folder '2012' he accessed the folder 'Mary Beth', scrolling down to 'PDA Model' he replaced 'Edinburgh 110' with 'Silicon Valley 218'. The six digit ID number was replaced with the twenty-four character number from the PDA. The last thing he did was to open a window called 'Administrator Encryption' where he keyed in a two-line phrase. When he hit enter, the window disappeared and all the data, with the exception of Mary Beth's name, changed into unreadable characters.
Turning to me, he smiled and asked, "Did you follow all of that Matilda?"
"Well, if you're asking if I could duplicate everything you just did, not at this moment," I confessed. "But if you give me some time ..."
"I'm just pulling your leg; you're not supposed to do everything that I do. Otherwise you'd be teaching me, instead of me teaching you," RJ chuckled.
'Now I'm confused, RJ knows I can get into the system, he doesn't say anything while I'm watching him setup Mary Beth's new PDA. Then he asked me if I could duplicate what he did, knowing that I'll take that as a personal challenge. Next he tells me that I'm not supposed to do what he does, as if I shouldn’t accept the challenge. So, am I supposed to figure this out or not? Maybe he's detected my attempts to get outside the schools system and this is some kind of game of his to distract me. Maybe ...'
"You hoo, Matilda," RJ interrupted my thoughts. "I'd like you to show me exactly how you got into the server root files with your PDA, keystroke by keystroke. We didn't have the time to go over it thoroughly yesterday."
I assumed he’d finished with Mary Beth and she left, while I had been so completely absorbed in my own thoughts. "Speaking of time, did you arrange for our French class schedule to be changed so we'd have more time?"
"No, I don’t have anything to do with the scheduling of classes, except mine of course. I was looking at your schedule this morning, trying to find us more time. When I discovered that your French class had been moved up, I thought I'd take advantage of that change. Is there a problem with making this your regular time?"
"No, no problem at all, as long as you speak French. In about two weeks Mary Beth and I should have learned enough to change from all English to mostly French."
“Parden je. Mon Francais n’est pas bon?”
I wasn’t sure what RJ said, but his use of French, as well as his smile, told me that my class would indeed continue.
"I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “but I simply couldn’t resist that. Of course, I speak French and I will be going with you to Toronto and Quebec. I usually go on all the field trips. However, like you, I also speak another language '1 0 0 1', with that I can go anywhere in the world, tracking down almost any information we need. Now then, let's take it step by step ..."
I spent the next forty-five minutes explaining what I did each time I tried to access the system and how I was blocked by RJ's security. He also wanted to know what I learned from each failed attempt. I was up to Saturday afternoon, when our time was up for the day.
"Matilda, I'm impressed and discouraged," RJ admitted.
I giggled as I inquired, "How can you be impressed and discouraged at the same time?"
"I'm impressed by you and your ability to learn from each failure. Then you analyze each step and logically plan your next step. Then again, I'm depressed, because of how predictable my security measures appear to be."
"Sorry about that," I replied timidly.
"Don't be sorry, I'm actually excited. It means we both have some learning to do. We'll continue this tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"
"That works for me, assuming someone doesn't change my schedule again," I answered with a grin.
I sent Mary Beth a note, asking her location. She replied almost immediately, telling me that she was waiting for me, on the main floor, about to go outside. She had decided to wait for me, as it had started snowing again.
I collected Mary Beth and we went to lunch. Following lunch, we went to see Rachael, taking with us the final third of The Black Sheep. That evening, after dinner, we went for our first scheduled appointment with Ellen.
We had to rush to choir practice, as we were running late again. Ellen said that she'd send a note to Mrs. T, apologizing for keeping us so long.
Choir practice went well. Of course, I didn't like where Mrs. T decided to place me. I mean, after all I am the shortest student here, but to stick me way out on the end where everyone can see me, I mean ... geeze. Can't I just hide in the back some place, at least until my silly body decides to grow a bit more? Well, there two good things about standing way out here; first, I can finally see Mrs. T without having to peek around someone else, and of course, I can see most of the empty seats as well, like looking at empty seats is fun or something, (sarcastic grin). The other thing that's good about standing on the end is that I get the chance to talk with some of the older students. Edward one of the year leaders for year G seems to really care about helping the younger students, not at all like the older students at my old school. Edward said that all his friends call him Ed and that I should too. He's really a neat guy ... I hope I didn't offend him when I told him that. Oh well, he was dressed male, so it should have been okay.
After choir practice Mary Beth and I went back to our rooms, practiced the other songs for a little while, read our scriptures, said our nightly prayers and went to bed; me hugging Nellie and Mary Beth hugging me.
'It's so comforting sleeping in Mary Beth's arms, I don't know what I'd do without her. I wonder if any of the other students sleep with their study partner. Probably not, I guess I'm still too much of a child. Well, some day I'll outgrow the need of having Mary Beth in my bed. I'm a little glad that she was crying that first night in the hospital; it gave me an excuse to not be alone. I never realized how much I'd miss my home and family. I'm sure Mary Beth feels the same way. At least we're here for each other. I guess that today has been as close to a normal day as possible, if you consider how hectic the last few days have been.'
* * *
The next day after dinner we were all sitting around in the lounge. Mary Beth and I were practicing our French while Aaron and about five others were working through different parts of the design process. We planned to join them when we finished. The rest of the group spent their free time pursuing various forms of entertainment.
Surprising everyone, there was a knocked at the lounge door. Tina, being seated closest to the door, went to see who it was that wished admittance. "Bonjour Mosieur Peterson, Entré S'il Vous Plaá®t.”
"Merci beaucoup, Tina," he thanked her. Turning to face everyone, he announced loudly, "Ladies and gentlemen, I have a surprise for you. If you would all please accompany me?" With that, he motioned to the door with both hands.
Everyone was stunned by Mr. Peterson's sudden arrival, and even more by his unexpected announcement. There was no movement and not a sound for several moments. I think I awoke first, asking as I rose, "Will we need our coats?"
"No, no coats needed. If you'll just follow me," he added with a smile.
I circled behind Mary Beth and started for the door as Mr. Peterson opened it. Everyone else slowly returned from the land of human statues and began to follow along. Mr. Peterson led us into the hall, then down to the elevator that Mary Beth and I have been using to go up to our rooms.
After everyone gathered together, Mr. Peterson explained why we were there. "Because of your willingness to help someone in need and because of the space you'll need to accomplish your task, special consideration and arrangements have been made. You have all been granted access to this elevator. Your thumbprint on the control panel is required for access. Matilda, would you and Mary Beth take about half of the year down one level?”
Mary Beth looked at me funny. “Down one level?” I asked, making sure I’d heard correctly. Mary Beth and I had used this elevator several times during the last couple of days. The control panel had only three floor options; the upper floor, middle floor, and the main floor. There wasn’t a button to go down to anything below the main floor.
“That's correct, is there a problem?” Mr. Peterson asked. He could plainly see the puzzlement in our expressions.
"No sir, no problem at all," I replied. He obviously knew something I didn't.
Mary Beth placed her right thumb against the reader, there was a small hum, followed by the doors opening and we went inside. Eight others followed us into the elevator. The control panel had been changed; ‘B1’ was now an option. Mary Beth looked as surprised as I did. As the doors closed, I reached over and pressed the B1 button.
For the first time, I spent some time really examining the elevator’s control panel; the overall size, the arrangement of the floor buttons, and the placement of the Emergency, Door Open, and Door Closed buttons. My conclusion was that there is space for two additional basement levels. The question for me to find an answer to is; do those levels exist?
We reached the desired location and the doors opened. The others made a hasty exit, followed by me pushing Mary Beth. We all stood together in a small hall, if you wanted to call it that, as the doors closed and the elevator started back up.
As we made our exit from the elevator, we made a left turn, and went about ten feet, where our progress was stopped by a set of double doors, with a large glass windows. That was it; there wasn't anything else in the hall, well, except the smell of fresh paint. Oh, there was one other thing; above the double doors was a sign 'Year A Workshop'.
We only waited for a few moments before the elevator doors opened again, and the rest of year A surged into the tiny hallway, accompanied by Mr. Peterson. "Welcome to the Year A Workshop," Mr. Peterson announced. Looking around, he asked, "Abigail, being that you're next to the doors, would you mind placing your thumb on the control pad, to the right of the doors."
Abbey did as requested, the doors slid open and the lights came on.
"Thank you, and now if everyone would step inside? This door, like the elevator, has been programmed to respond to your thumbprints. Like the year A lounge, this workshop now belongs to you students. I believe that we've provided the tools for you to complete your project. If you find there's something else you need, all you need to do is ask me or send me a note. As for moving the components of your current project down here, I'll leave that up to you. Are there any questions?"
Looking around, and making some rough calculations, our workshop had a square footage equal to about half of one floor of the dormitory building. Near the doors were chairs and small tables, enough for everyone to sit comfortably, along with several rollaround white boards. Next, on one side of the room, were six or eight workbenches with a shelf above. Each shelf contained an assortment of gadgets. I had no idea what they were. On the other side of the room, were the same number of tall tables with thick wooden tops and assorted hand tools, on the shelf underneath. At the far end, was a collection of power tools. I recognized the table saw, the band saw, and the wood lathe. I wasn't familiar with the rest of the equipment. There was one other door leaving the workshop. Given that it had a plaque with both of the universal symbols, a male image and a female image, it had to be a restroom.
I guess that everyone was as shocked as I was, being that no body came up with any questions, well, at least there weren’t any worth remembering.
"Before I leave, I need to make sure everyone understands a couple of things. First, the use of this workshop is a privilege that you've earned; I will be very disappointed if you force me to revoke that privilege. Second, on the electronic workbenches, you will find a collection of test equipment and soldering equipment. The test equipment isn't considered dangerous, the soldering equipment can be. Christina, being the electronic specialist, will be responsible for teaching you how to use the equipment. Third, and probably most important, there is a large selection of power tools in this room. Where the soldering equipment can cause severe burns, the power tools can take off a finger, a hand, or an arm in a fraction of a second and without warning. Where is Hope?"
She slowly raised a hand. "Oh there you are. Hope, under the direction of Mr. Williams, is the safety director for this shop. No one is permitted to use a power tool until she has cleared you on that tool. Hope, Mr. Williams is expecting you tomorrow after breakfast, to go over the safety procedures that you'll be teaching everyone else.
"This wasn't meant to scare you, only to emphasize the importance of remembering to be safe and to be aware of those around you. We want them to be safe as well. Having one full time resident in my hospital is enough; I don't want to see any of you taking up residency there as well. Any questions now?"
After a few moments, Hope raised her hand.
"Yes, Hope."
"Am I supposed to teach everyone how to use the electronic stuff?"
"No, Christina will teach everyone how to run the electronic test equipment and the soldering equipment. You are responsible for teaching everyone how to properly, and safely operate the power tools. However, as the safety director, you are responsible for keeping track of who has been checked out on what equipment, both the power tools and the electronic. Does anyone else have a question?"
"Do we have to learn to run everything?" Niki asked.
"Of course not. Everything here is voluntary," Mr. Peterson replied with a chuckle. "You are free to learn and use any tool or equipment here. If you prefer, you can stick to the design phase and let someone else do the hands on work. I do insist that you be safe and get the proper instruction before using any equipment. Anyone else have a question?"
"What about supplies, buttons, circuit boards, things like that?" Aaron wanted to know.
Mr. Peterson went to the large double door cabinet against the wall between the workbenches. Opening the doors revealed a small electronic department store. Smiling he inquired, "Any other questions?"
There weren't any questions; I think most of us were in shock. I was astounded that Mr. Peterson would go to such lengths, giving us access to everything here, just so we could help Rachael. I couldn't help myself as I started crying.
"Matilda, what's wrong?" Mr. Peterson asked, as he gently dropped down to one knee.
Through my tears, I managed to reply, "Mr. Peterson, I can't believe that you arranged for all this, just to help Rachael."
Mr. Peterson gently put an arm around my shoulders, "This school takes care of its students. You've been here, off and on, for sometime now. You must know by now that the mental and physical safety of our students is our first priority."
"But Rachael isn't a student," I mumbled.
"You're right Matilda, Rachael isn't a student here, but you are." He gave me a hug, then stood up. "As it's almost time for choir practice, I'll leave you to get ready." With that, he slipped out the doors and into the elevator.
As I was still crying, Misa and Hope surrounded me, to offer their support, as well as taking me back to the lounge. I remember sitting on a couch, with Mary Beth hugging me from one side while Jenny sat on the other, holding my hand. I also remember Jenny sending everyone else to choir practice, telling them that we'd be there when I was ready.
I'm not sure how long we sat that way, because I wasn't paying attention. What was I doing besides crying and muttering? Was I conscious or had I lapsed into an unconscious state as I did on that first night with Nellie?
Oh, I was conscious, I was aware of everything; I was, however, a bit preoccupied with a little soul searching. All right, I was doing a lot of soul searching. I was reviewing my life from as far back as I could remember. I was searching for clues, little signs, pieces I'd overlooked that would help me to understand why everyone thinks I'm somehow special.
'I remember being upset when Rachael was born, I wanted a little brother to play with, Mom explained how special it was to have a little sister and how she would need a big brother to protect her. Sorry Mom, wrong on both counts; I 'm a failure in the big brother department, but as her big sister we've had a great time together. As for protecting my little sister, I kind of messed up there as well. I'm the one that needed protecting; good thing for me Mary Beth was around to protect me. I've always thought you had to be big and strong in order to protect someone else, but not any more. Being small and appearing innocent, mixed with being smart does have some advantages. I can use my knowledge to help and protect those that need it. I may not be responsible for Bart and the other bullies picking on those who can't defend themselves, but I am responsible for trying to stop them. I'm certainly no superhero, but I do have some special abilities and it's time to develop them and use them to help others. Oh no, where did that thought come from? The Mystical Munchkin, a Superhero. Hee, Hee, haw, haw,’ “Haw, haw, haw,” I was suddenly came out of my thinking spell, laughing.
Mary Beth was looking at me strangely, her expression said, “Matilda, have you lost your mind?” Jenny was still holding my hand, smiling.
"Hello," I greeted them with a smile. "What time is it?"
"It’s still early enough that we can make it to most of choir practice, if you're up to it," Aaron replied, from somewhere behind us.
"Oh, hi, Aaron, I didn't know you were still here," I commented. "Shall we go join in the singing?"
"Are you sure you're up to it?" asked a very concerned Mary Beth.
"She is fine, Mary Beth," Jenny reported. "She was upset, trying to figure out why people treat her, as she refers to it, special. She did not black out this time, she tuned out. That is, she blocked out all outside stimuli and devoted all of her conscious self to resolving what she considered to be the most immediate problem. Her resolution is unique to say the least."
"Jenny, have you been holding my hand all this time?" She responded simply, with a smile and a nod of her head.
Remembering the conversation we'd had at the Halloween Ball, concerning her abilities I quietly, but calmly asked, "Jenny, have you been in contact with anyone else for this length if time?"
Jenny shook her head as she let go of my hand.
"Matilda, what does Jenny holding your hand have to do with anything?" Mary Beth wanted to know.
"Mary Beth, remember what I told you Monday morning, about Jenny's abilities and how they work?"
"Mary Beth," Jenny spoke, before Mary Beth had a chance, "Matilda is wondering if I can read her thoughts."
"Well?" I asked, being that Jenny hadn't answered the question.
"No Matilda, I cannot read your mind."
"Okay, if you can't read my mind, how did you know what question I wanted to ask?"
"Your feelings changed rapidly, as they frequently do. I felt that you were puzzled by something or felt strongly about a question. Wanting to know if I could read your thoughts seemed like the most logical question. At least considering the questions you already asked."
Laughing, Aaron jumped in, "Give up, Matilda; you have no idea how hard it is to keep a secret from her."
"I thought that study partners aren't supposed to have secrets?" Mary Beth asked Aaron, but she was looking at me.
'I wonder if Jenny and Aaron are ...'
"Oh, it’s not like that," Aaron clarified, "I've been helping Jenny develop her abilities by concentrating on something. She reads my feelings throughout the day, trying to figure out what I'm thinking about. It did take her a long time to figure out that I wanted a doll to sleeee, um ... for my special friend, instead of a teddy bear."
Jenny was giggling. When she stopped, she finished Aaron’s sentence, “Aaron is just a little embarrassed to have others know that he sleeps with his special friend. He really should not be embarrassed, as almost everyone here does.”
'That answers one question. I guess I'll have to be extra careful about guarding my feelings about Mary Beth, and the fact that we sleep together. That's probably something that only a few of the students would be doing. We'll just keep it quiet, no reason for anyone else to know.'
"Well, if were going to make it to choir practice before it's over, we'd better get going," I said, changing the subject. I quickly stood up and arranged the blanket in the wheelchair for Mary Beth.
Mary Beth got up from the couch and stood next to the wheelchair. Glumly, she asked, "How many days have I been in this, this thing?"
"Today is only the second day my friend," I confirmed softly.
"Great, only twenty-eight days to go," she moaned.
"Mary Beth, is there a problem with using a wheelchair for a month?" Jenny asked.
Mary Beth looked at the chair for a moment, took a deep breath, then she sat down and wrapped the blanket around her legs, "No, no problem, I just feel a little silly being pushed around like a baby. Come on, let’s get this land yacht moving," she ended with a smile.
I was going to offer her a lollipop if she was a good girl, but seeing the look of despair on her face I knew that now wasn't the time for teasing. Instead, I gave her my best 'I'm proud of you' smile as I gently patted her shoulder. I moved around behind and pushed towards the door and choir practice.
* * *
Thursday arrived without any bells, whistles, drum-rolls, or fanfare. Then again, why should there be anything unusual about today. It's just another day to everyone else; it's only special to Mary Beth and me. Today is our one-week anniversary. It’s been only one week but it seems like we've been here for a month. Looking back, I can say without any reservation, that this week had been the wildest roller coaster ride, emotionally, as well as the most eventful; week, of my short life. Mary Beth and I talked for a while about everything that's happened this last week. As we talked about the events of the last seven days, it felt more like a dream, although some parts almost seemed more like a nightmare. Talking about it made it almost seem like they didn't really happen, or even that they weren't important events, until you take into account that we're just a couple of ten-year-old girls. Well, I'm a girl where it counts, anyway. Time passed too quickly and soon we were going down to meet with the rest of the year.
When we arrived in the lounge, I noticed that all of the keyboard project material was missing. A quick question confirmed my suspicion that they'd been taken down to the workshop.
When we sat down to breakfast I was beginning to think the rest of the week would slide by without any more excitement. I mean after all, how much can you pack into one week?
'I suppose I'll have to stop asking myself these kinds of questions. Every time I do, the universe decides to show me just how wrong I can be.’
Mr. Peterson got up after everyone was settled; the five pink cuties from year C, along with their escorts, being the last to be seated.
"Good morning, everyone. I have two announcements this morning. First, there have been rumors circulating for several days that a committee of students will be planning our next field trip. For the record, this is correct. A student committee has been selected, and the students involved have been notified, so if you haven't been asked before now, don't worry about it. They will be planning the social activities for our next field trip. However, the time and location are not yet known.
Second item of business, it has been a while since we've done anything crazy, so I'm declaring tomorrow 'Freaky Friday'," Mr. Peterson was forced to pause because of the cheering from about half the assembly. "Settle down please ... Thank you. You all know the rules by now so I won't repeat them. Matilda, Mary Beth; Jenny or Aaron can fill you in. However, I'm changing it just a little, I want to see you all turn things up a notch. Therefore, the uniform of the day is 'Evening Wear'. Everyone is to be dressed as if you were going to attend one of our concerts. If you want haircuts or new a style, get your appointments made before we inform the older years. Are there any questions about the change?"
"There isn't any androgynous ‘Evening Wear’ in our closets," Niki reminded. "What should we do after dinner?"
"That does present a problem, let me think. ... I guess I'll have to specify the rules after all. That way everyone will know what I expect, being that I'm changing things. For everyone that normally presents themselves as feminine, you will appear as masculine during the day, changing to feminine before dinner and for the balance of the evening. Those who normally present themselves as masculine, will do likewise, only in reverse; that is feminine during the day and masculine in the evening. Let's see now, for those who appear androgynous, feminine until lunch, masculine from lunch to dinner. After dinner, you are free to choose how you wish to appear, masculine, feminine, or androgynous. As for androgynous evening wear, I'd recommend a pants suit of the gender of your choice, to which I would add a turtleneck blouse or shirt, with a gender-neutral necklace. Does that sound like an acceptable compromise to everyone? And did anyone write that down, so I can give the same instructions to years D through H when I see them?"
Mr. Peterson's second question brought forth a round of giggles from almost everyone in attendance. His first question was only met with nods of acceptance. As for myself, I wasn't sure if I needed to participate, because, well ... I knew what life was like as a boy and I knew I wanted to be a girl. After all, I'm Matilda by choice, and that's all I want to be. Before saying anything to Mary Beth or the others, I decided to discuss the matter with Ellen during tonight's regular appointment.
"Good evening," Ellen greeted us as we entered her office. "How has your day been?"
As I was closing the door, Mary Beth almost jumped out of her chair, both hands in a fist and on her hips. She was almost yelling as she demanded, “Ellen, do I have to dress up like a boy?"
'Where on earth did that come from? She didn't say anything, or give me any indication that she was upset. I thought I would have the biggest issue to resolve, changing back into Matt. I guess I'm not as observant as I thought I was.'
"Matilda, are you going to join us," Ellen called out, interrupting my thoughts.
"Sorry, just thinking," I replied, as I joined Mary Beth on one of the couches. Ellen was seated in her customary chair.
"Now then Mary Beth," Ellen started, "what exactly is the problem."
"Well ... I'm a girl and I like being a girl. I don't want to be a boy. I've never even thought of being a boy," she complained.
"That’s wonderful Mary Beth. I have a question, who said you should be a boy?" Ellen asked.
"I guess nobody said I should be a boy, but ..."
Ellen interrupted her, "That’s correct, no one has said anything about you being a boy. You are free to choose to be what you wish. As for myself, I was born female and I'm very happy with who I am. Now let's take a look at our friend Matilda, here. She was born with a male body, but her mind is female. She can choose to represent herself as male or female. She can, if she chooses, change back and forth any time she desires, or any time it is appropriate to do so."
"That's all well and good for Matilda, but I'm not her. I like being a girl. I don't see why I should have to dress up like a boy," Mary Beth argued.
"Mary Beth," Ellen continued softly, "there are opposites in every aspect of life; night and day, right and wrong, masculine and feminine. As with the rest of life, there are opposites in our personalities. Everyone displays the different sides of their personalities, usually without being aware of the differences. By having activities, such as Freaky Friday, we help our students realize what actions are perceived as masculine and feminine. By understanding your expressions and actions, as well as experiencing a little of life from the opposite side of the fence, you are better equipped to make the choices that will affect every aspect of your life, not only how you wish to present yourself, but also how you treat others. Does this explanation help you understand?"
"I think so … It sounds a little like the moccasin thing," Mary Beth agreed, trying to relate what Ellen had said to something she understood.
Ellen looked a little puzzled by Mary Beth's reference.
I explained. "We're told it’s an old Indian saying, but I'm not really sure, I suppose not everyone has heard it. Anyway it goes something like, ‘to truly understand how someone feels, you must first walk a mile in their moccasins.’"
"Yes, that's an interesting concept, also, a non-clinical way of explaining the basic idea. Yes, I like it. I guess we can all learn from each other."
"So what you're saying is, I have to dress and act like a boy, just so I can learn how the other half feels?" Mary Beth asked softly.
"That's pretty much correct. Think of this as a way to get in touch with the other side of your personality," Ellen explained further. “It’s also a way for you to better understand how other people feel, people … like Matilda. Most transgendered people have to dress in a way opposite to the way they feel about themselves. Some of them never have the opportunity to express themselves as the person they truly believe themselves to be.”
"Ellen, I think you answered Mary Beth's question, even if she didn't like the answer. I was wondering, because I've experienced life as a boy, such as it was, do I need to change back into Matt for the day?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Oh Matilda, this will be an even better experience for you, than it will be for Mary Beth. Your past life as Matt wasn't a normal, positive, growing experience. I want you to forget about your past; Matt doesn't exist any more. You did a wonderful job of creating a feminine name for yourself, to fit your new life. Now, I want you to create a name for the masculine side of your personality. You refer to August 15 as Matilda's birthday. What you need to do is to think of this as the birth of your new male self. Perhaps you should consider a different hairstyle, maybe even a different color. I know it's late, but I have a little pull with Amanda, and I know she'd like seeing you again. What do you think?"
"You mean there are some good things about being a boy?"
"Yes Matilda, there are some good things about being a boy," Ellen affirmed, with a giggle.
"Well, I still don't think this is a good idea. It's really no fun being teased ..."
"Matilda," Ellen interrupted, " Has anyone abused or ridiculed you about your size, or because you're smart?"
"Well, no."
"Has anyone said or done anything to make you feel bad about you dressing the way you want?"
"No."
"And no one will! Your life with us will be nothing like it was before. Everything you've experienced this week should be proof of that."
"Well, I had been thinking that this week has been more than a little crazy," I confessed.
"Would that be a good crazy, or a bad crazy?" Ellen questioned.
"Hmm, I guess that would be a good crazy," I softly replied.
"Yeah? Well, I haven't decided yet," Mary Beth added, looking at her wheelchair.
"She isn't happy about the wheelchair," I told Ellen softly.
"Well," Ellen looked sympathetically at Mary Beth, "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that. When it comes to the health and physical well-being of the students, nobody overrules Dr. Harris. The only advice I can offer is; when you feel bad about being temporarily confined to a wheelchair, think about how our friend Rachael feels about laying in bed all day. What would she give for the option to use a wheelchair, having her friends take her from place to place?"
"I know I'm lucky that Bart didn't do more damage. And I know I need to think about others and how they feel. I’m trying to be positive, but … it's just that it’s ... well, hard to remember sometimes," Mary Beth admitted.
"I understand," Ellen said, with a smile.
I responded to Mary Beth's confession with a hug.
"All right, have we taken care of your concerns about tomorrow?" Ellen asked.
Mary Beth and I looked at each other, I still had my arms around her. Trying to read each other’s thoughts, it didn't work. Mary Beth offered half of a smile and I smiled back. We turned towards Ellen and nodded.
"Excellent! I look forward to meeting two fine young men in the morning. After you’ve decided on a male name to use, remember to update your school profile. That way everyone will know who you are. Now, are you okay with your hair, or do I need to make some arrangements with Amanda?"
"I know I'm going to need some help," Mary Beth confessed. "I have no idea how to make all this hair look like it should be on a boy’s head, and there's no way I'm cutting it all off."
"Not to worry. Amanda does amazing things with hair. You've seen how long Beca's hair is and how handsome Joseph's hair looks? Just some tricks of how to style hair," Ellen explained, as she produced her PDA and started tapping away. "How about you, Matilda, need some help with a new look?"
"What do you think Mary Beth, how would I look in short black hair?"
"Yuck, no way, that would be horrible on you. I think your natural hair color is perfect for you. In fact, I can't wait for your hair to grow out so you don't need to wear a wig anymore. We just need to work on your male personality."
"I guess it's settled then, only one appointment is needed. I'd like to go along though," I replied to Ellen's question.
"Very well, I’ll arrange for one appointment and one visitor. Amanda will send you a note, letting you know when she can see you. Are there any other issues we should discuss?"
"I have a question," Mary Beth replied, almost in a whisper. "Do I have to wear boy’s underwear?"
Before Ellen could answer, I added my question, "And what about being, um … tucked?"
"To answer both your questions, that's up to you. However, most boys don’t wear panties, and most boys don’t know what it means to be tucked."
‘Does that mean yes or no? I think I’m going to have to ask Ellen if she has a magic decoder ring to go along with her answers, some of them are so hard to understand.’
"Anything else Mary Beth?" I asked.
"No, I guess not. I'm still not sure I like the idea, but at least I feel better about it," she replied.
"We’d better get going then, we're late for choir practice again," I stated as I got up and circled around behind the wheelchair.
"Oh-my-goodness, is it that late all ready?" Ellen exclaimed. "Mrs. Taylor is going to get a little cross with me if I keep you this late every time we meet. I'd better send her another note of apology. I look forward to seeing two young men in the morning."
"Um, yeah," Mary Beth replied.
"Good night Ellen, thank you." I guess I was feeling a little better.
Halfway through choir practice, I felt my PDA vibrate; it's a good thing it vibrates along with the beep on an incoming message, I never would have heard a beep. Amanda's note told us to meet her in the salon immediately after practice.
"Matilda, it's so good to see you again," Amanda said, as we entered the salon. "And this young lady must be Mary Beth."
"I must be," Mary Beth replied with a giggle.
"Why don't you have a seat in the first chair and we'll see what there is to work with," Amanda requested. "Matilda why don't you hop into the second chair? That way you can watch what I'm doing. Mary Beth may need another pair of hands and eyes, adjusting things in the morning."
Amanda undid the ribbons that held up Mary Beth's hair, letting it fall to its full length. "My goodness, you certainly have a lot of hair. Would you like an estimate?"
Of course, I recognized the reference; Mary Beth on the other hand, rotated and looked at Amanda. I've seen her ‘are you crazy?’ look before, and I couldn’t resist the urge to giggle.
Amanda looked serious as she replied, "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? ... Dick VanDyke? ... The fair, the automatic hair-cutting machine? I can see I'm dating myself again. Oh well," Amanda sighed, as she turned Mary Beth around. "Let's start with a little trim, you really should take better care of your hair. You've got a little problem with split ends. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take off three or four inches? It would make the process of changing hairstyles a little easier.”
“How often do we have this Freaky Friday thing?” Mary Beth asked.
“Usually once a month. There are some other events from time to time just to keep things interesting,” Amanda went on.
“Um, I’ll think about it later. For right now, I like my hair this long. So what can you do with long girl’s hair that will let her look like a boy?
Amanda worked her magic; the hair that hung on the side of Mary Beth’s head was carefully combed back, then pinned, and almost woven under and into the hair on top. Everything then cascaded down the back to a single black rubber band at the back of her neck. The real trick was how she worked the hair in from the sides so it doesn’t look long. Her overall hairstyle reminded me of the Hippies from late 60’s, Mom used to show me pictures of that time.
It was well after our curfew as Mary Beth and I made our way back to our rooms. Not wanting to attract any attention, we silently made our way from the administration building, around the E and F dorm, past the G and H dorm, and finally it was a straight shot to our building. Just as we were passing the end of the G and H dorm, I heard some talking and some almost stifled laughter coming from … somewhere. I looked at Mary Beth, to see if she’d heard it as well. Silently she confirmed that what I’d heard wasn’t my imagination. After looking around and confirming that there wasn’t anyone is sight, I pointed in the direction of the back of the G and H dorm, asking if we should take a look. Mary Beth nodded her consent so I changed course and we headed for the back corner of the building. It’s a good thing that the wheels on Mary Beth’s chair don’t squeak. As we approached the corner, I stopped and Mary Beth got out of the chair, you just can’t peek around a corner from the seated position.
As we peeked around the corner, I was bending low, because I’m smaller, and Mary Beth was stretching for the high position. We saw what appeared to be four girls standing just outside the door. Their location would have kept them hidden from all the windows of our dorm as well as their own, and if we hadn’t been late getting back, there’s no way we would have heard or seen them. I recognized Suzanne as one of the four. I also recognized another one of the girls, but didn’t know her name. The other two girls I’d never seen before. As I was studying their faces, a small van approached from the other end of the building. The girls stopped talking when they noticed it; they quietly boarded the van after it came to a stop.
I moved back and motioned for Mary Beth to move as well. Quietly and apparently undetected, we made our way back to our rooms.
“Well what do you make of that?” Mary Beth asked, as soon as we were in her room.
“Obviously those four are part of the mystery group that everyone was talking about. Did you recognize any of them?” I asked.
“Of course! One of them was Suzanne. I’ve been singing next to her for three days now, I should be able to recognize her.”
As we were discussing what we’d seen, my PDA beeped. It was a note from Aaron,
“Pretty gutsy peaking around the corner
of the building. Tomorrow we’ll have to
discuss your curfew violating activities.
Get some sleep: Aaron”
“So much for staying out of trouble,” I sighed.
“At least Amanda can confirm that we were with her until 10:20.”
“Yes, but if Aaron saw us over by the other building, there’s a good chance that someone else did.”
“You don’t think Aaron will turn us in for curfew violation, do you?”
“I don’t know … He and Jenny are the year leaders and they are responsible for what goes on,” I shook my head.
“Oh well, we’ll just have to deal with that in the morning. Have you thought of a name to use?”
“I’ve been thinking about it and I think I know what name I want to use, but I figure I need your permission.”
“My permission … to use a name. Why would you need my permission?” she asked me.
“Because I wouldn’t want you to be sad or upset.”
“Now why would I be sad or up set?”
“Well, if I use the name I’m thinking of, you might be.”
“Matilda, you’re being more confusing than usual, would you stop beating up on the bushes and get to the point.”
“I was thinking, who is the kindest boy I know, someone who would help anyone, and who gives of himself without asking for anything in return …”
“I thought you didn’t want to use Matt?”
“No, I don’t want to use Matt; he was always scared and picked on by everyone. Well, almost everyone.”
“Well from my point of view, you just described the Matt that I knew. Let me think, oh, you want to use Paul Smith, the cute boy from the fifth grade?”
“Noo,” I moaned, “I said kind and giving, not cute and stuck on himself.”
“Matilda, would you just come out with it and tell who you’re talking about.”
“All right, I’m talking about Jeffery, OK? Your little brother Jeffery,” I cried out as I hid my face in my hands.
Mary Beth gently lifted my head. I was sure she’d be mad at me, as if I were making fun of her or Jeffery. When I opened my eyes, besides a tear escaping, I saw Mary Beth smiling at me.
“Now tell me, why should I be mad or upset if you use my brother’s name?”
“Because every time someone calls me Jeffery, you’ll be reminded that you can’t see you family until we leave here.”
“Matilda, I would be honored if you used Jeffery, and I know my brother would be honored as well, if he ever finds out. Remember, he is the only one in my family that accepted you.”
“You mean it won’t bother you?”
“No, of course not! You have my permission to use my brother’s name.”
I hugged my dear friend for what seemed like forever. As we separated, I gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you, Mary Beth. He is the nicest boy I know.”
“Well then, it will fit you perfectly, because you’re the nicest girl that I know. Oh, I thought you were supposed to warn me before you kissed me again,” she giggled.
“Oops! Sorry about that, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Well, we’re not in public, so I’ll let it go this time,” Mary Beth said with a grin.
“What about you, have you come up with a name to use?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, yes I have.”
“Well?”
“I’ve decided on Hunter.”
“Hunter, where did you get a name like Hunter?”
“There’s this movie that came out a while ago, about a man who wanted to help people so much, he almost didn’t graduate from medical school.”
“You’re going to have to give me a better clue than that,” I confessed.
“Kazuntite.”
I thought for a moment, “Oh, the Kazuntite Institute, Robin Williams in ‘Patch Adams’. Rather, Hunter ‘Patch’ Adams. Not bad Mary Beth, not bad at all, in fact I think it fits you perfectly.”
“Thank you Jeffery. You update our profiles, as Ellen told us to do. I’m going to get ready for bed.”
“Right away, Hunter, this will only take a moment and then I’ll be ready for bed as well. Which bed are we sleeping in tonight?”
“Well now that we’re both boys, sleeping together sounds kind of yucky.”
I knew better, but I figured if she was in a teasing mood, then I could oblige, “That’s fine, if that’s the way you feel about it,” I said sadly, as I went though the door to my room. “I guess it’ll be just Nellie and me tonight,” As I closed the door, I distinctly heard Mary Beth blowing raspberries at me. Giggling, I went into my bathroom, took care of business as I updated our profiles. I got ready for bed and loaded the scripture-reading program. I set Nellie beside me as I started reading.
I’d only read five verses when there was a knock on the door. “Entré S'il Vous Plaá®t,” I called out.
Mary Beth entered; her choice of nightwear hadn’t changed, she still likes the short baby-doll nighties.
“That’s a little on the feminine side, isn’t it Hunter,” I teased.
“Oh hush up. You’re one to talk, all covered in frills and lace. Where are we?” she asked, referring to the scriptures.
Our nightly routine completed, we crawled into my bed.
‘I still hadn’t made a decision on the issue of what to wear tomorrow, or how to wear it. I guess I’ll decide that tomorrow.’
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 7
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 7
Morning arrived, sooner than I would have liked, considering how late it was before we went to bed. After morning prayers, we went our separate ways as we prepared for what I'm sure was to be a crazy day. After my shower, I entered my closet to select my attire. Out of habit, I slipped on two pairs of panties and I was proceeding to hide my small appendage. It was then that I remembered what Ellen said, 'most boys don’t wear panties and most boys don’t know what it means to be tucked'. Reluctantly I removed the panties and put them back in the drawer. Going to the other side of my closet, I found some underwear that was intended to be worn by the male of the species.
‘Oh well, I did wear them for nine and a half years, well, most of the time. I guess wearing them for one day a month won't kill me.’
After donning a white tee shirt and briefs, I went looking for a shirt to wear with the black tux I’d found. To my surprise, I found a light blue silk shirt, not too bad, that would work. Adding the black silk tie finished off the outfit and added an extra touch of class. As I stood brushing my hair Mary Beth knocked, " Entré S'il Vous Plaá®t."
"Well now, don't you look handsome," Mary Beth, oops, Hunter, insulted me. Actually, his intent was to pay me a compliment.
"Oh, I feel silly dressed in these clothes."
"I know what you mean. This underwear is so coarse and scratchy. How did you wear them for so many years?"
"At first I wore them because I didn't know any better. Later on, when I knew better, I only wore them when I didn't have a choice. I'll enjoy wearing the blue evening gown that's in my closet, so much more than this silly tux."
"But I was going to wear the blue gown," Hunter pouted.
'It's a little funny, seeing someone that is supposed to be male, pouting like that.'
"I guess I could wear the cranberry, or my graduation gown, although, it's more of a party dress than an evening gown. By the way, boys don't pout like that."
"Oh ... Yeah, this is going to be more work than I thought," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well, we'll just forget about that, it's time to get me mummified."
After I finished with the elastic bandages, Hunter disappeared to finish getting ready.
"Jeffrey," Hunter called out. "How do you manage these buttons, they’re on the wrong side?"
"That's funny, I thought the same thing about the buttons on girl’s blouses, the first time I wore one of them," I called back.
"You know, boy’s underwear is really uncomfortable," Hunter complained as he walked back into my room. "Your choice of the silk shirt almost makes up for it though. Jeff, how do you tie a tie?"
"Come here," I giggled, as I got up from my computer. I'd been going over all the profiles of year A, learning their other names. As for the rest of the school, I'd decided to leave those for another time. "I'll take care of it for you."
"Thanks, how do they expect me to know what to do with a tie? The only thing I know how to tie is my shoes."
"When we have more time I’ll teach you, just like my Mom taught me."
"Your Mother taught you how to tie a tie? I thought your Dad would have done that. I know that my Dad taught my brothers how to tie their ties."
"When I was little, Dad always said that it was Mom's job to get us kids ready for church. So, if Mom wanted me to wear a tie, she either had to tie it for me or teach me how to do it. Which meant by the age of six, I'd learned how and was doing it myself. Do you want some help with your jacket?"
"Wow, your family sure does things differently. Yes, some help with the jacket would be nice, thank you."
"Yeah, Dad sure had some strange ideas about how life was supposed to be. I think he was about a hundred years out of date with his thinking. There you are my friend, your tie is tied, your jacket is on, your ponytail is tied low in a typical male fashion. That makes you ready to go except for one thing."
"What did I forget?"
"Well, the next time you dress as a boy ... No perfume."
"Oops! Oh well, nothing we can do about that now," Hunter grinned as he shrugged his shoulders.
"I'll bet you did that on purpose," I stated with a fake scowl. "Let me grab my coat and we can be on our way."
Hunter smiled and winked at me before replying, "I'll go get mine, meet you in my room."
Looking in my closet, I found a long mans-style overcoat, in my size of course. Removing it from the hanger, I was a young man prepared to attend a concert. The problem was I felt terrible, especially where my privates rubbed against the coarse briefs.
'It's a good thing I only have to wear this stuff until dinner. I don't remember things moving this much when I walked. I’m not sure how much of this chafing I can ignore, but if this keeps up I'm probably going to be sore for a week.'
"Hunter, I think we can leave the blanket here," I explained with a giggle, as I found him already seated. “Your pants should be enough to keep your legs warm."
"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."
After folding the blanket, I laid it on his bed. It didn't take too much coaxing to get him to change his coat, from pink with fur trim to something a little more masculine. He giggled as he said he was trying to start a new fashion trend.
We were finally on our way, down the hall to the elevator and then to the year lounge.
'Oh this is annoying, the added exertion of pushing this wheelchair has amplified the amount of rubbing. I know the briefs are the right size, but why are they so loose.'
I slowed down as we approached the lounge. "What's the matter?" Hunter asked.
"Oh, I guess I’m just a little nervous. This is the first time that anyone here has seen me with short hair."
"Am I correct in guessing that I'm the only one that has ever seen your natural hair color?"
"I think you and Beca are the only ones to have seen it."
"Well my dear Jeffrey, it's time for introductions. Let's go meet the rest of year A."
"I suppose there's no way to get out of it," I replied, with all the confidence of a jellyfish.
Hunter smiled at me and squeezed my hand.
Smiling back, I shook my head, took a deep breath, and added, "All right dear friend, business as usual, you get the door and I'll push."
"That's my girl, sorry, I mean boy. Now, let's do this with dignity, heads held high, and a big confident smile."
"Will you settle for just my head held high?"
"Oh, come on, you nut."
Hunter reached for the doorknob, pulled the door open and I wheeled him around and into the lounge.
"Welcome, Hunter," Erin and James chorused.
"Hunter, who is that cute little boy pushing your wheelchair?" Tonya asked with a giggle.
"This darling little boy can't be Jeffrey," Charlene added, also giggling.
As I was moving towards them, obviously in an agitated state, Hunter managed to grab the sleeve of my coat.
"You two have a choice to make, and I suggest that you make it quickly," Hunter cautioned them. "Option one, is to apologize immediately. Option two, would be grow a rather nasty bruise after being kicked in the shins. Option three is to repeat all of this semester’s classes, because all record of them will mysteriously disappear."
"Ah ... We didn't mean anything," Tonya replied quickly, while putting some distance between herself and the angry tyke that I’d become.
"I'm sorry too! It was just some harmless heckling," Charlene added as she backed up.
"He wouldn't really kick us, would he?" Tonya asked.
"All I know is what I heard from his sister," Hunter explained. "According to his older sister, Karen, his family was asked to leave a restaurant somewhere in Oregon, because he kicked a waitress that had called him a 'cute little tyke'."
As Hunter was talking, and holding me back, James came over and put his arms around me. I still can't explain why his arms around me had, and still have, such a calming effect, but I'm sure he sensed it. "There now Jeffrey, that's better. We are all friends here and friends don't kick each other, do they?"
"No Jenn ... Um, no James they don't. I don't know why I reacted that way. I'm usually able to control my anger better than this. I haven't been this agitated for some time. I'm sorry," I apologized to everyone. "I must be under a lot more stress than I realize."
"Jeffrey, would you please come with me?" James asked. I replied by nodding. With one arm around me, James led me into the restroom.
"Let me help you take off your coat and jacket. A little cold water in the face works wonders when it comes to momentarily relieving a little stress."
"Thank you James. I really don't know what came over me. Yesterday we were all laughing and joking around. It wouldn't have fazed me if they had said it then. I'm not sure why it bothered me just now."
"When is your next meeting with Ellen?"
"Not until next Tuesday. Do you think I should discuss this morning’s events with her?"
"Yes, you should talk with her about how you feel; or one of the other psychiatrists. You do know that if Ellen is not available you are welcome to talk with any of the psychiatrist's."
"Nobody has told me that before. I thought that because of the number of students per psychiatrist that going to another one would ... Well, I don't know, just wasn't something to do."
"Oh no, they do prefer that you talk with your assigned psychiatrist, but you can talk to any of them, if you feel the need to talk with someone. So, are you feeling well enough to go to breakfast?"
"I think so. Thanks again."
"Any time, shall we rejoin the others?"
Smiling, I nodded and we went back into the lounge. As I crossed the lounge, I started to feel uneasy once again. As soon as I stopped, the feeling went away and I was fine.
'This is really starting to drive me nuts. I walk around and I'm uneasy and agitated, I stop and it slowly goes away. I wonder if it has anything to do with presenting myself as male.'
"Hunter was just telling us about your nocturnal activities," Erin informed us, as we sat down. "Is there anything you want to add?"
I looked around nervously, "That's not something I can answer, without knowing what has already been said."
"Always the cautious one," Hunter giggled. "I told them about my late appointment, to get my hair styled for today, and that we were with Amanda Reynolds until 10:20. I also included the laughing we heard as we passed the G and H dorm, and you dragging me along while you went to investigate."
"What? I didn't drag you anywhere. I asked you if we should find out who was laughing and you agreed. Of course, my question and your response were both non verbal, but you knew what ..." It was then that I heard giggling from several others. Looking around I instantly knew what was going on, "Boy ... I swallowed that one, didn't I."
"Hook, line, and sinker." Hank called out.
Almost everyone was laughing. "I didn't know I was so predictable, I'll have to work on that," I confessed with a smile, shaking my head.
"So are we in trouble for being out after curfew?" Hunter asked.
"Not this time, but try to get an earlier appointment next time. Now that everyone has had their morning dose of laughter, except Jeffrey of course, I think it's time we all headed over for breakfast," Erin said, as she headed for the door.
We all started for the cafeteria; Hunter and I were about in the middle of the group. With each step, I became more and more uneasy. I began searching for places to hide, while looking at the faces around me. We were about halfway when I came to a stop.
'There are voices in my head, calling a name ... no they aren't in my head, the voices are around me. I slowly look around, I'm surrounded by ... other, um, children, but they don't look like children. Their faces seem familiar, but I don't recognize them. They keep calling for someone named Jeffrey. The only Jeffrey I know is Mary Beth's little brother, but I don't see him. I wonder who they're looking for? OH NO! someone is holding my hands! Why would they hold onto me like that? I can't hide if someone is holding onto my hands. I look into his eyes ... I should know him … there’s something about him that feels so familiar, like we've always been together. He's calling a different name now, it sounds like a girl's name. What is it? Maa ... Mat ... Matilda.
"Mary Beth, why are you dressed up like a boy? ... Oh wait, now I remember, we're at the Manor and its Freaky Friday, isn't it?" I asked as I looked into her eyes. She seemed to be worried about something.
"Matilda, where did you go this time?" she asked.
I looked around and saw all of year A. They all looked like they were worried about something. Suddenly James was next to me, holding one of my hands. "Matilda, please tell me what you remember," James asked as he closed his eyes.
I briefly described the events of this morning before, during, and after meeting with the rest of the year, in the lounge. I told her about the strange feelings of uneasiness I felt as we were walking towards the cafeteria. Suddenly I stopped talking as everything came back to me. I remembered everything including causing all my friends to worry. I also knew why I'd acted so strangely. I pulled my hands back from James and Mary Beth.
"I can't do this! I'm sorry, I tried, but I just can't do it. Would one of you please see that Mary Beth is escorted to breakfast? I have to go back to my room," I asked, then suddenly, and without warning, I turned and ran back to our dorm.
I didn't stop running until I had closed my bedroom door. I quickly removed my coat and jacket, putting them neatly on my bed. I wasn't quite so neat with the tie, shirt and pants. Once I was down to my underwear, I rushed to the bathroom.
‘No, that's not right; it isn't my underwear, that's the problem. It’s boy's underwear; it belongs to someone who doesn't exist anymore. It's Matt's underwear, and he's dead.'
In my bathroom, I stripped off Matt's underwear and dumped it down the laundry chute. Taking a moment to commune with Mother Nature, I went to my closet to get dressed. Pulling on the panties I had started to put on earlier, I quickly repositioned things as Miss Adams had taught me. It was such a relief to feel … proper again. I slipped on a white silk camisole and some matching silk panties. Leaning against the doorframe, I sighed in relief, laughing as I thought 'Matt is dead, long live Matilda.'
I moved back to my bed and continued getting dressed. It was time to make a new start at being Jeffrey.
I'd finished getting dressed and was putting on my coat, in preparation of re-joining my friends for breakfast, when someone knocked on my door.
"Good morning Ellen." I greeted her with a smile, as I opened my door, seeing her concerned face.
"First, are you sure it's a good morning? Second, to whom am I speaking?"
My smile grew with the knowledge that my friends cared enough about me to send word to Ellen. Spreading my arms, I looked down at my clothes. Looking up again I offered my hand to Ellen, to shake, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ellen. The name ... is Jeffrey."
"And are you Jeffrey by choice?" she asked warily.
"To be honest, it didn't start out that way, but after a false start and a misconception or two. Yes, I'm Jeffrey by choice, and yes Ellen, it is a good morning. It started out a bit on the rocky side. However, after returning to the scene of the crime and starting over, I can say without a doubt that it is a good morning."
Ellen's expression was much more skeptical, causing me to break into giggles. "Jeffrey, could we sit down and talk about what happened this morning?"
"It would be my pleasure, please enter my humble abode," I said with a bow, stepping aside so Ellen could pass. I was extremely polite, asking, "May I take your coat. I'm guessing we'll be awhile." Ellen removed her coat and I gently laid it on my bed, followed by mine. We sat on the couch so we could be comfortable.
I removed my PDA from my pants pocket and started typing. "Just a short note to Hunter, letting him know that I'm okay, also that you and I are going to talk for a while," answering Ellen’s questioning look.
"So tell me Jeffrey, when was the first time you felt uncomfortable about today's change."
"I guess I first experienced some queasy feelings as I was putting on the boy’s briefs. I'd started to put on panties as I normally do, then I remembered what you said last night about most boys not wearing panties or being tucked. But everything just felt wrong after I exchanged the panties for some briefs. I told myself that it didn't matter, boys underwear and girls underwear are basically the same, they're both just fabric that's cut and sewed together. I didn't notice too much discomfort until I started walking around." Slowly, and with a lot of embarrassment on my part, I related to Ellen ALL the details of this morning’s episode. Naturally, I included my speculation, that the stimulation provided by the coarse material of the briefs is what caused me to act and feel as if I were Matt.
Ellen was surprised by my theory and conclusion, "That's a very interesting, yet hypothetical, conclusion. I'm not sure how we can, or if we want to, prove or disprove your theory. At any rate, I'll arrange for some better quality briefs and tee-shirts."
"Ellen, don't waste the school’s money," I offered and then explained. "You said two things last night that apply to this situation. First, you said that most boys don't wear panties. Second, you said that it was my decision how I dressed. Well … I am definitely NOT ‘most boys’, and this Jeffrey does wear panties. Furthermore, if I have anything to say about it, I'll never put on boy’s underwear again."
"Yes, I did say it was your choice, although I'm surprised by your analysis and conclusion. It seems that Jill Morgan was correct in her assessment of your ability to analyze and define a resolution to almost any problem. In the meantime, shall we get some breakfast and get you to class?"
Eager to have this embarrassing conversation concluded, I jumped up and retrieved Ellen’s coat, holding it open so she could slip her arms in.
Giggling, Ellen rose and accepted my offer, "Thank you young man, you're quite the gentlemen."
"You can blame my Mother for that. Dad wasn't much of a gentleman, so Mom taught Charles and me to treat girls and ladies with respect, as well as what it means to be a gentleman."
"Well, she did a fine job."
Giggling I added, "Perhaps she should have spent more time teaching me how a girl treats a gentleman."
Ellen had an evil smile. Without warning, she bent down and kissed me on the cheek, "Thank you kind sir, for assisting me with my coat."
While wiping my cheek I moaned, "I guess I asked for that, didn't I? Now I know how Mary Beth felt when I kissed her."
"You've been kissing Mary Beth?" Ellen asked, as I was putting on my coat.
"Only two times. She got mad at me the first time, I think she wanted to punch me."
"And the second time?"
"It wasn't in public, so she didn't get as upset."
“I think we'd better discuss this matter in more detail on Tuesday, when Mary Beth is with us.”
I shook my head thinking that Mary Beth might not be happy discussing the subject, and then I frowned.
“Is there a problem with discussing when and why you kissed Mary Beth, with her?”
“No, there’s no problem discussing it with her.”
“So why the frown?”
“I miss having long hair. I like the way it tickles my ears.”
“Come on Munchkin, let’s get some breakfast,” Ellen laughed.
We walked together to the cafeteria. Ellen led me around to a side door; it opened into another small dining room.
"Jeffrey, what would you like for breakfast?"
"Oh, um, I guess some hash browns, two eggs over medium on top of the hash browns, some country gravy over the top, and a large glass of orange juice. Why?"
"That sounds good; I think I'll have the same. I'll go get our breakfasts, please wait here for me."
"Ellen, I'm capable of carrying my own breakfast."
"Of course you are, think of this as a welcome to Immigration Manor, to Jeffrey from me. I'd like you to wait here. Will you do that for me?"
"Yes Ellen, I'll wait here," I replied, but I didn't promise that I wouldn’t think about what was going on. There was a mystery brewing and I knew it.
As soon as Ellen left, I got out my PDA and accessed the system. ‘There must be some reason that I shouldn't be in the main dining room, when years D through H are there. Doing a global search with 'Matilda' as the search parameter, revealed more information than I knew existed. Going through all of this would take some time. On a hunch, I did another search using 'Edith' as the search parameter. Not as much information, but still a lot there. Scanning through the list, I found Mom's schedule. Out of simple curiosity, I opened her schedule wondering if she was as busy as I've been. Let's see, she's scheduled to eat with years D through H, no surprise there. She's schedule time each day to see Rachael while I'm in choir practice. The rest of her time is schedule to see students, that's not surprising either, that's what she was hired for. What I found interesting was there were some red X's through her schedule during the time that Mary Beth and I usually go see Rachael. That struck me as odd; an experiment seemed to be in order. I closed Mom's schedule, and brought up my own. Then I changed the time that I planned to spend with Rachael on Saturday. Closing my schedule, I opened Mom's, to discover that the red X's on her Saturday schedule had changed.’
Just then, Ellen and Joseph came in. I shut down my PDA and greeted them with a smile.
"My, my, I see zhat I may not refer to you as Mademoiselle Matilda," Joseph giggled. "Peraaps Jeune Homme Jeffrey, or Mioche Jeffrey, or possible Petit Homme Jeffrey."
I wasn't exactly sure what Joseph had said, but I did know that Petit meant little.
"Joseph," Ellen scolded. "Don't call him that unless you desire a large bruise on your leg."
Ellen took my hand and asked me to stand. As I stood Ellen continued, "Allow me to present Jeune Monsieur Jeffrey." Naturally I bowed.
"My apologies, good sir. It is an oonor do make your acquaintance." Joseph returned my bow. We all had a good laugh at how formal we were acting.
After a brief conversation, Joseph went back into the main dining room. Ellen and I talked while we ate, mostly about what I've been doing, how busy I've been, anything else that would cause me to get upset. I asked her how her investigation of Bart and his family was progressing. She informed me that she was pursuing several other matters this week, but would be returning to the question of Bart and his abuse next week. Of course, I didn't tell her about my attempts to take matters into my own hands, so to speak.
Ellen escorted me to my French class, which was already in progress. When I made my entrance, Hunter ran across the room to hug me.
"Oh, I was so worried about you," Hunter squealed as he hugged me. He even kissed my cheek several times. "You ran off so suddenly. You've got the entire year worrying about you. What on Earth could have made you act that way? Why did you run away from us like you did? Oh Matilda ..."
"Hold on a second Hunter ... slow down and take it easy. I'm all right and I'll tell you all about what happened, but not here and not now. Right now, we need to learn some French. And it's Jeffrey, if you don't mind."
Ellen was still standing in the doorway, chuckling. I saw her give Rusty a nod, just before she left.
"Welcome Jeffrey," Rusty greeted. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Being that your arrival has caused a bit of a disturbance anyway, why don't we take advantage of it and take a ten-minute break. Please be back in your seats, with your giggles expended, by 9:20."
We left the wheelchair in the classroom, being that the restrooms were just around the corner. Hunter was talking a mile-a-minute, wanting to know what had happened, was I okay, what did Ellen and I talk about, was I going to space out again, did I contact James or Erin ...
Hunter suddenly stopped talking when he noticed I was leading him into the boy's restroom, and refused to move, "Just where do you think you're going?"
"To commune with nature, like I always do during the break. Is there a problem?"
"But we can't go in there, it's the boy's bathroom."
"Yes it is Hunter, and your point is?"
"But, we’re not really boys."
"First, I'd like to thank you for that compliment. Second, I'd like to point out, that if you'd looked closely, when Bart left me naked in the schoolyard, you'd see that I do have boy things between my legs. Third, I've been dressed as a girl and using the girl's restroom for just over a week and you didn't seem to have a problem with that. Now we're both dressed as boys and using male names, it seems only natural for us to use the boy's restroom."
"But I've never been in a boy's bathroom before."
"So what's the problem? It's just a bathroom."
"Yes, but it's a BOY’S bathroom!"
"Hunter, answer a question for me. In the nine days we've been here have you used the restroom that's attached to the year lounge?"
"Has it only been nine days?"
"Yes, it's only been nine days. Now answer my question."
"Oh, yes, all right."
"Well, is it a boy's restroom or a girl's restroom?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Well it's sort of both, I guess."
I paused a moment, concentrating hard to prevent something embarrassing from happening. 'Oh, I've got to speed this up'.
"Why are you afraid of the boy's restroom? Are you afraid that when you walk in a mondo huge boy cutie is going to jump on your head and suck out your brains?"
"NOOO."
"Well then, you must be afraid if the eight legged, boy stall bugs that crawl around on the floor and under the stalls to bite your leg when you sit down."
"Oh there aren't any stall bugs. You made that up."
"Yes I did, but only to get you laughing and moving. Now come on," I concluded. Grabbing his hand, I pulled him forward.
"But ..."
"For everything there is a first time," I replied, pulling him inside.
"Oh, stop quoting Star Trek and let's get this over with."
We entered a world forbidden to every elementary school girl, the boy's restroom. "There, just like the restroom that is attached to the lounge. Now if you'll excuse me, I really need to relieve myself."
I let go of Hunter's hand and started for the nearest stall. I had to stop and giggle, "Hunter, why are you covering your eyes?"
"I don't want to see you using the urinal."
"First off, how would you know what a urinal is, or what it's for? Second, I haven't used a urinal since I started my girl training, ten weeks ago." Shaking my head, I went into the stall, closed the door, and took care of my immediate needs.
"Well I do have brothers you know. I've heard them talking."
"I don't think we'll hear any of that kind of talk around here. Speaking of talking, are you going to just stand there talking, or are you going to use one of the other stalls?"
"Couldn't I go next door to the girl's bathroom?"
"Aagh," I groaned, "Hunter, right now you look like a boy, well sort of. Anyway, boys don't use girl’s restrooms. Now hurry up, it's almost time to go back to class."
"But what if someone else comes in?"
"And sees what? A boy coming out of a stall in the boy’s restroom. Gee, that would be shocking. Besides you, Rusty, and I are the only people on this floor right now."
"Well, what if Rusty comes in?"
"That won't happen; the staff have their own facilities. Now hurry up," I urged, as I emerged from the stall and went to wash my hands.
"Okay, but you go out in the hall and don't let anyone in here."
"All right silly, I'll guard the door, just hurry up. We don't want you having an embarrassing moment."
'While waiting I'll work on the puzzle, why can't I be in the main dining room with years D through H? After all, there was no problem with me being there during girl training, why would now be different? Obviously it's has nothing to do with the room or building, I'm in there three times a day. It can only mean that there's someone in there that I'm not supposed to see. It's also something that Beca and company know, from the way they were stepping on their tongues on Monday. Let's see, the student profiles don't give me an arrival date, no matter, there is a date on the creation of the file. So sorting by date ... Mary Beth and I are the newest students, and there weren't any added between now and when I was here before. There's something odd though; Year A's files were created in June of this year. Every year in June, all the student profiles were created, except year C. Their profiles were created in September of 2002. I'll have to look into that some other time. As for today's puzzle, that only leaves some new staff member that's being hidden from me. Hmm, where did RJ hide the staff's records. Ah, there they are, now arrange them by date and ... Mom is the only new staff member. That's ridiculous, it can't be her, what am I missing?'
"What are you doing now?" Hunter asked, as he put his hand between my eyes and my PDA, startling me.
"Ahhh ... Don't sneak up on me like that. You want to give me a heart attack?"
"Who was sneaking? You were so involved with what you're working on I could have driven a bulldozer past you and you wouldn't have noticed."
"Hunter, don't exaggerate."
"Who's exaggerating?"
"Oh come on, let's get back to class."
After French, Hunter decided to go back to the lounge while I was in my computer class.
'My next opportunity to work on the 'who I shouldn't see and why' puzzle, was my next restroom break. The information I'm coming up with is sketchy, and scattered from one place to another. It almost seems that there's an ultra high security server somewhere that I haven't found yet. I've run across several references to Marshallville and an exodus, but very little real information on that subject. I wonder if Lizy will tell me about what happened there. So far, everything is pointing to everyone keeping me from seeing Mom, but that doesn't make any sense. Why would they not want me to see my mother? Maybe I'll find more information next time.'
I arranged to have Hunter meet me in the cafeteria for lunch. He said that half the year had volunteered to push his wheelchair for him. This was weird, considering our past, but having good friends is sure nice.
'I'm early, gives me another chance to crack this puzzle. I wonder if looking for a school policy regarding parents would reveal much, it just led me to that high security server again. I guess the only way to find what I'm looking for is to crack that box. Well, maybe after lunch.'
"Hi Jeff," Marlow called out, as he and Willy pushed Hunter into the cafeteria. "Been waiting long?"
"No, not too long. Just working on a little homework," I replied with a smile.
"No plans to take over the world?" Hunter asked, jokingly.
"Not this time, my friendly sidekick," I replied with a giggle. "What have all of you been up to, while I've been stuck in class?"
"Erin and Christopher have been laying out circuit boards," Willy announced.
"And Hank has been going over safety procedures for the power tools," Nola added, as she and Misaki joined the little group.
'It's a good thing I recruited the rest of the year to help with the keyboard project, there's no way I'd have found the time to do it on my own.'
The conversation during lunch was centered mostly on me, ‘how could I be so lucky’. Everyone wanted to know what had been wrong this morning, if there was anything they could do to help me, and had Ellen been able to help. Basically, lots of questions I didn't want to answer. I did my best to explain everything without revealing too many embarrassing details.
After lunch, Hunter and I went to see Rachael. She was expecting Mary Beth and me as her sister. Being visited by Hunter and me as her new brother, took her by surprise.
"Matilda, why are you dressed as Matt?" Rachael asked, as we entered her room.
"I'm sorry miss; you must have me confused with someone else. My name is Jeffrey," I responded politely, just as a proper young man should.
"All right Matt, what's going on?" Rachael asked sternly.
Ignoring Rachael's question, I continued with the introductions, "Rachael, allow me to present my very good friend Hunter. Hunter, this is Miss Rachael, she's Matilda's sister."
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, miss," Hunter replied, extending his right hand in friendship.
"Okay you two, enough with the rich kid routine, what's going on?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, miss," Hunter professed.
As for myself, I couldn't contain my amusement any longer and started giggling.
"Ah ha, I knew this was all part of some big act. Okay Matt, out with it."
I picked up Rachael's brush and started my daily ritual of brushing her hair. "I'm afraid you are mistaken on that point, my dear sister. You see, your father killed Matt fifteen days ago, in a fit of rage. As with declining to use the name Covington, I cannot and will not use the name Matt. From this day on, any time I appear male I would appreciate it if you would address me as Jeffrey."
"So, why are you two dressed as boys?" Rachael asked calmly, but sadly as she remembered the events I had reminded her of.
"According to Ellen, this is part of our education," Hunter replied.
"Girls dressing up like boys is educational?" Rachael thought aloud.
"It’s not just girls learning what its like to be male," I added. “The boys are required to dress as females, so they can learn about life from a feminine point of view. It's what they call Freaky Friday. We're told they do this about once a month."
"You're kidding! The boys have to dress as girls? That must be funny. I can imagine what that looks like, all of them stumbling around in high heels," Rachael giggled.
"Oh, I'm sure there first time in heels they started out with short ones. We haven't seen anyone stumbling nor anyone having problems, have we Jeffrey?"
"No problems at all. In fact, everyone presenting themselves as female looks and acts quite feminine.
"So tell me, how does Mary Beth like being a boy?" Rachael asked Hunter.
"Well, it's not something I wanted to do or would have done on my own, but it isn't as horrible as I thought it would be," Hunter replied.
"Does that include the trip to the restroom?" I asked with a giggle.
"Don't even talk to me about that, Jeffrey. I don't even want to remember what the boy's bathroom looked like."
"You went in the boy's restroom?" Rachael gasped. "How many boys did it take to drag you in there?"
"None," I replied, "He walked in on his own two feet."
"Not exactly walked in, it was more like I was half talked into it and half dragged, and by my best friend, of all people."
"Hunter, answer a question for me," I asked plainly, "Which would be worse; using the boy's restroom, because you're dressed as a boy. Or being forced to change your clothes because something embarrassing happened."
I waited for a reply; but when it didn't come in what I calculated to be a reasonable amount of time, I prodded a little, "Well?"
"I'm thinking it over!"
"Oh come on Hunter! This isn't a tough question. Rachael, what would you choose, being in an uncomfortable situation for a short time, or a very embarrassing situation?"
Rachael almost whispered her answer, "I don't think I'm the right person to ask about embarrassing situations." She rotated her hips slightly and I could make out a tell tale crinkle; to me, it spoke volumes.
I put down the brush and hugged my little sister. "Oh Rachael, I'm so sorry about all of this. None of this was supposed to happen, to you or to Mary Beth. I guess I didn't do a very good job of protecting my little sister."
"What are you talking about?" Rachael asked me. "You didn't do anything to cause this. It's my fault I'm sitting here like a china doll. I knew better than to make that overgrown infant throw a tantrum. It's just like Dad; you weren't responsible for how he acted, and you weren't responsible for Bart blowing a gasket. I was the one that goaded him. I do think they should keep him on tranquilizers though; he did overreact just a bit. Wouldn't you agree?"
"To which part?" Hunter asked, giggling. "That he over reacted or that he's an overgrown infant that has frequent temper tantrums?"
That one had all of us giggling; sadness and self-pity were once again a thing of the past. However, Mother Nature was once again calling my name. I left Hunter to visit while I took advantage of the opportunity to use the facilities adjacent to Rachael's room, also time to work on the puzzle some more.
I'd found the mystery server and had almost cracked the access authorization when Hunter started knocking.
"Hey Jeff, are you alive in there?"
"Yes, I'm still alive," I muttered, slightly annoyed at being interrupted when I was so close.
"Well, are you going to stay in there all day? I'd like to use this bathroom instead of having to use a boy's bathroom again."
"I'll be out in a sec," I said as I shut down my PDA and pulled up my pants.
"It's about time," Hunter groaned, as I opened the door.
"I love you to," I replied with a teasing smile.
Rachael and I chatted while Hunter was occupied. We then bid Rachael so long as we went to afternoon choir practice, after which everyone rushed back to their rooms to change; not only their clothes, but their perceived gender as well.
It didn't take long to change my clothes and put on my wig and makeup, as I'd already decided on the long cranberry gown with matching shoes. My transformation complete, I had a few minutes and made another attempt at the mystery server. I was ecstatic when I succeeded in gaining access. Ecstatic that is, until I found what I was looking for, 'School Policies'. It took everything I had to keep from screaming my lungs out. Instead, I took advantage of something else I found on the mystery server, finding the location of the person I needed to see. After leaving a note for Mary Beth, telling her where I was going, I ran to the administration building and approached an office I hadn't been in for about ten weeks.
After double-checking the locator program to verify that the room had only one occupant, I knocked.
"Come in," the voice called out.
I opened the door and entered a room that I knew I would never see the inside of again. Closing the door, I stood motionless, clutching the doorknob for support.
"Oh my, Matilda, it's so good to see you. You're absolutely beautiful in that gown, but what are you doing here?"
It was several seconds before I could reply. Standing by the door, I stared across the desk at my Mother. Summoning all the strength-of-will I could muster, I calmly asked, "Mother, you knew about it, didn't you?"
"Knew about what Dear?"
"Mom ... You knew about it when Beca and Lizy picked me up at the hospital and took me to the house to get my books. You knew then! I saw it on your face and in your eyes, but I didn't understand, at least not fully, not until now," I choked out, my eyes starting to form tears. Still clutching the doorknob, I squeezed hard to help me control my emotions.
"Dear, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mom, don't do this to me! You have no idea how hard this is for me, to not run over there and jump onto your lap, to hug and kiss you, to beg you to take me away from all of this, so we can be together again. Just tell me that you knew and you're doing this out of love for me," I cried, no longer able to control my tears.
"Of course I love you, but what does that have to ..."
"Mom," I screamed, almost in anger, "you're a counselor here. Are you going to sit there and tell me that you don't know about the school rules? The one about never seeing our families again?"
Mom hung and shook her head. With her head still down she softly answered, “Yes Dear, I know about it." Lifting her head, our eyes locked onto each other. "The question is, how you found out about it. They don't tell any of the students until well into their fifth year."
"It's on one of the network servers," I meekly answered.
"I see. I guess they were right about your abilities. What took you so long, in finding out, I mean?"
"I wasn't looking for it; I stumbled onto it by accident. I've been working on some other problems, trying to help other people."
"That's my little angel, always trying to help someone else." Several seconds passed as we looked at each other. Eventually Mom asked, "The question now is, what are you going to do?"
"Do?"
"What are you going to do with the information you have?"
It took a great deal of effort, forcing myself to stay in control as I walked to her desk. I removed a tissue from the box on the corner and blew my nose, then used another one to wipe my eyes. Finally answering her question, "I don't know."
'Sometimes I really hate being different. I have the opportunity to do something that no other student here will ever be allowed to do, but can I do it without crying?'
I turned and returned to the door. I couldn't turn back to face her. I knew that if I looked into her eyes again I wouldn't be able to stop myself from running back to her. Without looking back, I turned the doorknob. Before opening the door, I cried as I squeaked out two words, "Goodbye, Mother."
The door opened and closed, and I found myself in the hall, slumped against the wall, sobbing.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 8
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
So, everyone get your blankie and your pillow, and make a circle around Auntie Penny.
And don't forget your tissues.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 8
Suddenly, I was floating through the air. For a moment, I thought that my Mother had come to my rescue as she had so many times in the past. Still sobbing, I hugged my rescuer out of instinct.
"Easy now, I haven't been hugged like that for some time."
That wasn't Mom's voice. I looked up and tried to focus with my tearful eyes. As they cleared, I saw ... Ellen.
"Twice in one day I've been summoned to assist you. You know, if you keep this up we may need to hire another psychiatrist just to take care of you," she said with a smile, as we entered her office.
We had been sitting on the large couch for several minutes before I was able to regain some control over my tear ducts. All the while Ellen sat next to me with an arm around my shoulder, holding me close.
Ellen waited for me to settle down a bit before trying to talk with me, "I received a note from Mary Beth indicating you'd gone to see your mother. Mary Beth thought it was unusual, and asked me to check on you. When I arrived outside your mother's office I heard some agitated voices. I was wondering who or what was going on, when suddenly you appeared. So tell me, what caused you to seek out your mother, and why did you collapse in tears?"
I was still crying and found it hard to form some of my words, "I know! ... I, I didn't th ... th ... think I'd ever get th … the chance again ... After you found out th ... that I know."
"Matilda, I'm not sure what you're ..."
"Th ... The school rules ... you didn't explain all of them to me and Mary Beth, did you?" I cried out. I was still crying, but obviously upset.
"I'm not sure I know which rules you're referring to. Perhaps you could ..."
"Ellen, I know that what we've been told about going home to our families after we graduate, is a lie. We're never allowed to see our families again, ARE WE?"
"You are a clever girl, aren't you? We've never had anyone from year A, B, or C come up with anything resembling speculation along that line. How did you come to that conclusion?"
I'd stopped crying by this time; in fact, I was on the verge of being down right mad. "No speculation. I found it on one of the school servers. It's spelled out very plainly in black and white, 'Security Measure Twenty-Four’ - Upon graduation all students will be relocated to areas as far from their birth family as possible.' You want to tell me what that means? Go ahead, try telling me that it's something other than we’re NEVER to see our families again."
After a slight pause and a deep breath, Ellen conceded, "It appears that you are holding a few more aces than I am. It's also obvious that RJ's security measures aren't as good as he claimed they were."
"Is that all you're going to say?"
"At the moment there isn't much I can say, except that we hadn't planned on you having to grow up so soon."
"What do you mean, grow up so soon?"
"As a child, the knowledge and information you acquire may be freely shared. Even what you know about Bart and his actions, you are at liberty to share with the other students, if you wish. As an adult, frequently we will acquire knowledge that, if shared so freely, would be detrimental to others, causing pain and suffering, it could possibly be ... fatal. I just hope that Mary Beth is ready to grow up."
"What do you mean? Mary Beth doesn't know about any of this."
"Matilda, as you know, there are no secrets between study partners. You must tell her what you know."
"WHAT? ... YOU WANT ME TO TELL HER? NOW I KNOW YOU’RE CRAZY! I CAN'T TELL HER SOMETHING LIKE THIS. 'Hi Mary Beth, how was your day? Oh by the way, you can never see your family again, EVER! You have a nice day now.’ She'll never understand. I'm not sure that I understand, and I'm the dummy that doesn't know enough to keep her nose out of where it doesn't belong." At least by the time I'd stopped talking, I'd also stopped yelling.
‘What made me tremble in fear was that I knew Ellen was right. Mary Beth had to be told, and I had to be the one to tell her. I was looking at the floor, shaking my head, trying to figure out how I keep getting myself into these situations. I was also trying to figure out when, where, and how to tell Mary Beth. Sometimes I hate being so smart … that I'm stupid.’
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door, startling me. "Are you expecting someone? I'll come back later," I mumbled as I started to get up.
"Yes, I am expecting someone," Ellen replied, keeping a straight face. "Please sit down."
Reluctantly I sat down on the edge of the couch with my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands, not very ladylike, but at the time, I really didn't care. I decided to make another study of the pattern in the carpet as Ellen opened the door. "Come in, please have a seat on one of the couches," I heard her say.
A few seconds later, someone in a blue gown sat next to me. Not having any idea why Ellen would want me here, while she talked with someone else, I remained quiet and stared at the floor.
I twitched as a hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I heard a familiar voice asking gently, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
That was all it took to open the floodgates again. With my head hanging lower, I was sobbing again. I managed to ask, "Ellen, what is she doing here?"
"Matilda, you know why Mary Beth is here. There is something you have to tell her."
"Tell me what?" Mary Beth asked, while rubbing my back and shoulders.
Ignoring Mary Beth’s question, I asked, "I know, but does it have to be right now? Couldn't it have waited a week or two?"
"Matilda, you know that would be keeping a secret from your study partner. She must be told, it must be today, and it must come from you. I’ll be here to help afterwards."
Shaking my head, I knew Ellen was right. Slowly I sat up and in agony turned to face my partner. I threw my arms around Mary Beth. She hugged me close as I cried and cried, soaking her gown.
'Never again will I refer to Mary Beth as just my study partner. As of this moment, we are partners, partners in life, separated from everyone else because of what we know. I've cursed us both to a life of secrecy where the only other person we can turn to in the entire world, is each other. Right now ... I just don't feel all that special.'
After I'd slowly exhausted myself and stopped crying. Pulling back, I looked into Mary Beth's eyes. "Mary Beth, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to cause you so much pain."
"Matilda, what are you talking about? What did you do, this time?"
"Well ... You know how I'm always solving puzzles and mysteries. Um, well, Ellen threw down the gauntlet; that is, she gave me a mystery to solve."
"Don't involve me in this. I didn't do, or say, anything that would have led you to your discovery," Ellen tried to profess her innocence.
"No, you didn't say anything directly that led me to it, you just left all the clues of a mystery lying around," I countered.
"Matilda I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, but I assure you I never ..."
I know it was rude, but I cut Ellen off, "Mary Beth, Monday morning, didn’t it seem that Beca, Lizy, and the others were acting very strange, or was it just my imagination?"
"Yes, they were acting strange. It was almost like we weren't supposed to be there," she replied, confirming my speculation, although it was something we'd never discussed.
"Ellen, please answer a question. Who rescheduled our French class to begin right after breakfast, eliminating the possibly of us being in the cafeteria with years D through H?"
Ellen didn't answer. The room was so quiet you could hear the second hand of the clock on the wall, ticking off the seconds.
"Who was it that escorted me to breakfast this morning, taking me into a private dining room, deliberately avoiding the main dining room? Who was so gracious as to get my breakfast for me, again keeping me out of the main dining room? Lastly, who escorted me to my French class by means of a side door and the emergency stairwell, once again avoiding the main dining room? Clues, Ellen, they’re all clues to a mystery. Because I'm in the cafeteria three times a day it had to be something else. Examining all the clues pointed in the direction of someone I'm not supposed to see. Someone who would be in the cafeteria at the same time as years D through H."
"Perhaps our actions could have been misinterpreted," Ellen reluctantly admitted, after some thought. "This is the first time that we've been in this situation. This entire episode will have to be reviewed."
"So, that's what has kept you so preoccupied all day," Mary Beth stated gently. "Every time you had a few moments to spare, you were busy tapping at the keys on your PDA. I take it you solved the mystery and that's what this is all about, why we’re here?" I nodded in response, "So tell me, who is it you aren't supposed to see?"
I looked at Ellen; her expression hadn't changed, only a slight nod told me to continue.
Turning back to Mary Beth I quietly answered her question, "My Mother!” I couldn't help it … I started gently crying, again hugging Mary Beth close. Softly, I whimpered out, “I'm not supposed to see my Mother."
"Matilda that's crazy! Why wouldn't they want you to see your Mother?"
After I’d reduced to sniffling and sat up to answer, "That's what I thought, crazy, no reason to stop me from seeing my own Mother, so I kept looking for a different answer. Every lead I followed took me back to the same place, a mysterious server that had been electronically hidden from me. Once I found it, cracking the access code was only a little more difficult than the other servers. What I found there was, was, well ... it was Pandora’s Box. There is more information about this school than anyone our age has a right to know."
I paused as I hung my head, slowly shaking it from side to side. It didn't help arrange my thoughts or help me know just what to tell Mary Beth or when. The long hair tickling my ears did remind me of how much I loved being a girl. That, along with the knowledge I had acquired, helped reaffirm what in my heart I knew. I knew that I would do everything within my power to protect my partner, this school with all of her students, and our sister schools.
Again, I looked into Mary Beth's eyes, "Mary Beth, Ellen didn't tell us, or your parents, everything about this school. They were trying to stop me from seeing my Mother, because of one of the security measures for the school."
‘Enough beating around the bush, it's time to get this out in the open.’
I took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds before exhaling, before I continued, "Mary Beth, you will never be allowed to see your family again."
"Well yeah, this is a live-in school. We are here until we graduate. We won’t see our families until we ..."
I softly interrupted her, "No Mary Beth, no. We can never go home! We will NEVER see our families again."
"You mean never, as in, never ever? But ... Why?"
'There she goes, it's starting to sink in; Mary Beth is starting to cry. Now it’s time for me to be the strong one, to put my arms around my partner and comfort her. It is after all, my fault that she's in pain, a pain that isn't going to go away quickly and will resurface from time to time. I will always be there for her, to care for and look after her. … Why is Ellen looking at me like that? She’s smiling, she seems to be ... almost proud of something.'
I was holding my partner as she cried on my shoulder, which only seemed fair, after all, I’d soaked her gown and now she was soaking mine. As we were trying to find comfort in each other’s arms, Ellen answered another knock. I chuckled to myself thinking that she'd sent for Dr. Harris and some tranquilizers.
To my surprise, it was Beca and Lizy.
"Good evening ladies," Ellen greeted. "Please have a seat."
As they sat on the couch facing us, I looked over at Beca, who looked back at me. Because I couldn't hide the agony I felt, Beca read the pain on my face and gently asked, "Oh Munchkin, you did it, didn't you?"
I shyly nodded, still clutching a very distraught Mary Beth, while softly crying myself.
"I told you not to go looking for the answer ..."
"Beca, that's enough," Ellen interrupted. "Matilda feels bad enough. I've asked you two here to help me explain the reason why. Liz, I know it's still causes you some distress and for that I'm sorry, but I need you to tell the girls about Gregory."
"Oh, now I see. Two crying girls in your office isn't enough, you need a third to make things complete?" Beca chastised.
"No Beca," Lizy said softly. "If Ellen thinks knowing about Gregory can help them, then I want them to know. Will you help me?"
"You know you don't have to ask that." Beca replied softly. "I'm here for you now, and I'll be there for you tonight. Do you want me to start?" Lizy gently nodded.
Ellen interrupted before Beca got started, "Beca, what did you mean when you told Lizy you'd be there tonight?"
Beca looked at Ellen as she softly answered, "She'll be up most of the night after reliving this again. It's a good thing that today is Friday."
"I'm sorry; I had no idea that she was still that troubled by the episode. I'll talk with Kathy Ray about it."
Turning back to face us; Beca began, "All right boys and girls ... Sorry, Girls, let’s set the way back machine for November of 2001.”
“We have a very special school outside the sleepy little town of Marshallville Ohio. One day, one of their very bright students was even more bubbly than usual. It was on that day that our bubbly friend Nichols received approval from his psychiatrist and the school doctor, to start taking a little pink pill. You see, Nichols had this problem. He didn't feel right, not about the clothes he wore, not about the way he felt about himself, not about the way his body looked. Nichols knew, deep in his heart, that he wasn't meant to be ... Nichols."
"Oh Beca, you're being so overdramatic," Lizy giggled.
"Do you want me to tell the story, or are you going to tell it?"
"No, no, you're doing fine. As funny as you're making it out to be, maybe I won’t feel so bad when we’re done. Please continue."
"All right then. Now, where was I?" Beca asked sarcastically.
"Nichols didn't want to be Nichols," Mary Beth whispered. Her tears were easing as she started to pay attention, momentarily forgetting about her own situation.
"That was it, thank you. Not only did Nichols not want to be Nichols, he didn't want to be, well … a he. Because of this special school, where everyone was allowed to be what he or she wanted to be, Nichols had been able to dress as the person he felt he truly was. Now then, Nichols had a wonderful study partner, whose name was Gregory. Gregory was a special person as well. He cared for his study partner so much that he tried to help Nichols become the person he truly needed to be. In less time than was normal for study partners, these two had bonded and Nichols, with Gregory's help, became ... Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth? Lizy, Gregory was your study partner?” Mary Beth asked.
"Yes, the very same,” Beca answered, and then she continued. “Gregory wanted so much to help Elizabeth that he did some research to find out how she could make her change permanent. Soon they both knew what would be needed, and more importantly, when they could take the steps needed to make Elizabeth truly happy. What they didn't know was that their special school sometimes did things a little differently. So, when the doctor told Elizabeth that she could start taking the little pink pill five years early, she was very happy. Of course, she had to tell Gregory so he could share in her joy. That's when the trouble started."
"I'll take it from here Beca," Lizy kissed Beca's cheek. "You've done such a wonder job of describing the opening scene. I'm almost tempted to let you finish the story, but that's my job. Now, as Beca said, the problem started when the school allowed me to start my transition when I was thirteen. Greg and I both knew that legally I was supposed to wait until I was eighteen. But waiting until I was eighteen to start my transition meant male puberty would have taken its toll and I would never have a truly feminine figure. Greg said it didn’t matter to him, and that he'd stand by me no matter what, well, I guess he found something more important to him than I was.
"Anyway, I was upset that I wouldn’t look like the person that I truly felt that I was. I was so upset that I … I tried to do something really stupid."
"I know that feeling," I said softly.
"Yes Matilda, we do have a lot in common. Even more than you might think," Lizy smiled at me.
‘Over the next hour and a half, Lizy and Beca told us a horror story, a story of betrayal, of heartbreak, of fear, and of a fight for survival and a fight for life. I’ll condense it for your benefit, and besides, I don’t remember all of the details.’
On February Fifteenth, two thousand and two, just after midnight the school left the facility in Marshallville, Ohio. This was twelve days after the disappearance of thirteen-year-old Gregory. His psychiatrist, James, had somehow missed the signs that there was a serious problem with Greg. Two months before, Greg had inadvertently discovered that he would never be allowed to see his family again. This knowledge was not to be revealed to him, or his classmates, until they were sixteen. Greg knew that in allowing Elizabeth to start transitioning so early, the school was breaking the law (because of his father being a lawyer). Up until this point in time, Greg had assumed that all of the transgender girls were using the same type of appliances that he used, when the school had Freaky Fridays.
Greg realized that for the school to break the law this way, someone would have to pay a price. He'd hoped he was wrong, however when he confronted James, he discovered, to his horror, that he was right. He would be paying the price by never being allowed to see his family again. Greg's goals were to return home, and to one day take over his father's law firm; something that had been missed in the evaluation process.
For about two months James and the lead psychiatrist, Yvonne, worked with Greg. They both thought that Greg had adjusted well and understood what they were trying to accomplish, and also the need for complete secrecy. The secrecy was essential for the school to continue helping children that had special abilities and special needs. It wasn’t until Greg disappeared on February Third that they realized there was a serious problem.
Mr. Struthers, the principal, received word that Gregory had managed to evade security and had been able to contact his father, who had arranged for Greg to be picked up. More importantly, Greg's father had arranged for an investigation by the Federal Marshals.
Mr. Struthers, whose only concern was the safety of the students under his care was forced into making some unpopular decisions. Among others, he arranged for the students to leave the school barely a day or two before the Federal Marshals arrived. By the time the marshals arrived, the school had been completely stripped of all furnishings and technologies, and in almost every way appeared to have been vacant for several years.
After the sudden exodus, the school and students were homeless. It took three months to arrange for a new facility, and another month before the necessary preparations could be completed. Therefore, for just over four months, the students lived in fear as they were moved from city to city, hotel to hotel. Gone was the security of knowing where to call home, what bed they would sleep in, where their friends were, even knowing if they were safe. For the students in transition, there was also the added fear that they might not be allowed to complete the transition process, and that they might be discovered.
Mr. Struthers had arranged for eight busses instead of the usual four, separating the students by years, so they wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. Great care was taken to assure that no two groups of students were ever in the same city at the same time. In addition, no group stayed in any place for more than a week.
During this time, new psychiatric evaluations were created, and administered to everyone. Then they were checked, double checked, and checked again, to make sure that each child was paired with the correct study partner. Knowing what would be required of each student, the evaluations were also designed to determine how the students would react to and accept the isolation from their friends and family.
Eventually, the new home that had been arranged for them was ready, an abandoned government research facility, in a secluded mountain valley. The site appeared to be perfect; there was enough housing for about three hundred scientists along with their families, assistants, as well as teachers and other necessary support personal. This meant there would be more than enough space for the approximately one hundred fifty students, plus staff.
Naturally, the first to arrive at the new site had been the new security team. A completely new security system was installed, because what was left in the abandoned facility was very outdated.
The first students to arrive were Year H. They spent two weeks assisting in the final preparations of the student’s living quarters. The rest of the students arrived gradually, two to eight days apart, and from different directions.
Elizabeth was watched carefully by her psychiatrist, with whom she had many long talks. Elizabeth blamed herself, although unjustly, for Greg's disappearance and for the forced relocation of the school. It took a long time, and a lot of counseling, before she could accept the fact that she wasn't responsible for Greg’s actions. Unfortunately, she was left with a distrust of the male of the species.
It was unusual for a year to have an odd number of students, but not unheard of. For about seven months Elizabeth, Angelina, and Kimberly made up a three-person study group. It wasn’t until about three months after arriving at the new facility before an appropriate study partner for Elizabeth was located. Because of her severe feelings of guilt concerning Greg, and subsequently distrust of almost all men, it was decided to pair her with a female, or at least another male to female transsexual. After an extensive and exhaustive search, the person whose personality best matched Lizy's, was a loud boisterous young lad who knew that more than anything else he should have been a girl, named Rebecca. This, once again completed year C.
The school delayed the testing and admitting of a new, ‘Year A’ until September of 2002. This gave them time to complete the re-assessment of their testing, research, and evaluation procedures. The conclusion was that a much more in-depth research of each candidate would be done, along with a new two-part testing program. These procedures were adopted by their sister schools, whose existence was known only by a select few.
With the latest in security, as well the new testing and research procedures in place, along with new administration, staff and almost all new psychiatrist's, the school was ready to continue. The mistakes of the past had hopefully been, or were in the process of being, corrected.
One final detail remained, what to call the new faculty. The old faculty had been referred to as Marshallville, because it was located near Marshallville, Ohio. It was felt that using that naming convention was part of the weakness of the old faculty, as it partly revealed the schools location. After several long discussions, it was decided to name the school based upon its primary objective; that is to assist predominantly transgender children, to go from where they are to where they want to be. This process is commonly referred to as transitioning. However, in a geographical sense, moving from where you are, to where you want to be, is referred to as ... Immigration.
Thus, Immigration Manor came to life. A very special school, whose primary goal, is to educated selected transgender children, preparing them for roles they may have never considered for themselves, while helping them become the person that their inner self believes them to be.
After Lizy finished her story, the only dry eyes in the room belonged to Ellen. I think we each used up a box of tissues. Beca had her arms around Lizy, while Mary Beth and I were comforting each other.
After some time had passed, Mary Beth asked, "But why should this rule apply to me ... Or Greg? I don't want to change who I am, I'm guessing he didn't want to change who he was. So why would it be a problem for me to go home?"
“Mary Beth,” Ellen started, “do your parents love you?”
“Yes, of course they do. That’s a silly question,” she replied.
“Of course it’s a silly question. All parents love their children, don’t they?” Ellen asked, while looking at me.
‘I hope she isn’t asking me to answer that? I know that Mom loves me, but as for Dad … I think he stopped loving me when he realized that I just wasn’t going to be the kind of man he wanted me to be.’
Fortunately, Ellen continued. Looking back towards Mary Beth, she asked, “How did your mother act, after she found out that Matilda was … unusual?”
“Well … um, she doesn’t normally, I mean, she didn’t …”
“She wasn’t quite herself, was she?” Ellen asked rhetorically. “Mary Beth, you do know that your mother still loves you, she just doesn’t know how to deal with something or someone she doesn’t understand. So her actions are unpredictable, inappropriate, and out of character for her, am I correct?”
Mary Beth hesitated for a while before responding. I think she was remembering how her mother had been before and after the birthday party. Eventually she nodded in reply.
“Mary Beth, sit back, close your eyes, and relax. … Good, now let me paint a picture for you if I can. The rule doesn't exist, you’re eighteen, you’ve grown into quite an attractive young lady, and you’ve just graduated from this school and have a scholarship to a medical school back east. You go home for a visit after leaving here before going back east. You and your family have a wonderful visit, you’re all sitting around the table having a nice dinner, and someone innocently asks you about the school. You tell them about some of your classes, about the field trips and the choir. You tell them about some of your friends and then you happen to mention Matilda. How do you think your mother react to the knowledge that you and Matilda were roommates?”
“I, I, I don’t …”
“You don’t know? Come now Mary Beth, I think you know how your mother will react. She'll react the same as she did before, won't she? She will start yelling again won’t she? You being eighteen, and considered an adult, will not only get upset, you’ll undoubtedly try to defend the school and its actions. You may even do some yelling of your own, and before you know it you will have told them about Freaky Friday, and the Mix Up Ball, and how the school has helped students like Elizabeth, Rebecca, Matilda, and many, many others. They've all become the loving caring persons that they wanted to be. What will your mother do when she learns that this school has helped all these students, what will she do?”
Mary Beth didn’t say anything, her eyes were open and she appeared to be in shock. Slowly she shook her head.
“I’ve seen it before, Mary Beth. Your mother would be outraged that a school would do such a thing. She would start out slow, but before you know what is happening, she would have told all your aunts and uncles, most of your neighbors, everyone at your church, the supermarket and everyone else she meets. Now how many of those people will react the same way, fearing something that they don’t understand, something that isn't considered normal? They will do exactly the same thing your mother did, they would tell everyone they know.
“Before you know what’s happening, civic leaders and religious leaders throughout the intermountain west will be screaming for an investigation. First, the local police will get involved, then the state police will get dragged into it. All of this publicity will attract the different news services. Overnight what was a closely guarded secret will become headline news across the country. Eventually the Federal Marshals will be asked to help track down the monsters that dare do such inhumane things to innocent children. Someone at the Marshal’s office will remember a case, back in two thousand and two, having to do with the same sort of thing. This time they won’t stop at a local search, they will search the entire country for the school. We will have to shut down, move all the students again, hoping to find a new facility. The problem is that by then it will be very hard to find someplace large enough for us, because of all the publicity. Any place we find will be even more remote than we are here. The school may even have to close permanently. What would happen to the students then? Where would they go? Where could they go? Some of them would be getting ready for the final stages of transition; they would have no place to call home, and no one to help them.”
‘Ellen isn’t pulling her punches. She’s letting us have both barrels. I hope I don’t look like I’m in shock, like Mary Beth does.’
“Now I realize you are very young to have to make such serious decisions, but I have to ask you. Is it inhumane to help people like Rebecca and Elizabeth … and Matilda? Are we monsters to be willing to lovingly help the students here be the persons that they want and need to be?”
The room was silent again, well almost. I couldn’t hear the clock ticking this time, because Lizy was crying and muttering, “No, no, not again, please, not again, we can’t do that again ...” she kept mumbling over and over.
Mary Beth and I held hands as we looked at each other. Beca was lovingly holding Lizy while gently stroking her hair. Ellen sat motionless as she looked at us.
“Well Mary Beth,” Ellen finally broke the near silence. “Will you help us, by helping others?”
‘Mary Beth continued to look at Ellen for a few moments, then she looked at me. I couldn’t help her with her decision, as I’d already made mine; all I could do was look at my partner as I smiled inwardly, somehow knowing that we would always together.’
Eventually Mary Beth smiled at me and I knew she had made her decision. She turned to Ellen and nodded.
“That’s wonderful, thank you,” Ellen said, a smile returning to her face. “There is one more thing I need to ask of you.”
Mary Beth quickly turned back to me, her expression telling me that she was expecting another tragic announcement.
“We can’t tell anyone else about this,” I told her.
“What? The others don’t know?” she quizzed me.
“No,” I replied. “The Years are normally not told until they are in year E. The only reason you and I are so, so ... ‘privileged’, if you can call it that, is that I stuck my nose in where it shouldn’t have been. So you see, my friend, this is my fault. I’m sorry.”
“Remind me to beat you later,” she replied with a half a smile, while holding her arms out for another hug. She was still upset, more so than I was. I knew that as long as we were together, somehow everything would work out all right.
“Well, this has been an eventful day,” Ellen stated. “I guess I’d better send another note of apology to Mrs. Taylor and get the four of you off to choir practice.”
“When you send her the note, apologizing for keeping us late, tell her that we won’t be there at all tonight,” I said with a bit more confidence.
“But there is still plenty of time to get to …” Ellen started.
“There is now, but there won’t be after we raid the kitchen,” I told her.
“Kitchen?” Beca asked.
“I don’t know about the rest of you,” I started, “but when I’ve been this emotionally upset there is only one thing that helps, and it isn't singing.”
Everyone looked at me as if I was about to need a straight jacket. I couldn’t help myself as I giggled. “According to Ellen, Mary Beth and I have, in a small way, been thrust into the role of adults, like it or not. So, as the youngest adult here, I’m making a decision.” I paused as I looked at Beca and Lizy. “We need ice cream, care to join us?”
Everyone broke into laughter; not just laughter, but laughter of agreement. The four of us girls got up and headed for the door.
It took us a while, but we found some ice cream, a five-gallon container of mint chocolate chip. After drowning our sorrows in a large bowl, we went our separate ways.
Beca assured me that Lizy would be okay. I have to admit, she looked a lot better after consuming a large quantity of ice cream, so did Mary Beth. But I knew there would be more tears to come, when we’d had time to think.
It was a bit early for bed, but both Mary Beth and I were exhausted. We got ready for bed quickly, then spent another hour or so talking. It’s funny how you can’t sleep when you're completely exhausted. At least tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have any classes, just afternoon and evening choir practice.
As we were dropping off, we decided that tomorrow we needed to check out the hot tub and get in some well-deserved relaxation.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 9
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 9
We had quite a rough night. It started very late and ended way too early, considering everything that happened yesterday. Not to mention that Mary Beth kept me awake for, I don’t know how long. It was my fault, after all. She cried more than that first night in the hospital. I couldn't do anything for her other than to hold her close, and show her that she's loved.
A girl’s swimsuit, another first for this little Munchkin. I was assembling everything needed for some time in the pool and hot tub, into a small bag I found. I wondered if I should use panties under my swimsuit, to keep my little appendage tucked away, or if the suit would do the job without any assistance. With no prior experience I decided the best thing to do was ask someone with more experience.
After sending a note to Beca, I thought about more information that might be important to have. Sending Dr. Harris a note, I explained our intention and asked if there were any precautions Mary Beth and I should take.
"Hey Munchkin, are we going to come back here after breakfast, or do they have some place for us to change into our swimsuits?" Mary Beth asked, as she came in for her daily wrapping.
"Oh, I'm sorry, yes there's a locker room with private changing rooms, and each one has its own shower. There's a bunch of small lockers to put our regular clothes in while we’re in the pools," I explained.
My PDA beeped as I was getting started on the elastic bandages. It was Beca's reply. "Well, it looks like I'll need to pack some extra panties in my bag."
"Extra panties, why?"
"According to Beca, the swimsuit doesn't provide enough support. I'll need to wear panties underneath to keep things in place."
"Matilda, I've heard you talking about keeping things in place before, but just what are you talking about?"
"First off, I'm not going to give you a demonstration. All you need to know is that they taught me a way of hiding my boy parts so that I can look like a girl, even when I'm wearing a swimsuit. Being that you don't have the same parts, it's something that you'll never have to worry about," I explained.
"I was just wondering, that's all. It seemed to be such a secret," she timidly replied.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like I'm hiding something from you. I'll tell you anything you want to know." With some embarrassment, I went on to paint a word picture, explaining just what goes where and how I use two pairs of panties to keep everything in place.
After I'd finished, Mary Beth thought for a while before responding. First, she hugged me, then she kissed my cheek, then she whispered in my ear, "I didn't mean to embarrass you, but thank you for telling me. Never again will I complain about dressing like a boy for a day. Wearing boy's clothing is nothing compared to what you have to do every day." Mary Beth continued to hug me, in silence, for a few seconds. It might have been longer, but we were interrupted by another beep from my PDA. It was the expected reply from Dr. Harris, with an unexpected complication.
"It looks like it's your turn to be embarrassed," I said apologetically, as I handed her my PDA. The note from Dr. Harris told us that limited activity was okay, no diving, no water polo or volleyball, and no distance swimming. The problem was that Mary Beth had to keep the elastic bandages on under her swimsuit; a dry set would be in her room when we returned.
"As I see it, there are a couple of options," I explained. "The first option would be to wear your camisole and bandages under your swimsuit."
"That would look funny, white lace sticking out from under my dark blue swimsuit. I think I'll pass on that one. What are my other options?"
"Well, when we go down to the lounge, you could have one of the other girls wrap the bandages around you, in the restroom."
"That would work, except for one thing."
"What's that?"
"I haven't figured out which of the other girls are girls, and which of them are special, like you."
"Thank you for that compliment, I'm sure the others will thank you too ..."
"Don't you dare tell them I said that."
Giggling, I agreed, "As you wish. So what do you want to do about the bandages?"
To answer that question Mary Beth started removing the bandages.
"What are you doing?" I asked, just a little nervously.
"There is another option you failed to mention," she replied, as she finished the removal process. She handed me the bandages and pulled her camisole out of her pants.
I quickly turned around, asking, though I’m sure it sounded more like squeaking, "Mary Beth, what are you doing?"
"I’m just getting ready for you to wrap those bandages around me."
"But, but, I can't ..."
"Matilda, would you just turn around and get busy."
"But Mary Beth, you know I've never seen ..."
"Stop stepping on your tongue, just get over here and get on with it, I'm starting to get cold. Why do you keep your room so much cooler than mine?"
"It's just what I'm used to, I guess." I replied, still refusing to turn around. I just knew that she was standing there naked from the waist up.
"Matilda, turn around," she commanded.
Reluctantly I turned around. However, owing to the fact that she didn't say my eyes had to be open, I kept them tightly shut.
"Matilda ... why are your eyes closed?"
"Because I'm not supposed to see you topless," I replied timidly. I'm sure I was blushing.
"I'm glad you feel that way, because I have no intention of letting you see me topless. Now open your eyes and get those bandages on me."
I felt the warmth radiating from my face. I slowly opened my eyes. I was greatly relieved to find Mary Beth holding her camisole in a way that revealed her stomach and most of her ribs, but still covered her breasts. I'm not sure but I think she heard me sigh in relief.
"Don't just stand there, get those bandages on me so I can get dressed," she commanded, breaking me out of a trance.
I quickly wrapped the bandages around her. When I'd finished she dropped the camisole, over the bandages, and kissed my cheek once again. Then she disappeared.
'She can be really confusing sometimes; she gets mad when I kiss her on the cheek, then she kisses me, not once but twice. So if it’s okay for her to kiss me, is she going to get mad if I kiss her again?’
After she left, I collected the last few items and finished packing my bag. I hadn't been in the locker room before, so I didn't know if there were towels available for our use or not. Just to be on the safe side, I put one in my bag. Ready at last, I knocked and waited for permission to enter.
"Entre' my friend."
"Ready to go?"
"I guess. Are there towels in the ..."
"I don't know. I'm taking one just in case."
Mary Beth grabbed a towel and we were off. She carried both our bags on her lap as I pushed. As usual, we were greeted by a barrage of questions as we entered the year lounge.
"Why are you wearing a skirt?
Today is Saturday you know?"
"What are the bags for?"
"How come you two are always the last to get here each morning?"
"Are you coming down to the workshop today?"
"Yeah, it would be good if the project manager helped with the project once in a while."
"Why are your eyes blood shot?"
"Are your classes that tough?"
"They must have a ton of homework."
"Yeah, you two look like you haven't slept in a week."
"Why weren't you two at choir practice, last night?"
"You weren't at dinner either."
"Are you two planning a jail break?"
"Count me in; we need a little excitement around here."
"You two look like death warmed over, what's up?"
All right, some of them were statements, not questions. However, they've taken a turn and are going down a road I'd rather not go down this morning.
Mary Beth motioned for me to bend down, and then she whispered into my ear, "What do you think of our adopted family now?"
I smiled as I replied, "Not exactly what I would have chosen myself, but not bad for a bunch of black sheep."
This had Mary Beth giggling.
"What's this, a private joke?"
"Hey, no private jokes. Tell us the joke."
"Tell us, ... Tell us, ... Tell us, ... Tell us, ..."
I held up my hands to quiet the unruly mob, "Let me see if I can remember all those questions. One, Yes I know that today is Saturday and I'm wearing a skirt because I want to. Two, swimming and hot tub. Three, we're not late, you're early. Four, after swimming. Five, that was a statement not a question but I hope to have more spare time soon. Six, too much crying. Seven, not too tough. Eight, another statement. Nine, far less sleep than were accustomed to. Ten, I'll get back to the next two later. Eleven, sorry no jail break planned. Twelve, I'm sure we can arrange some excitement without resorting to something that extreme. Thirteen, no one has died and therefore there is no need for external warming. Finally, Mary Beth asked me what I thought of our adopted family, and I replied with 'Not bad for a bunch of black sheep.' Although sheep usually travel in herds not bunches."
Everyone sat and stared at me for several moments. Suddenly, someone started clapping and before we knew it, everyone had joined in.
As the applause was dying down Jenny came up beside me and gently asked, "And what about the two you were going to get back to?"
I sighed before saying anything, "Oh yeah, ... um, a three hour session with Ellen, and ..."
"Three hours? What on earth did you do?"
Jenny prodded me to continue, “And?”
“And, we apologize ahead of time if they’re a little short on the Mint Chocolate Chip, tonight.”
“You raided the ice cream?”
“At the time … it was the right thing to do,” I replied sadly, as I rested one hand on Mary Beth’s shoulder.
“And what about that three hours with Ellen?”
“Well … let’s just say we had a lot to talk about,” Mary Beth replied softly, she started sniffling after that.
I leaned down and hugged her, whispering, “At least we have each other.” It was almost two weeks since Mary Beth had used that line on me. It seemed appropriate at the time. She looked up and smiled.
Jenny tried to take my hand. I noticed and pulled it back, “Sorry Jenny, not this time. I need to learn to control my emotions just a bit better." I turned to the group, "Who’s up for some time in the pools?"
"When are you going?"
"What about the workshop? I've run into a snag with getting two separate keyboards to act as one. I need some help with the system," Aaron complained.
"We were planning to go swimming after breakfast, for about an hour. After that we’re going to the workshop," I replied.
"It is not a good idea to go swimming immediately after eating breakfast." Jenny pointed out.
"Oh yeah, I remember mom wouldn't let us go swimming for about an hour after we'd eaten," Mary Beth added. "I guess I forgot about that."
"Perhaps a slight change in plans is needed," I added, maybe this making decisions can be a good thing. "From what I've heard you've all been working very hard. So, as the project manager, I think everyone needs some time off. Here's what I propose, everyone go grab your swimwear and we'll all enjoy some fun and relaxation. After that, we'll join years D - H for breakfast, and then it's on to the workshop. Does that sound like a plan that will make everyone happy?"
The room fell silent, after several moments at least a dozen voices were screaming, "POOL PARTY!" It was utter chaos as everyone jumped up and headed for the door, to get their swimwear.
"This is a good thing ... I think," Jenny said with a smile. "I will send a note to Mr. Peterson explaining our plans."
"I'll take care of that Jenny. After all, it is my idea," I replied. Jenny nodded her acceptance, allowing me to take that responsibility. I didn't tell her that I'd also have to alert Ellen, just in case she had any concerns.
"Matilda," Mary Beth asked, once we were alone, "what about, you know who?"
"Are you referring to the counselor that happens to looks like my Mother?"
"Matilda, what are you trying to do?"
"I worked it all out while I was in the shower. This time I'm going to do the right thing, at least ... I think it’s the right thing. Anyway, nobody here gets to see their family so why should I be any different. Just because my mother happens to work here, doesn't mean that I should be treated any different or have special privileges. I'm going to pretend that my Mother isn't here. Of course, I may need some help from time to time. Can I count on you to help me remember to be a tiny adult, when I want to be an average child and give my Mom a hug?"
"Matilda, you know don't have to ask me that. I'll do anything I can for you. You do realize that I'll need similar help from time to time. I do have one more question, what do we do about Rachael?"
"We don't do anything about Rachael."
"What do you mean?"
"It's simple, we see her every day, just like we have been. She's almost as smart as I am and she'll know that something is wrong if we change our pattern. Of course, we don't tell her anything about what we know. That's a burden that you and I must keep between the two of us."
"Well, would you do me a favor; just stick to finding a way to take care of Bart and leave the school servers alone?"
"All right, I'll try to be a good girl. Um, when would you like to talk about the rest of what I found?"
"WHAT!!! THERE'S MORE?" she cried out, almost yelling.
"Well … I opened several folders before I found the no contact rule. Neither of us was in any condition to talk about anything else last night."
"Matilda, so help me, if you get us into any more trouble, I'm, I’m ... I'm going to hide Nellie and make you sleep alone."
"But I don't mean to get into trouble," I timidly replied, sinking lower into the couch, next to Mary Beth. "It just that trouble ... well ... it sort of follows me around and jumps out when I'm not looking."
When I looked up at Mary Beth, she had such a scowl. After staring at me for what seemed like half the day, the scowl broke into a smile, “Come here Munchkin.”
It didn’t take me long to hop into her lap and give her a hug.
It also didn't take the others long to collect their swimsuits and trunks. Soon we were on our way, to the pools.
Mr. Peterson met us as we were about to go down the stairs to the pool area. "My, my, the whole year is going swimming at the same time. That's unusual."
"It was Matilda's idea," George volunteered.
"Is there a problem with us using the pools this time of day?" I asked.
"Only that none of you have been through our life saving course, and there isn't a lifeguard on duty this early. Not wanting to put a damper on your activity, I've arranged for a volunteer from one of the other years, actually two. They should be downstairs by the pools, by the time all of you have changed. One other thing, seating in the cafeteria with years D through H is a little scarce. You’ll have to spread out, sitting wherever you can find empty seats. The other option would be to use one of the small dining rooms, that way you could all sit together, the choice is yours."
"Thank you for making the arrangements," I replied, on behalf of the group. "You don't have a problem with us joining years D through H?"
"Should I?"
"No, I guess not. Thanks again," I smiled, as I pushed Mary Beth towards the elevator and the others started down the stairs.
"So what was that all about?" Mary Beth asked, after the doors closed, and we were alone.
"What was what about?"
"Asking Mr. Peterson about us being in the cafeteria with the older students."
"Very simple, his reply tells me that Ellen has talked with him about yesterday. They've already started changing the school’s policy about staff members that have a student here. The new policy may not be perfect, but at least other students won't have to go through what I've been through, this week."
"Well, I'm sure that's a good thing."
As the doors opened, we were met by a happy crowd. After we entered the locker room, Mary Beth announced with a giggle, "I just realized, for the next hour or so I don't have to be in this silly wheelchair! We should do this more often."
With the whole year going swimming at the same time, we used all of the changing rooms. Of course, some were faster at changing than others. For future reference, there was a large set of wire shelves loaded with towels, along with a large plastic tub for the wet towels. There were also several tiny washing machines, at least, that’s what they looked like. When I asked Tina about them, she called them spinners. By placing your wet suit inside, closing the lid and pressing the single button, the small drum inside would spin really fast. It would remove almost all of the water from your suit, before taking it back to your room. When I asked about leaving the suits with the towels, I was told that the laundry personnel requested that we not do that.
As we started out of the locker room, a hand on my shoulder startled me. "You're not going in the pool like that, are you?" Christina asked gently.
I looked at her and then I looked at myself, thinking that I wasn't property tucked. Relieved to see no evidence of my male appendage, I again looked into Christina's eyes.
Fortunately, she read the question in my eyes. "The chlorine in the pool will ruin your wig. You need to leave it in the locker with your clothes."
I giggled with relief, I was afraid that I'd broken some new rule. "Thanks for reminding me. I've gotten so accustomed to the long hair that I forgot it isn't really mine."
"I know how you feel. I wore a wig until a few weeks ago. I've finally got enough of my own hair to have it styled in a way I like."
"So, how long did it take to grow?" I asked, wondering when I'll be able to give up the wig.
"I guess the last time my hair was cut was last December. Dad has a family picture taken every year before Christmas. I guess it'll be a few years before he can have another picture taken of the whole family."
Not wanting to reveal anything I shouldn't, I simply nodded in agreement that it would be quite some time.
The next hour was enjoyed by all. We spent about forty-five minutes frolicking around in the main pool, under the watchful eyes of two year H students, before relaxing in the hot tub for fifteen minutes. After a quick shower, we gathered together to discuss the option that Mr. Peterson had given us.
"Does anyone have preference as to the seating arrangements that Mr. Peterson offered?" Aaron asked.
"Well, I for one think we should sit together," George volunteered.
"But if we spread out among the rest of the school there's a chance of learning from the older students," Misa added.
"That's true," Tina agreed. "We could ask questions about the mystery group, the field trip to Toronto and the sudden addition of Quebec, not to mention what happens around here for the holidays."
"I do not think any of you will feel like asking questions about the mystery group or the trip to Quebec," Jenny interjected. "Remember, even though there is enough space for us to filter in, there will be a psychiatrist or counselor at each table. I doubt any of you will feel comfortable asking those questions with them there. As to the subject of the upcoming holidays, I'm sure we will be informed soon. If not, then Aaron and I can ask Mr. Peterson."
"If we use the small dining room, it'll probably just be us there. I don't think they will have scheduled anyone to be there with us," I added.
"Hey, that's right. This whole morning has been so different from any other, they're still probably trying to figure out what we're doing," Wally chuckled. "I vote for eating alone."
"A vote sounds like a good idea," Vikk added.
"Very well, a vote it is," Aaron conceded. "All those in favor of sitting as a group, possibly without any adults around, raise a hand."
"Well," Jenny giggled, "it looks like everyone likes the idea of having a meal without adult supervision. It is agreed, we sit together."
With that settled, we went up to the small dining room, which had been prepared with two long tables. After selecting our places and leaving our bags by our chairs, no need to carry damp swimwear around, we all headed for the serving area. As most of the school didn't know about our unscheduled activity, they were surprised when all of year A suddenly appeared.
Knowing how upset Lizy was yesterday, I looked for Beca and Lizy. I was relieved to see both of them, although they looked like they hadn't slept much. On the other hand, Mary Beth and I didn't get much sleep last night either, our morning swim helped us look less wiped-out.
"Hey, there's a new face," Morgan pointed out. "Did the school hire a new psychiatrist?"
Looking in the indicated direction, I sighed to myself. Then, without skipping a beat announced, "That's a new counselor, her name is Edith. I understand she is very kind and understanding."
"And just how do you know that she's a new counselor?" Tina inquired.
"Ellen introduced us, when I was going through girl training," I replied simply, not volunteering any additional information. A little white lie that I hoped wouldn't come back to haunt me later.
By the time Mary Beth and I had gotten our breakfasts and returned to the dining room, I'd received a new message.
Morning Munchkin,
I hope you and Mary Beth are feeling better.
You two look better than Lizy and I do.
The early morning swim must have done you both
a lot of good. Maybe we'll join you next time.
If either of you need to talk, you know where to
find us.See you around.
Love, your big sister, Beca.
P. S. Try to behave yourself and stay out of
trouble. :-)>
I was giggling as I thought about Beca's last sentence. Of course, Mary Beth wanted to know why, so I showed her Beca's note. She didn’t understand what was funny about it. By now, those around us were curious as well.
I told them about the note, but only read the last line to them. I then explained, "It's funny because I always behave myself, and I'm always in trouble. Perhaps I should reverse it, that is, try not behaving myself, maybe then trouble wouldn't follow me around all the time."
"But Matilda, you're not in trouble all the time," Misa pointed out. "In fact you've kept the rest of us out of trouble."
"True enough," Em added. "If it weren't for you we'd have probably done something silly after the Halloween Ball."
"Yea, If it wasn't for you we'd have been the one's wearing them pink dresses, instead of those three from year C," George confessed.
"Yes, Matilda's an angel," Mary Beth agreed, and sarcastically continued. "If you ignore the part about taking a few too many sleeping pills, playing the part of a long lost princess, sneaking out of the hospital, doing a little sleep walking, possibly having a split personality, hacking the computer system, and let's not forget, being out after curfew."
I could have offered a rebuttal. After thinking about it for a second, I shrugged one shoulder and gave a silly smile, "Oh well, nobody's perfect." Everyone giggled at my response.
After everyone leisurely finished their breakfasts and returned the wet things to their rooms, several of us headed down to the workshop.
The problem Aaron was having had to do with trying to interface two wireless keyboard systems into one computer, even though we were only using half the key inputs on each system. Aaron couldn't find a way of setting up for simultaneous keyboard inputs. It seems that Aaron’s skills didn't go as deep into machine level programming as mine did, at least not at that time. I logged into the network with my PDA and worked my way into the test computer that RJ had provided. I spent the better part of two hours trying to find a way of doing something that was never intended. Aaron and I decided that we needed input from RJ. For our first prototype, we would have to run wires between the two keypads, so both keypads fed into one wireless transmitter. Our final design would have both keypads wireless, but in the meantime, we would accept a wired version or two. By Sunday afternoon, our first design was ready for field-testing, that is we thought it was ready.
Mary Beth and I went to visit Rachael at our customary time. Following our visit, we went to church and then to the workshop. Aaron, George, and Tina had finished wiring the keypads together. Not wanting the wires to be in the way, or accidentally pulled out, they made the wires long enough to follow the traction ropes that support Rachael's arms to the ceiling and back down. I quickly joined in and the four of us began testing our invention.
As lunchtime approached, the four of us were deep into the throes of troubleshooting and on the verge of success. Not wanting to abandon our project when we were so close, the four of us decided to skip lunch. We sent our study partners to lunch, figuring there was no sense them just sitting around starving while we were working, they on the other hand had other ideas. The four of us were surprised when the doors of the workshop opened and our study partners returned, shortly after they'd left. Across the arms of Mary Beth's wheelchair was a large metal tray, covered with a selection of breads, meats, cheese, and other sandwich fixings, along with an assortment of bottled beverages. Not only did they fix our sandwiches for us after asking what we wanted, but they cut the sandwiches into bite size pieces and fed us. Being fed, bite by bite really felt funny, but kind of nice at the same time. Later that night I found out that the whole lunch idea had been Mary Beth's doing.
Once the system was working, we shut it down and loaded everything onto the tray, which had been used previously for carrying lunch. As we were walking to the hospital, I logged into the schools secure server and accessed the locator system, just to make sure Rachael didn't have another visitor.
"What are all of you doing here?" Rachael asked, surprised to have so many visitors show up at the same time.
"We have a present for you sis. Meet your computer," I replied with a smile, stepping aside so Rachael could see better. "She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts. We've made some special modifications ..."
"Hey guys, this is an historic moment," George exclaimed. "She's not quoting Star Trek."
"Yes, historic," Jenny agreed. "But she does not do a very good Han Solo."
"So who was trying to do Han Solo?" I asked. "I was doing Leigh, doing Solo."
"But Leigh wasn't in that scene," George shot back.
"True, but they're right; I do a very bad impersonation of Han. It was just my turn to be goofy; I haven't done anything crazy for about, oh let's see, thirty-six hours."
"Yes, well, goofy is okay," Mary Beth started. "You do anything that crazy again and I'll, I'll ... well ... whatever I do you won't like." She found herself stumbling over her words, trying not to spill the beans.
I was tempted to give her a hug but decided that wouldn't be a good idea with the others around. I settled for my sad puppy dog face and a promise, "I'm sorry, I promise, I won’t go out looking for trouble anymore."
"But, Matilda never tries to get into trouble," Rachael said, figuratively rushing to my defense.
"Of course she doesn't," Aaron joined in. "It only seems that way."
"Yes, it only seems like she gets into trouble on a daily basis," George added with a chuckle.
"All right, that's enough heckling for now," I giggled, as I shook my head. "Let's get this computer hooked up. Aaron, there should be an Ethernet connection in here someplace. You guys start putting the system back together and I'll round up a tall cart or table to put the monitor on. It won't do any good if Rachael can't see it. George, Tina, please get started electrifying Rachael's casts."
"WHAT!" Rachael cried out.
"Relax, it won't hurt ... much," I teased, as I left the room.
Marie let me take one of those adjustable table / carts things, you know the ones that stand by the bed in hospital rooms, from one of the empty rooms.
"Electrify my cast," Rachael echoed sarcastically, as I entered her room. "You keep teasing me like that and when I get out of here I'll get even. I'll arrange for you to spend some time in here so I can tease you."
Everyone was giggling as Rachael was trying to threaten me.
"Oh come now, you know that I'd never, knowingly, let anyone hurt you," I passed the cart to Aaron and gave Rachael a gentle hug.
As soon as the monitor had warned up, I started to show Rachael how to log into the system so she could access the on-line library.
Mary Beth interrupted me as soon as I got started, "Matilda, maybe you should let Aaron teach Rachael how to get what she needs. I'm not sure you can log into the network without, well ... without being you."
I stopped in mid sentence and looked at Mary Beth, shocked that she would say something like that.
"After all Matilda, Aaron is our year’s computer systems specialist," Jenny softly reminded.
"Matilda isn't the computer specialist?" Rachael asked.
"No," Jenny replied, as she put an arm around my shoulders to calm me down. "Matilda's assigned specialty is security systems. While, it is true that most security systems are computerized, there are many that are not. Learning the non-computerized systems will be one of her challenges."
I knew that Jenny and Mary Beth were right. This was Aaron's responsibility, and after thinking about it for a moment, I realized that Aaron and RJ would have discussed where Rachael should and shouldn't have access. "Sorry Aaron, I guess I did get carried away. If you would be so kind as to teach Rachael what she needs to know."
I moved so Aaron could take my place next to Rachael. Slipping behind everyone, I decided to take the opportunity to visit with Mother Nature. After I'd finished, and exited the bathroom, I leaned against the bathroom door listening and thinking.
'How could Mary Beth do that? Rachael's my sister and I should be teaching her the system! ... although, Aaron is doing a good job. It looks like he's done some teaching before, probably the others in year A. Maybe I should listen to Mary Beth more often ... wait a second, Mary Beth, maybe, Mary Beth, maybe, maybe, no not maybe , its may be, or rather May Bee. Bee's are always busy, like Mary Beth usually is. By dropping the r from Mary you get May. I think I've just come up with a nickname, May Bee, say it fast and you've got MayBee. I like it, I'm sure that Mary Beth will be okay with it. After all, it's innovative, original, and in no way derogatory. The only question is, what would be the best way to announce this to everyone? … ummmm … I've got it!'
I got out my PDA and created an announcement. Then I accessed the network. Maneuvering through the network, I worked my way into Rachael's computer as a remote administrator. While Aaron was teaching in the foreground, I went into the background. I downloaded my announcement and set it up as Rachael’s desktop background. I couldn't help myself, I was giggling at my cleverness.
"Matilda, what's so amusing?" Tina whispered,
"Just a little surprise for a friend," I snickered.
It seemed that Aaron spent hours with Rachael, teaching her what information was available and where she could find what she needed. Waiting for them to discover my note while having to stifle my giggles was like waiting for a pot to boil, it was excruciatingly painful.
Eventually Aaron finished and they closed all of the open windows. Suddenly, big as life, filling the entire screen was my surprise announcement for all to see.
It gives me great pleasure to announce
that after four years, I have finally come up with the perfect nickname
for my dear friend and study partner,
Mary Beth.
Henceforth her official nickname will be,
MayBee,
if she accepts.
Your ever loveable Munchkin.
"Matilda, what's this?" Aaron demanded. That wasn't quite the reaction I'd expected.
"What's, what?" I replied shyly, trying to hide in the corner. I wasn't hiding from Aaron's boisterous response to being surprised, but rather from Mary Beth. Seeing how Aaron had responded, I suddenly wasn't sure how Mary Beth would react.
"What's this on the screen? While I've been teaching Rachael; you came in through the network and have been playing in the background," Aaron complained.
Jenny placed a hand on Aaron's arm, "Relax Aaron, she has not caused any harm, nothing that cannot be changed. Have you read the message? I think Matilda chose a rather ingenious way to making an announcement."
Slowly Mary Beth rotated her wheelchair to find me, as those behind her moved out of her way. She giggled when she saw me in the corner, trying to hide in a shadow. Gently she commanded, "Come here, Munchkin!" indicating that I should stand before her.
It's hard not to look like a scared little girl, when that's exactly what you are. It didn't help that everyone in the room was taller than I am. It seemed to take me an hour, as I nervously crossed the six-foot expanse that separated me from Mary Beth. It’s odd how time seems to stand still when you think something bad is going to happen. Eventually, I stood in front of Mary Beth with the others looking on.
"All right Matilda, tell me how you did that," she requested.
I started to describe how I'd gotten into Rachael's computer through the network, when Mary Beth stopped me.
"Not that! I'll never understand how you do what it is that you do with computers. I want to know how you came up with such a strange nickname as MayBee." The others nodded, agreeing with Mary Beth's request for an explanation.
"Oh that, I was just thinking that maybe I should listen to you more often. Then ‘Mary Beth’, and ‘maybe’, kept going around and around together, in my mind, until maybe became two words, may, and be. Well, May is a beautiful month, flowers blooming, birds singing, and bee's buzzing around. Then I dropped the ‘r’ from Mary and the ‘th’ from Beth and I had ‘may’ and ‘be’. Then I added a second ‘e’ and it became MayBee."
The scowl on Mary Beth's face told me she wasn't exactly happy with what I'd done. I decided it was time to play dot to dot with the random pattern of speckles in the tile floor. I'd created a dog and a cat, and was working on a dragon when a hand crossed my field of vision. Gently, it lifted my head via my chin.
I was again looking into Mary Beth's eyes, and she was smiling. "It's okay, Munchkin. It is a good nickname and I'll accept being called MayBee."
"You will? I mean, you really like it?" I asked excitedly.
"Yes I like it, once you explained how you came up with it. The reason I was upset was that you announced it without talking to me first."
"I thought it was clever," I mumbled.
"It was clever," Tina agreed.
"But Mary Beth is correct. You should have talked with her first," Sue added.
"I'll remember next time. We do talk about almost everything. It’s just that this was a spur of the moment inspiration."
"There's nothing wrong with spur of the moment inspiration," Aaron admitted, with a caution. "It's the spur of the moment actions that get you into trouble. Isn't that right George?"
George didn't exactly reply to the rather pointed question. He kind of growled as he checked the time. "Shouldn't we be getting to choir practice?"
"Oh my, yes! With everything that has taken place, we have almost missed practice," Jenny exclaimed.
We quickly said our farewells and rushed out. It isn't often you see anyone running between the buildings, however, the eight of us made the trek from the hospital to the administration building in one fourth the time normally required. The only one that wasn't exhausted as we rushed into the theater, and in any condition to sing, was Mary Beth. We expressed our apologies to Mrs. T, explaining that we'd lost track of the time while visiting Rachael.
The rest of the evening was uneventful. Well, choir practice and dinner were uneventful. As we were going back to the lounge, I received a note from Ellen. She wanted to see both Mary Beth and me just before six o’clock.
"What did you do now?" Mary Beth scolded, as she read Ellen's note.
"Who me? I haven't done anything … well, not today," I professed my innocence. "I thought perhaps you'd snuck in some mischief while I wasn't looking."
As requested, we appeared at the appointed time, knocking on Ellen's office door.
"Come in," Ellen called out. Mary Beth turned the knob as I gently push her forward. "Good evening girls, I'm glad you were able to see me on such short notice."
"You mean we had a choice?" Mary Beth asked, sarcastically.
"Well, technically, yes. I can't force you to see me," Ellen responded, as she got up from her desk, inviting us to sit on a couch. "I do hope you trust me so I may help when you have needs or challenges."
I'd noticed a change in the arrangement of Ellen's office, the moment we entered. In the corner behind the circle of couches was a large television. There was a remote control on the coffee table, which I assumed went with the TV.
"Of course, we trust you Ellen," Mary Beth replied. "After all you've done for us in the last two weeks … has it only been two weeks? Anyway, I was just being silly."
"That's a relief, for a moment I thought that you two might be startling a rebellion," Ellen was obviously doing a little teasing of her own.
"A rebellion? Us? How could you suspect such a thing? I'm wounded,” I professed very over dramatically. “Pierced to the heart by such an accusation," I replied with mock surprise, clutching my heart with one hand and falling backward onto a couch as if I’d fainted.
Laughing, Ellen requested of Mary Beth, "Would you be so kind as to revive your overacting, study partner?"
"Sure, the only question is how to do it, these things must be done delicately," Mary Beth’s chuckle, was reminiscent of the laugh of the Wicked Witch of the West. "Let’s see, Goldilocks was revived when she heard the bears. I don't look or sound like a bear, so growling won't work. Snow White and Sleeping Beauty both had a handsome prince wake them with a kiss. I don't think I qualify as a prince, even if I were dressed as Hunter. Perhaps we could get Joseph to come wake her."
The two of them were giggling. Me, I was enjoying the show, with both of them playing off each other.
"I'm sure that Joseph would be all too happy to kiss our sleeping princess, but we simply don't have the time to wait for him to come over," Ellen laughed.
"Well, there is another way to wake our small sleeping princess, although it might have some negative side effects."
'Uh oh, what is she up to?'
"And just what would that be?”
"What would which be? The other way of arousing our sleeping princess, or what would the negative side effects be."
"What would be the other method of waking our fainted princess?" Ellen inquired.
'Don't say it! Don't you dare say it!'
"Oh, that's easy, we tickle her," Mary Beth stated, with an evil chuckle.
'I'll get her for this. She knows how ticklish I am. I guess I have a choice; stay here and hope they don't, or put an end to this little melodrama right now. Hmm, sometimes decisions can be hard, is there another option?'
"I see. Knowing our Munchkin's other challenges, I think I know what the negative side effect would be. When is the last time she ..." Ellen was obviously considering the option when Mary Beth cut her off.
"Just before we left the lounge, to come see you."
"Perhaps we could risk it this time. Would you like to do the honors, or should I?"
'That’s it, I'm doomed.'
"Oh, I think on this occasion we should make this a joint effort. However, before we exercise our fingers in an attempt to wake her, do you have any ear plugs?"
"You're telling me she's a screamer."
"Deafening!"
'Just try me. You think you've heard me scream before, you just wait.'
"Well, it's almost six o'clock so we don't have time to send out for ear plugs. I guess we'll just have to risk it. Perhaps tickling with one hand while holding our other hand over one ear, that way we'll only go deaf in one ear."
As I heard them approach, I rolled off the couch and dropped to my hands and knees. Amid giggles from both Ellen and Mary Beth, I scurried behind the next couch, an action that was hard to accomplish while wearing a long dress.
"Well I must say, you played that as long as you could," I heard Ellen say, with a smile in her voice.
"Just having a little fun," I replied, as I poked my head up from behind the couch. "What's so important about six o'clock?"
"Come sit down and I'll explain," Ellen answered, as she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. After we were all seated, she continued. "There's something on tonight's newscast that I think will be of interest to both of you."
We were quiet as the newscast began:
"Good evening, this is your Eye Witness News at Six.
Tonight's top story comes out of West Valley City, where yesterday, local police and FBI agents, in a coordinated effort, made a late night raid on a small estate in the foothills of the Oquirrh Mountains. A dozen men and four women were taken into custody. Evidence found at the estate indicates that all sixteen have been involved with, and are all charged with, multiple counts of child abuse, child pornography, the distribution of child pornography, and involvement in the child slavery market. Also found on the estate was a large drug lab with large quantities of hallucinogens, tranquilizers, and something called 'Lights Out.' We've been informed that 'Lights Out' is something new on the illegal drug market and child pornography syndicates; it's used to cause limited amnesia in their victims so, if caught, they can't testify in court because they can't remember. Last night's raid also succeeded in freeing twelve children, ranging in age from five to thirteen. A group of local psychiatrist's, headed by Jill Morgan, have volunteered to help with the long term care that the children will require. As for the . . ."
Throughout the report, they showed numerous photos of the estate, some of the interior, the drug lab, the small rooms where we guessed the children had been kept. Mary Beth gasped when a photo of the garage was shown.
"Ellen, Matilda, that's it, that's the van," Mary Beth cried out.
"What van?" I asked.
"The white van!" Mary Beth exclaimed. When I didn't respond she went on, "The white van that Bart and his thugs threw you into, three times a week, during lunch."
I looked back and forth between Ellen, the TV, and Mary Beth, trying to remember the events as she had described them. In the end, I just stared at my partner with a puzzled look.
"MATILDA!" she cried out. I could see the anguish in her eyes. "You have to remember."
"Mary Beth, please relax," Ellen cautioned. "Matilda, would you come here please."
I slowly got up and moved to stand in front of Ellen. She took my hands into hers and looked into my eyes for several seconds before she spoke. "You honestly don't remember anything about being in that white van, who was there, or what was or was not done to you?"
I stood motionless for a time before slowly shaking my head.
"That's all right dear," Ellen said softly, letting go of my hands. "Matilda, I'd like to have a look at the back of your neck if I may, would you turn around please?"
I complied with her request and slowly turned. Ellen gently pushed down on my shoulders, indicating that I should drop to my knees. Tilting my head down, she moved my hair so she could examine my neck, from my shoulders to my skull. After a few moments, she gently put my hair back in place.
"Thank you dear," she said sadly, as she straightened up and sat back in her chair. "Matilda you may return to the couch to sit with Mary Beth."
After I sat down Mary Beth put her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close, I think she was crying. It was several moments before anyone spoke.
"Matilda, as I suspected, you have been a victim of those monsters. The evidence is clearly visible."
"What evidence?" Mary Beth asked.
"The track marks on the back of her neck," Ellen softly replied.
"Track marks?" I inquired.
"Sorry, that's a slang term. It’s used when referring to multiple puncture marks in the skin. The term is most commonly used by drug addicts and diabetics."
"But I've never ..."
"Of course you haven't," Ellen interrupted me. "These puncture marks are in a location that couldn't be self inflicted. You’ve received multiple injections, from someone else. There's no medical reason for injections at the base of the skull. The only other explanation is that you were injected with 'Lights Out.' Presumably, after each episode in the van, just before you were dropped off at your school. The only question in my mind is why … why did they release you each time, instead of taking you back to the estate."
"Well ... I'm actually happy with how things turned out," Mary Beth confessed with a sniffle, adding a little humor to what was turning into a rather gloomy conversation.
"Oh I agree, we're all very pleased to have Matilda with us." Changing her focus, Ellen turned to me, "Unfortunately, because you can't remember who was in the van or what did or did not happen, I'm afraid that you'll need to be tested. I’m sorry; we put this off as long as we could. I was hoping that you would remember more, and then these tests could have been avoided."
"Tested? Tested for what?" Mary Beth asked.
I looked up into Mary Beth's eyes. Sadly, I said "HIV."
“That’s one of the things you will need to be tested for,” Ellen added solemnly, she never took her eyes off me.
“One?” squeaked Mary Beth.
“Yes, HIV is only one. There’s a variety of sexually transmitted diseases that she’ll need to be tested for.”
“But … I’ve been in the pool … with the rest of the year,” I said, moving away from Mary Beth. “I don’t want to … well, infect anyone else.”
“Matilda, none of the infections we’re worried about can be spread that way. Certainly not through normal contact like touching, so there’s no need to shy away from Mary Beth. If you’ll come with me, we need to see Dr. Harris.”
“What should I do?” Mary Beth wondered aloud.
“There’s no reason that you can’t accompany Matilda. I know that she was with you after Dr. Harris examined you.”
We got up and I went to Mary Beth’s wheelchair. She stood by the couch, looking at me.
“What?” I asked.
“It doesn’t seem right for you to be pushing me around,” she sadly replied.
“What are you talking about? You still have cracked ribs and your activities are restricted, Dr. Harris’s orders.”
“I know, but … well it’s just that, ... with you having …”
“Hold it right there MayBee. I pushed you around last week, yesterday, and today; and I’m pretty sure that pushing you back to the hospital one more time isn’t going to kill me. So get over here and sit down.”
"But?"
"That's right, I want you to come over here and gently put your butt in this chair."
"Ellen?" Mary Beth called, trying to recruit some support.
"Don't look at me! Matilda's correct, you have the more immediate need. Whatever Matilda might have won't cause her any problems, at least not until you're fully recovered."
Slowly, and while shaking her head, Mary Beth sat in the wheelchair. To my surprise, Ellen asked me to open the door as she got behind the wheelchair and started pushing Mary Beth. After we'd left her office, Ellen stepped aside and allowed me to resume what I'd accepted as my duty. Admittedly, a very pleasant duty, one that I gladly accepted as it allowed me to be of service to my dear friend.
As we were making our way to the hospital, we were obviously missing choir practice again, Ellen asked, "Matilda, what did you call Mary Beth, while we were in my office?"
"In your office? ... Oh! It was MayBee. That's her new nickname."
"Yes, my good friend, the mischievous munchkin, came up with that silly nickname," Mary Beth moaned sarcastically.
"But you said that it was a good nickname and it was okay to use," I replied, defending myself. "If you want we can go back to Pinkie."
"No, no, MayBee is fine. In fact, it's a great name, and yes, I did say it was okay to use. I'm just teasing a little."
"Oh you," I complained, as I patted the top of her head. "What am I going to do with you?"
Ellen was chuckling as Mary Beth and I went back and forth. Finally she asked how I'd come up with such an unusual nickname. I related the story from earlier that day; of being in Rachael's room setting up her computer system and how I came up with the nickname. Ellen seemed impressed with both my reasoning, in the creation of the nickname, and that in just over a week we had a working system for Rachael.
Dr. Harris was waiting for us, "Good evening ladies. If you'll come with me we'll take care of the business at hand and you can be on your way."
I looked up at Ellen and quietly asked, "He already knows why we’re here?"
"Yes, Dr. Harris is involved in the health of every student here. Naturally, he was informed that you might have a problem. He wanted to run the tests the first day you were here. I convinced him to wait, hoping that you could provide information that would make these tests unnecessary."
"Sorry I wasn't more helpful," I mumbled softly.
"That's all right Dear, nothing to be sorry about. We'll just run the tests and then we’ll deal with whatever we find."
Dr. Harris led us into a small examination room. He had his back to me as he washed his hands, as he told me what he would be doing, "All right Matilda, if you would please take off your coat and hop up on the table, I just need a couple of tubes of blood, from your arm, to send out to be tested."
"I guess I'm not exactly dressed for this occasion," I giggled as I removed my coat, revealing the long sleeve dress I'd worn to church.
Dr. Harris chuckled when he turned around, "Well, it is a very nice dress. Getting to your arm is going to be a bit awkward, though."
I knew that the end of the sleeve was too tight to push up past my elbow. At that time, I only saw one option.
"Oh well, everyone here has seen me undressed before," I stated, as undid the button at the back of my dress, and started fumbling with the zipper.
Ellen moved behind me to assist, and commented, "Not so fast, young lady, it's not proper to get completely undressed if it isn't necessary." I turned my head to look at Ellen, questioningly. "Let's try extracting one arm before we resort to disrobing."
With Ellen's help, I was able to remove my right arm from the sleeve of the dress, revealing only a portion of my silk camisole. Dr. Harris was very professional. He extracted blood into three different test tubes. Oddly, he labeled them Jayne Doe 92994. When I inquired about the labeling, Dr. Harris informed us that the school didn't have the equipment or supplies to perform the needed tests, owing to the fact that they'd never had the need until now. He would be taking the samples to a clinic in Ogden and they would relay the results back to him in a day or two.
After Dr. Harris had finished with me, Ellen escorted us back to our rooms. I picked up Nellie, along with her trunk, before sitting on the couch with Mary Beth. Ellen pulled the desk chair over and we talked while I changed Nellie's clothes and brushed her strawberry blonde hair.
'No, I didn't revert into the personality of a six-year-old like I did that first night, but I sure wished I could have. We didn't discuss anything important, trivial things like life and death, goals and dreams, the choices we make in life and their consequences … Like I said nothing important. I wish I didn't know about the "no contact rule." I really, really want to climb into my Mother's lap, to be held by her, and cry for a day or two. Talking with Ellen just isn't the same.'
Ellen eventually left me in the care of Mary Beth, who'd changed into her nightgown while Ellen and I talked. After Ellen left, Mary Beth helped me put away Nellie's things, then took off my shoes and stockings. Without any argument on my part, she led me into my bathroom and removed my dress and slip, leaving me to attend to, more personal matters. She returned about twenty minutes later to find me sitting on the toilet, panties around my knees, crying.
I realized that I was no longer alone when a towel landed on my lap. Looking up I saw a very concerned Mary Beth peering at me from the door. "Cover yourself," she instructed gently. After I rearranged the towel, covering myself, Mary Beth came over and stood next to me. Taking some tissue, she wiped away my tears, and then with some dry tissue she covered my nose and said "Blow." Then she slipped a nightgown over my head and worked my arms into the sleeves.
Putting her arms around me, she whispered, "Were you planning on spending the night in here?"
I shrugged my shoulders, as I sniffled and tried to push her arm away.
"Now what's that about? You think you can push me away so easily? Well, think again! I'm not going anywhere."
"B, But I d … don't want to in … infect you."
"Would you answer a question for me, who has been sleeping in whose arms for the last two weeks?"
"B … But ..."
"No buts! Whatever you might have, and I repeat MIGHT have, I'm probably already infected with it, IF it’s that contagious. I wonder if they know that we're still sleeping together. ... Probably not, if they did, they would have had Dr. Harris test my blood as well. Oh well, I guess that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that you finish up in here. Nellie and I will be waiting on your bed. If you're not out in ten minutes I'm coming in after you." With that warning, Mary Beth left me alone.
About twelve minutes later, I slowly emerged from the bathroom. True to her word, Mary Beth was sitting on my bed, holding Nellie and Samantha. “Come here best friend. You look like you need a hug.”
“I could use something a little stronger than a hug. You wouldn't happen to have some laughing gas, would you?"
"Sorry, no."
"How about a small time machine, or perhaps a magic mirror?”
“Now there’s the Munchkin we all know and love. Let’s get some sleep. You’ll see; The sun'll come out tomorrow.”
"Don't you start singing."
"But I thought you liked my singing voice?"
"I do, I think you sing like an angel. Just not right now, and not THAT song."
Chuckling, Mary Beth consented to my request, "All right, but I still want you in bed."
“But it isn’t even eight o’clock.”
“Well, you have been complaining about not getting enough sleep, time to catch up. Come on, get under these covers,” she commanded, as she stood by the side of my bed holding the blankets.
“Oh all right, but I’m not tired and I’m not going to sleep.”
“Of course you’re not. Just lie down and hug Nellie while I pull the covers up. That’s a good girl. I see you left your bathroom light on; you know, it makes a pretty good night light. I’ll turn off the bedroom lights and crawl in … Z Z Z z z z z
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 10
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
or the next day .. or maybe the day after that.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 10
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.
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”?
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 11
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Would you like one slap or two?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 11
The next day was great! I couldn't have been happier. As for my new PDA, it will take a little getting used, to but so far, it appears to run much faster than the old one. It didn't take me long to re-establish my links into the different servers. For now, I left Joshua alone. I stumble into enough trouble without going out and looking for it. I recalled my data from Beca's computer and was back on Bart's trail before noon.
The only bad news for the day came while Mary Beth and I were visiting Rachael,
"Hi sis, how is everything in the land of plaster and Popsicle sticks?" I teased.
"Keep it up sis, I'll find a way to get back at you." Rachael's comeback indicated she wasn't her normal happy self.
"Okay Sis, what's wrong?" I asked seriously, as I started brushing her hair.
"Well, when your whole world consists of two things; first, concentrating on mending your bones and second, having a computer to keep your mind active. Last night my whole world came crashing down around my ankles. Wait, I'm sort of in a seated position, I guess that makes it crashing down around my butt," she complained, trying to be funny.
I finished with her hair and moved around to face her. "So, what happened since we were here yesterday?"
"After you left, Marie took me to get some x-rays of my arms and legs. The bones in my right leg aren't growing like they're supposed to. Dr. Harris came in about 8:00 last night and talked with me. He is going to take the cast off and make some changes. He didn't go into too much detail, when he described it to me. Of course he didn’t have to; I could tell from the way he was talking, this isn't a good thing. On top of that, this … this stupid keyboard of yours quit working."
"What are you talking about? It was working great yesterday." I started to look at our invention, trying to determine what might have gone wrong.
"Never mind that," Mary Beth complained. "Tell us what's wrong with your leg."
"Oh, Dr. Harris was talking with Mom and Malcolm about it, just after breakfast. They were kind of quiet; I don't think they knew I could hear them. Anyway, Dr. Harris said that because of the way the bone was splintered, they aren’t growing the way they should. He told them that he‘d have to open up my leg. I think he said he was going to, umm … shave the bone, hoping to get it growing in the right direction"
"That's ... That's horrible!" Mary Beth cried, jumping out of her chair to hug Rachel.
"You're telling me? It's MY leg. Last Monday was the first day they didn't have to give me any kind of painkiller. I'm just starting to feel good, other than the fact that I can only move my fingers and head. And now it's going to start all over again." Rachael broke down and started crying.
We were both hugging my little sister as best we could, considering her condition. All we could do try to give her some momentary comfort, there was nothing either of us could say to change things or take away the pain she felt. Pain caused by an overgrown child who took pleasure in causing others to suffer.
'Apparently, the legal system can't do anything to stop Bart; that's their problem. Nothing will stop me from finding a way to bring his reign of terror to an end. How long it takes doesn't matter, I will find a way.'
Mary Beth and I stayed with Rachael longer than we should have and yes we were late for choir practice, again. By the time we left her, she was feeling better about what Dr. Harris would have to do to fix her leg. She wasn't happy about it, but she was feeling better. We also found out what was wrong with Rachael's computer, it seems that the wireless keyboard had failed. The trackball was still working which wasn't surprising, being that it has its own power, transmitter, and receiver. With just the trackball running, she was limited to reading, where all you need is a pointer and a select button. Rachael described the other things she'd been doing with her computer, Spelling, English, Math, Science, History, and Geography; for some reason that list sounded vaguely familiar.
Our Thursday evening appointment with Ellen turned out better than the last few had been. At least neither of us left Ellen's office crying. We were also on time to choir practice; I think Mrs. T was in shock.
Friday, I had more time to myself. I thoroughly reviewed the information I'd found concerning the Roberts family, on the District Attorney's network. It didn't reveal anything about their past or extended family. The next place to look was at the Salt Lake County Department of Public Records. You would think that a system that contained personal records for so many people would have a tougher security system. I was successful in finding birth certificates for Bart and his parents, along with their marriage certificate. I now had the names of Bart's grandparents. More importantly, I had the starting point of a trail to follow.
After dinner on Friday, the whole year gathered in the lounge, mostly in small groups depending on their interest at that time.
Aaron called for everyone’s attention, standing he asked the question, "We all had such a good time in the pool last Saturday. Who thinks it would be a good idea to do it again?"
There was an explosion of voices in the room, all of them calling out a positive reply.
Covering his ears, Aaron waited for less volume, laughing he continued, "I'll take that as a yes. Can I assume that we would like the use of the small dining room as well?"
Once again Aaron covered his ears and chuckled at the volume of the reply.
"Okay, okay, that was also a yes. I'd make Jenny ask this next question, but I'm already standing. Who thinks we should make this a regular year A activity, that is, should we go swimming every Saturday morning?"
Aaron was laughing as he sat down quickly. I think he was trying to get below the noise level.
Jenny stood up after we quieted down a bit, "Very well, we will contact Miss Anderson and Mr. Peterson to make the arrangements. Is there any chance that we could talk everyone into getting up an hour early, that way we could have breakfast at our appointed time and place?"
I thought our little group was loud when they answered Aaron's questions; that was nothing compared to the volume of their negative response brought about by Jenny's question.
Jenny was laughing as she waited for quiet to be restored. "I did not think so, but your response made the asking worthwhile."
Jenny and Aaron joined Mary Beth and I on our leisurely walk to choir practice.
"Matilda, I believe I owe you an apology," Jenny started, definitely getting my attention. "Last week when you made the suggestion that we all go swimming together, I wasn't very enthusiastic. I believe I said something to the affect that, I only thought a group swimming activity was a good thing. At the time I thought that perhaps you were only thinking of yourself, not thinking of the rest of the year. I have revised that assessment; the group activity was good for everyone and was indeed a great idea."
"Without a doubt," Aaron added. "Other than the initial surge of activity surrounding the keyboard for Rachael, this is the only thing that everyone has agreed on."
"That is true, in classes and in most activities they are very much in competition with each other. It is good to see them relax and spend time together, without competing to see who is the best," Jenny agreed.
"I suppose that suggesting a friendly game of volleyball wouldn't be a good thing," Mary Beth giggled.
"Not really," Aaron chuckled.
"On the other hand, if we played lots of volleyball and everyone got real good, we could challenge years B or C to a match," I thought aloud.
"Matilda, are you suggesting a school volleyball tournament?" Aaron asked.
"Not really the whole school, just years A, B, and C. I mean, can you just picture a game between us and year H? It might be fun for the rest of the school to watch, but I certainly wouldn't want to be on the team." I shook as my imagination ran away with me.
"That is a scary, yet amusing thought," Jenny giggled. "However, I think we should leave well enough alone and leave the organization of athletic competitions to Mr. Swenson and Miss Anderson."
"Who's Mr. Swenson? We haven't met him," Mary Beth asked.
"He's the other Phys Ed teacher," Aaron offered. "Once we get back from Toronto and we start regular classes again, you'll meet him. Then you'll wish you hadn't."
"Why? I mean, I can't imagine Mr. Peterson or Ellen allowing a mean teacher anywhere near this school," I asked.
"Oh, he is not mean," Jenny continued, "but he takes his job very seriously."
Aaron added, "Yeah, and according to him, his job is to make sure that none of us get fat. So, he makes sure everyone has just the right fitness program. For fun Mr. Swenson and Miss Anderson arrange what they like to call friendly sporting competitions."
"The only problem is keeping them friendly," Jenny giggled while explaining. "There are several students in each year that are very competitive, when it comes to sports."
"Okay. I guess that means no mention of any sporting competition," I assured them. "We'll keep the weekly swimming as a time for the year to relax and bond with each other."
Choir practice went well; after almost two weeks I'd finally learned to pronounce most of the French words, just don't ask me what they all meant. I’d learned some in our French class and figured out a few others, but I still couldn't tell you all of them.
Saturday, after swimming and breakfast, Mary Beth and I joined Aaron and the construction crew in the workshop. The second-generation keyboard was ready for testing. We'd learned how to interface two wireless keyboards into the same computer, which would eliminate the wires running to the ceiling and back. We tested the system for about an hour, trying all the key combinations and silly rhymes we could think of. There was a slight problem; you could only use one keyboard at a time. Which meant the goofy three-finger salute that Microsoft uses to login, just wouldn't work. We got around that by changing from the 'control-alt-delete' login sequence, to the pick your name and enter your password method. Of course, very few people around here ever logout. After all, nobody shares computers, so it really wasn't that big of a problem.
After lunch, we took the new keyboards over to Rachael. We transferred the wireless mouse that we'd converted into a mini trackball to the new right hand keyboard.
Once everything was up and running, Rachael filled us in on a bit of news, "Thanks everyone, I know you've been working hard so I won't be bored out of my skull. I do appreciate everyone’s effort, and I don't want to sound ungrateful ..."
"Okay Sis, enough with beating up on the foliage, what's your beef?"
"Well, I don't want anyone to think that I don't appreciate ..."
"RACHAEL!"
"Oh all right, the upper keys for each finger are really hard to reach." She demonstrated the problem by typing a line of numbers and reaching for the function keys. Each extreme stretch of her finger was accompanied with a groan.
"That sounds like a design problem to me," Aaron quickly pointed out. "Who was the design engineer on this project anyway?"
All eyes turned towards me, along with general giggling throughout the room.
"Sounds like the same guy that designed the school desks back home, one size fits all," Mary Beth started.
I stood next to Rachael's bed as each of my friends took their shot at engineers and their mistakes. Being that I'm not an engineer, I figured that none of the comments were directed at me personally. As the heckling continued I calmly examined the keyboards, the angle they were mounted, the distance between Rachael's fingertips and the keys. My only idea was to change the angle of the keyboards.
After a few minutes the heckling slowed down, then stopped. "What, that's all you've got?" I laughingly asked. "That was only fifty-seven. I was sure that you guys would be able to come up with around a hundred, perhaps more."
"You counted them?" Barb asked, somewhat amazed.
I smiled as I nodded, "Everyone needs a hobby."
"Do you remember all of them?" Tina asked.
"No, I didn't plan on answering them, so I didn't concentrate on remembering any of them. I just counted for fun."
"So what are you going to do about the keyboards?" Rachael wanted to know.
"Well, I guess the first thing to do would be to fire the engineers and hire some new ones," I stated humorously.
"Are you going to fire yourself?" Jenny teased.
"No ... I'm the project manager, not the engineer," I replied.
"Are you saying that I'm the engineer?" Aaron quickly asked.
"Of course not; you're the technical support staff."
"So you're saying that WE were the engineers?" George and Tina asked together.
"No, you're the manufacturing division," I calmly replied.
"So who's the engineer?" Mary Beth asked.
"Oh that's simple, we didn't have one. Which is good, because that means I don't have to fire anyone," I concluded, causing more laughter.
"So what are you going to do about the keyboards?" Rachael again asked, this time a little exasperated.
"I haven't a clue. I mean the system works, it’s just not comfortable to use. I thought we’d discuss it with the rest of the year. Hopefully one of them will come up with an idea."
"So what was all that about firing the engineer?" Jenny asked.
"Oh that? I was just having some fun," I freely admitted.
We chatted until it was time for choir practice. After dinner we discussed Rachael's keyboard problem with the rest of the year. Several of the more artistic members of the group had some ideas and were eager to get involved.
Sunday gave me more time to climb up and down Bart's family tree. The problem I kept running into was that the higher I climbed, the shorter the tree became. Every lead I followed was a dead end. Every branch I pulled on broke off. It was starting to look like some un-natural catastrophe had systematically eliminated every living relative on both sides of Bart's family. I knew that wasn't possible, so there must be another answer. I simply had no idea what it could be, at least not at that time.
Monday was simply flying by, that is until I walked into the computer classroom. The moment I set foot through the door RJ called out to me. To me it seemed like he was yelling, even though he wasn’t. “Matilda! What on earth have you been doing?”
I stopped dead in my tracks. I was tempted to run back the way I’d come. Two months earlier, if someone, anyone, had called out to me the way RJ had done, run away is exactly what I’d have done.
I wasn’t sure what RJ was talking about. All I could do was stammer, “I, I, umm, I don’t, umm, what, I'm not sure what you mean.”
RJ’s tone had softened, but to me he was still yelling. “Can you tell me why the school’s only public IP address has been bombarded with requests for information from dozens of IT administrators and consultants? I’ve spent all morning setting up an isolated, sacrificial, system. Intentionally leaving an ‘accidental’ opening in its security, just so outside hackers could get through. All so I could explain that the attacks didn’t come from within our system. Of course I’ve had to beef up the security around every server and computer system on campus, not to mention all the systems that we’re linked to.”
I collapsed in tears, again. I’m pretty sure I blacked out because the next thing I remembered was sitting at RJ’s desk with him next to me. He was mopping up my tears; there were several wet and crumpled tissues on his desk.
When I was able to talk, without blubbering, I told him how sorry I was for causing him all that trouble. I told him about all the different systems I'd been in over the last few days.
"Well now ... you've been busy as a beaver. The funny thing is, you look more like a Munchkin than a beaver. So tell me, why have you been invading all those systems?"
"I'm trying to stop a bully from picking on the other kids at my old school," I replied softly.
"Matilda, what do you mean, trying to stop a bully?"
"You know that Mary Beth has some cracked ribs. That's why Dr. Harris has her in the wheelchair."
RJ nodded.
"And of course, you know about my sister Rachael being at the school’s hospital. Do you know why both her arms and legs are in casts?"
"Not really, Mr. Peterson sent word to the staff about her being there and her condition. He didn't tell anyone what had happened to her. I know there's a lot of speculation going around, but that's all."
"Rachael was attacked by a boy from our old school, Bartholomew Roberts. He’s a very large, very mean boy that takes great pleasure in hurting smaller kids. Mary Beth was beaten up by the same boy. If you don't mind, I'd rather not go into everything that Black Bart has done to me over the years. Some of what he did I may never remember, my memory was chemically erased."
"What exactly did this Bartholomew do to Rachael?"
"According to Rachael, he used a tree branch on her, bigger around than a baseball bat. He was mad because he couldn't find me and he took his anger out on her. She knew better than to tease him, but at the time she wasn't thinking clearly. Bart came after her while she was walking home from school. The bones in her arms have simple fractures, but her legs ... he hit them so hard the bones were splintered. She's going to be lucky if she can walk again,” I couldn’t stop my eyes from tearing up again. I didn’t break down as I’d done before, but I definitely needed more tissues.
"What have the police done about this Bart fellow?" RJ asked a few moments later
"Police?" I asked mockingly. "The police didn’t do anything. I don't know why, at least not yet, but for some reason the police and the District Attorneys office won't, or can't, do anything about Bart or his family. There are so many complaints against Bart's family on file at the DA's office you could wallpaper this room with them, but nothing has ever been done."
"So what are you trying to do? That is, what are you trying to accomplish by hacking into all those different systems?"
"Well, at first I was trying to get what Mary Beth and I know about Bart to someone at the District Attorney's office. We figured that the legal system would take care of him. That was the first system I worked my way into."
"And you left your fingerprints all over it."
"My what?"
"You left your calling card in the DA's network. They're furious that their systems were hacked into. Their system administrator has been sending inquiries to every IP address that left its signature over the last month."
"What do you mean by IP signature?"
"Matilda, didn't that chat room teacher of yours teach you how the Internet works? What IP packets are? And more importantly, how to work your way around the internet anonymously?"
"Umm ... no. She told me there was a lot more I needed to learn, but when the school found out I was outside their system I was banned from the school's computers."
"I see, I guess that is where we need to start your education. Matilda, I need you to promise me that you won't go outside the schools system until you can do it without telling the whole world about our school. Do you promise?"
"But how long will that take?"
"That depends on how fast you learn. From what I've seen you pick things up pretty fast. My guess is you'll understand most of what you’ll need to know in a few days."
"Okay, I promise," I sighed. "No more going outside until I'm un-name-more-us."
Laughing, RJ corrected, "That's 'anonymous.' Basically it means you can do what you've been doing, but without anyone knowing that you've been there. Speaking about what you’ve been doing; you know that officially I can’t condone or approve of what you’ve been doing. Unofficially I have to ask, with your apparent lack of faith in the legal system, what are your current plans?"
“Plan 'B' was to find someone else who could convince them that what they're doing is wrong. You know, kind of like there’s always a bigger fish, kind of thing"
"Was?"
"Yeah … was.” I replied, sounding like I was out of options. “I've found the names of Bart's grandparents, aunts, uncles, and lots of cousins, but every name is marked deceased."
"That's not possible."
"That's what I thought. It's as if Bart and his dad killed off everyone that was related to them."
"Well, let's teach you how the internet works. After that we’ll see if we can come up with a plan 'C'."
I was shocked, almost speechless, "You're … you're going to help me?"
"Don’t be ridiculous; of course I’m not going to help you break the rules. I'm your teacher, a trusted member of the school staff, and I'm ... well, never mind. Officially I must tell you that hacking into computer systems, outside of a classroom exercise, is a violation of several school rules. If I were to discover such an activity, I would have to report it to Mr. Peterson." RJ looked back and forth, as if he were making sure we were alone, before whispering, "Unofficially, someone that takes pleasure in hurting others needs a lesson in humility. Not to mention having their free agency revoked, by being confined somewhere where they cannot hurt anyone."
We spent the rest of that class time going over basic Internet communication and addressing structure.
'RJ said several things that started me thinking; along with something he started to say, but didn't finish. He couldn’t help me and would report any unusual activity IF he discovered it. Then, he started teaching me how to avoid being detected. It's almost like he's giving me permission to do what I need to, to stop Bart. I wonder if there's a negative side to this? There's still more going on here than meets the eye. I wonder if I could get away with another visit to Joshua. RJ did make me promise to stay on campus. I suppose that really means within the school's system. I don't know where Joshua is physically, but it is within the school's system. The downside is, the more I learn from Joshua, the more I have to hide from Mary Beth.'
Mrs. T and Marshal had a surprise for everyone. As we arrived for afternoon choir practice we were instructed to sit in the audience seats.
"What's going on?" several of the other year A students asked me.
"I have no idea," I confessed.
"You mean to tell us, you didn't learn something about what's going on from a computer somewhere?" George teased.
"Sorry, George, not this time," I giggled.
We didn't have to wait long. Once everyone was seated Mrs. T came out to center stage. "Good afternoon everyone, I'd like you to listen to two groups, singing the same song. After you've heard both, I'd like to hear your comments."
Mrs. T left the stage as some music started. As I looked around, I could see that everyone recognized what we were listening to. It was one of the songs we've been preparing for the concert in Quebec. The second piece of music was the same song, but it was very different. After the second number, Mrs. T came back to center stage.
"Well, what do you think?" she asked.
"The first number was us." Someone called out.
"Yeah, that's us singing D'oá¹ viens-tu, bergá¨re." Another student added.
"Who was the other group?" Someone in the orchestra asked.
"They sounded great."
"What makes you think the second group sounded better?" Mrs. T asked. Responses came from many directions.
"The basses were richer and fuller."
"And the sopranos were more polished."
"Yes, they had no trouble with the high 'C' sharp.”
“That’s true, they hit it clear and strong every time."
The critiquing and praise went on for a few minutes before I couldn't sit still any longer. I stood up, so Mrs. T would see me, and raised my hand. "Quiet please ... Quiet. Yes Matilda, you wanted to say something?"
Gee, I hate being the center of attention, especially when I know that what I'm going to say will sound crazy. "The first number was without a doubt, our choir. The second number was ... " I paused and shook my head, dreading what was to come. "Also our choir."
As for what happened next; my assumption was correct. Mrs. T looked at me real funny-like; as the heckling and 'you're crazy' started. I don't think I've ever had so many people yelling at me, at least not all at the same time. But, I knew I was right, so I stood my ground. Mary Beth kept pulling on my arm, trying to get me to sit down.
After about two minutes, or was it two hours, Mrs. T brought order back to the room. "Matilda, didn't that sound like two different choirs?" I nodded slowly in response. "Then would you like to tell me why you think both numbers were recordings of our choir?"
"Well, I don't know that much about music or the different parts, you know, basses and sopranos and the like. What I know best are computers, and I know timing. The timing of both numbers where exactly the same. Two choirs can sing the same song, but the timing will be different. I'm just guessing, but I think the second number was changed, or enhanced somehow." I was about to sit down when I decided to add the last piece that enabled me to quickly solve the little puzzle. "One last thing, in both numbers, I clearly heard ..."
"Yes Matilda, you clearly heard what?" Mrs. T asked.
I looked at Mary Beth for just a moment, before turning back to answer Mrs. T's question. With a smile I replied, "I clearly heard a voice I would recognize anywhere."
I'd piqued Mrs. T's curiosity, "And just whose voice is that, dear?"
"It was Mary Beth’s voice!"
I sat down, and again looked at my dear partner. She appeared to be in shock, almost horrified, that I had included her in my wild speculation; at least until she looked into my tearful eyes. In that instant she knew that I was right, and she threw her arms around me. It was several moments before my ears registered the background chatter of the rest of the school. I was drying my eyes as I slowly turned to look back at Mrs. T. She was waving her arms to quiet everyone.
Once the hall was mostly quiet Mrs. T began, "That's some speculation, Matilda. You're basing a lot on one person’s voice, don't you think?" I was about to defend myself, when she continued. "I'm not exactly sure how you came to the conclusion you did, but I want to tell you what I think of your speculation ... You're absolutely, correct."
The hall fell silent, with one or two exceptions. First, I heard Beca yelling, "Way to go Munchkin!' Second, the Black Sheep were cheering so loud I had a hard time hearing anything else.
During the ruckus from my classmates, Marshal joined Mrs. T on stage and they quieted down. "Marshal here is responsible for the enhancement of the audio track. I’ll let him tell you about the future plans." Mrs. T left the stage to Marshal.
"Until now this kind of enhancement could only be done after a recording has been made or on a sound stage, with only a few people at a time. However, thanks to twenty-first century technology, we will be able to produce the quality sound that you were all praising a few minutes ago at every concert." Marshal held up what appeared to be a 'Bluetooth' headset. "I don't know how many of you think you recognize this. For those of you who think you do, forget what you know. These headsets were custom made just for us. They look like a Bluetooth, but that's where the similarity ends. These are wireless microphones; they have a different frequency and more power than a Bluetooth. Each one has its own digital signature, which allows me to adjust the audio frequencies of each mike input before sending it to the amplifier. Everyone will wear one of these; that way I can adjust the sound as needed. We won’t use these for every concert or performance, only when we want to sound very different than we normally do."
Over the next half hour mikes were issued to us; even the orchestra members were issued mikes. The rest of our afternoon choir practice, as well as the evening practice, we spent tuning and adjusting the frequency response of each mike and its assigned user. It was really strange to hear myself singing as I normally do, but having a different voice coming out of the speakers. What came out of the speakers actually sounded good.
Tuesday morning, along with his other announcements, Mr. Peterson announced that Mary Beth and I had worked very hard and were ready to change our language status. As of that morning we would be joining the rest of the school using all French. For the next five weeks everything we read, heard, and spoke, would be in French. As Mr. Peterson made the announcement, I realized I had a problem.
‘What about Rachael? She doesn't speak French.’
I quickly sent a note to Mr. Peterson, explaining my concerns about not being allowed to speak English. His reply was a relief, a surprise, and made me nervous all at the same time.
Matilda,
Permission to use English
when visiting your
Sister is granted, but
only for three weeks.
Pass on what you have
learned.
By the way, have you had
much time to practice
acting like a Munchkin?
Mr. Peterson.
'Now what does he mean by that? Only for three weeks? Pass on what I’ve learned? ... Oh I get it, I’m supposed to teach Rachael, French. But that last part; is he referring to being a scared little Munchkin, like I was at the Halloween Ball? Why would he want me to practice being ... Wait, he did say something once about never knowing when I might need those, umm, skills. But why now? Why would he remind me of it now, and in this way? I still don't know everything that's going on around here, but I feel like I'm in a long dark tunnel and a train is coming at me at ninety miles an hour. I just wish I had a really strong flashlight.'
The hardest part about switching to all French was the text on my PDA. Speaking French was one thing, reading it was tougher. With my promise to RJ, I didn’t venture outside the confines of the school’s network. Instead I spent more time going through the internal servers, learning more about the operation of the school and what I could find out about her history, along with a hundred other secrets.
I was still avoiding Joshua, but if I didn't know better, I'd have sworn that Joshua was trying to contact me. Strange things kept showing up on my PDA screen. Tid-bits of information, pieces of files I'd seen the one time I'd invaded his domain. Even though I knew that Joshua was just a computer someplace, it almost seemed like he wanted someone to play with. Once, about a week after Mary Beth and I had changed to all French; a tick-tack-toe game appeared on my screen during my computer security class. RJ said to ignore it, assuming it was just another student playing games with me.
Wednesday morning, the Christmas catalogs were left in a small box outside the lounge while everyone was in morning classes. The Black Sheep, having an extra free hour, had each selected their ornaments. Mary Beth and I decided to wait until after dinner to peruse the catalogs.
Afternoon choir practice was the first full practice with the new mikes and sound equipment. Oh … my … goodness! What a difference they made. I think Marshal enjoyed showing off though. While we were singing the carols in French, he made us sound like a very young children’s choir, with a few adults thrown in. When we sang in English, he made us sound like the 360 voice, Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I’d always thought that one day Mary Beth should sing with that illustrious choir. I knew that I'd never have that opportunity; my voice just is't of that caliber. But with Marshal's help and a little imagination, I could close my eyes and almost picture myself on tour with them.
'After all, a girl can dream, can't she?'
"Have you thought about what ornament you want?" Mary Beth asked, as we were going back to the lounge, after dinner.
“Not really, I have been kind of preoccupied elsewhere,” I giggled.
“Well, pick up the pace a little. We’ve got six catalogs to go through, and according to Misa, a couple of them are pretty thick.”
“What’s your rush? I mean, after all, we still have six weeks until Christmas.”
“Oh, I know. It’s just the way the others were talking about them during lunch and dinner kind of got me excited to get started.”
“Okay my eager friend, keep your legs and ears covered, and I’ll see what I can do about getting some more speed out of this, one girl power carriage of yours,” I giggled, as a leaned forward and pushed off and then started to run.
“Hey, take it easy.”
“First you want,” huff, huff, “to go faster.” Huff, puff, “Now you want,” puff, puff, “to slow down.” Puff, huff, “Would you please,” huff, huff, “make up your mind.”
“Slow down! I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“Okay," puff, puff, "I guess that's," huff, huff, "a good idea,” huff, puff, “because were here,” I wheezed. "Hit the brakes."
Mary Beth applied the brakes, slowing us to a stop just outside our dorm. “Matilda, what am I going to do with you?”
“I guess that asking for a hug wouldn’t mean anything,” I whispered in her ear, as we went through the outside doors. “Being that you’re hugging me every night as we fall asleep, I guess I’ll just have to settle for a thank you.”
Before turning the knob on the lounge door, Mary Beth turned to look at me. With a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes, she put one hand on mine, “Thank you Munchkin, for caring about my feelings so much.”
We both smiled at each other for a moment before Mary Beth turned and opened the door.
"You two are early," George commented.
"Yeah, it usually takes you longer to get here," Walter added.
"Mary Beth was in a hurry," I blurted, still trying to catch my breath.
"But you didn't have to run like you did," Mary Beth argued. Changing her tone to one of appreciation, “Now, go get yourself a drink, then come sit down and rest, you silly girl."
I returned from the drinking fountain in the hall to find Mary Beth devouring her second catalog.
"I thought we were going to look through them together," I stated as I sat next to her.
"We are! I'm just skimming through to get a feel for what's here." She closed the catalog she had and gave the whole stack to me. "You pick one."
I sat as close to Mary Beth as I felt I could get away with, without raising any suspicion. I'd noticed that only one pair of our classmates ever sat close enough to each other, to give the impression that their relationship was something more than an educational pairing. Picking a catalog at random, I held it so we could both get a good view of both pages. We scanned each page carefully, looking for the one ornament that would hold a special meaning for each of us. Every ornament was lovely, some were covered in glitter, some were golden or had gold trim, some were metal, most of them were glass or plastic.
As we were looking through the catalogs, trying to find just the right ornament, I was reminded of a family tradition that I always enjoyed. Each year, sometime before Christmas, we would go looking at the Christmas lights and displays downtown and on Temple Square. Afterwards, when our bones were sufficiently chilled, we would stop at a casual restaurant for hot chocolate while Mom read us a special story. I don't remember a single time that Mom, Rachael and I didn't cry, as the author of the story was describing the heartbroken sobbing of 'The Littlest Angel'.
I'd stopped turning pages while I was traveling down memory lane and needed to wipe away a couple of tears, when Mary Beth gently shook me and asked. "Hey there, what's the matter?"
I blinked, as I turned to see a look of concern in her eyes.
Smiling, I replied, "Oh, nothing, I was just remembering an old family tradition. This school has some fun traditions for Christmas, but, maybe we can suggest some new traditions ... for our new family."
Mary Beth put an arm across my shoulders and pulled me close for a moment. She let me go, feeling eighteen pairs of eyes staring at us and we continued looking through the catalogs.
Mary Beth found several ornaments she really liked, but was having a hard time deciding between them. On the other hand, after going through the six catalogs, hadn't found anything that really called out to me. I mean, nothing jumped out and screamed, 'I belong to Matilda,' or 'Munchkin' or even 'Best Friends'.
We'd finished with the last catalog, I suppose I was looking a little sad, when Jenny and Aaron came over to see what we'd decided. Jenny, being as perceptive as she is, asked, "Matilda, what's the matter?"
"Nothing's really wrong; I just didn't find anything that would be 'special to me' as Mr. Peterson put it."
"Really? Out of all the ornaments, there was nothing you'd like?" Aaron seemed surprised.
"I didn't say I wouldn't like some of them, I said that there wasn't anything that I felt was special. At least not special to me," I corrected.
"That is all right Matilda; I will let Mr. Peterson know that we would like some other catalogs to look through. We have not turned in any of the requests yet. Who knows, perhaps some of the others were just settling for what was here, not really finding their perfect ornament."
I brightened up at that, "I'd forgotten we had that option. Thanks Jenny that will be great."
"No problem, that is what we are here for." Jenny nodded towards Aaron. "After all, I have never seen a sad Munchkin, and I do not want our Munchkin to be the first." That had the four of us giggling.
After making the decision to not make a decision, we headed for evening choir practice. While Mrs. T was working with some individual parts, I had a little spare time on my hands. Pulling out my PDA, I started browsing the schools system, once again. I was distracted from my current quest by Mrs. T wanting the whole choir singing. I'd have more time tomorrow to finish putting the links together.
Wednesday morning, RJ had several tests for me, designed to see if I remembered everything he'd taught me over the last couple of days. I had to go into a specified system, find and print out a file he'd planted earlier, all while he was monitoring the systems ports.
On the first system I wasn't as careful as I should have been; he caught and blocked me. Of course, we went over what I'd done wrong. My second attempt on that system was successful. The second test was a bit more complicated, but by using just the techniques RJ taught me I was able to get in and print off the file without being detected. RJ warned me that the third system had some of the best security on it he’d ever seen, and that I shouldn't feel bad if I couldn't get in.
Naturally, I couldn't refuse a challenge like that. It was time to mix what RJ had taught me, with the natural skills of the munchkin. After I was in and found the test file I was wondering if it would be okay to show off a bit. Deciding it was time to ‘blast out of space-dock at one quarter impulse,’ as it were; I routed the printout to RJ's printer instead of the one shared by the students. It took a little longer to get into RJ's desktop, but the way he jumped and the expression on his face when the file printed, was worth the extra time.
RJ looked at the printout, then at me, and my smile, and started chuckling. "All right miss smarty pants, you snuck past me this time, just wait until tomorrow."
"Skirts," I corrected.
"What?"
"Miss Smarty skirts, I don't wear pants if I don't have to," I giggled.
"I stand corrected," he replied, with a laugh.
"Sit corrected," I teased.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're not standing; therefore you cannot 'Stand Corrected'. Being that you're in a seated position, I think it would be 'Sit Corrected'."
Laughing, he waved his hand at the door. "Get out of here Munchkin. Go … bother someone else for a while.”
I grabbed my coat, PDA and headed for the door. Stopping just short of the door, I turned and looked back at RJ; he was already involved in some other issue and not paying attention to me.
I quietly went to his desk, "RJ, umm … about my little research project?"
He looked up with a scowl on his face. Once again looking around to verify we were alone, he quietly replied, "No government systems! We still have a little work to do there."
I smiled and nodded; no other reply was needed.
I happened to be a few minutes early for lunch. So after I’d settled down, I thought I'd finish up the little project I’d begun the night before. Chasing down two computers and one server to link them together turned out to be almost no challenge at all. I completed the links and set everything to run when I entered a command on my PDA. That consumed what little spare time I had. The result of my endeavor should impress everyone.
Afternoon choir practice started out fairly routinely; Mrs. T worked with the double quartet that would be singing ‘Les Anges dans nos campagnes.’ Then she had the whole choir singing a couple of warm up carols. Just before we started our full run through the music for the concert in Quebec, I entered a start command into my PDA. We sounded really good, thanks to the new sound equipment. Everything was going just the way Mrs. T wanted, you could tell by the smile on her face.
We had finished the first two numbers and were well into the third, when I noticed the doors at the back of the hall open and the silhouette’s of several people entered the auditorium. A few minutes later, several more entered. I couldn't make out who they were; there weren't any lights on at the back of the hall. After we finished the third number, someone applauded. Startled, Mrs. T turned to see where it was coming from. The person clapping walked slowly down the center aisle. When they got close enough to be illuminated by the stage lights, everyone recognized him.
Mrs. T greeted him, "Good afternoon, Mr. Peterson. This is an unexpected pleasure."
"I'd like to offer my congratulations; with the new sound equipment this choir sounds incredible, truly an indescribable advancement."
"Thank you Mr. Peterson." Mrs. T graciously accepted the compliment. "I know that Marshal has been working hard to get everything working properly. He assures me that the Quebec Premier will be astounded by the quality of our choir."
"I'm sure he will be, but not as astounded as I was when I could hear you in my office!" Mr. Peterson flatly stated.
"In your office? I didn't think we were that loud."
‘Oh, oh … I guess this wasn’t such a great idea after all. I guess I better start working on my sincere 'I’m sorry' look. I may have just earned a one way ticket into one of those high back wooden chairs in Mr. Peterson’s office.’
I withdrew my PDA and shut down the links between the systems.
"I assure you, if it weren't for a little electronic assistance I would still be in my office, listening to ‘Edvard Grieg’ while working on the travel arrangements for the upcoming trip.” Mr. Peterson sounded a little cross.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mrs. T apologized.
‘I may as well get this over with, no sense putting it off.’
“It seems that someone routed your rehearsal through the school’s PA system. I have my suspicion as to who it might have been, but I’d like to see if anyone is willing to take responsibility …”
Just then I stepped out away from the rest of the choir. While looking at my feet, almost amazed that they were moving, I slowly made my way to center stage.
“Matilda?” several students gasped.
“Matilda!” Mr. Peterson echoed, but not with the same surprised tone.
“I, I didn’t mean …” I started.
“I’ll see you in my office after choir practice,” Mr. Peterson commanded. Without waiting for a reply he turned and walked back up the aisle.
Mrs. T looked like she didn't know what to do, or say. There was a lot of quiet chatter going on amongst the students.
Finally Mrs. T asked, "Matilda, what were you thinking?"
"Well ... We sounded so good yesterday, I thought that everyone would enjoy listening to some Christmas music," I replied softly.
Mrs. T shook her head, "Do you feel up to finishing the rehearsal or would you rather go see Mr. Peterson now?"
"I think I'd like to finish up with the choir," I replied shyly.
"Have you turned off whatever you did?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Very well, if you'll get back into your place, we'll continue."
I tried to move quickly, but my heart wasn't in it, and when I wanted my feet to move they objected. Besides, almost everyone I passed was quietly asking questions. Even though I wasn't answering them the questions kept coming. Heck I wasn't even paying attention.
Thinking that there was a good chance of being banned from the system for a while, I again off-loaded all of my research and changed the encryption code. After practice, I got my coat and started for Mr. Peterson's office.
"Hey, Matilda, where are you going?" Mary Beth called out.
I turned around to find her in her wheelchair, surrounded by the Black Sheep.
I shrugged my shoulders and sighed, as I replied, "To see Mr. Peterson. Time to face the music."
"Munchkin, you've got to be one of the funniest people I know," Hope giggled.
I looked at her as if she were the crazy one.
"Hope, what are you talking about?" Tony asked.
"Well, she's in trouble for sending the Christmas music over the PA system, and she’s making a joke about going to face the music," Hope explained.
A moment later, after everyone had a chance to think about it, everyone started giggling; even me.
After a little giggling, I asked, "So what are all of you doing?"
"We're going with you," Howard announced.
"Going with me? What for?"
By now, Mary Beth was in front of me, holding my hands. Several of the others had circled around me and had their hands on my shoulders. "For moral support," Misa answered softly.
"You are one of us," Jenny explained, with a broad smile.
"And after all, you are up holding the high standards of the Black Sheep," George added.
'Why is it that we have no control over our tear ducts? '
After being embarrassed for several moments by having everyone watch me cry, Aaron brought us back to the matter at hand. "Come on, everybody, Mr. Peterson is waiting."
As we made our way towards my impending doom, Tina asked, "You really sent the choir rehearsal over the PA speakers?"
"To the whole school?" Vikk added.
I looked from one to the other, "You don't think I'd take the blame for something I didn't do, do you?"
"Between you and me, how did you do it?" Aaron asked.
"You mean between you, me, and the Black Sheep?"
Chuckling he admitted, "Yeah, I guess so."
"Well, Marshal's software is on a computer, isn't it? I discovered that the PA system is controlled through a computer. I just routed a digital audio feed from Marshal's computer through one of the network servers and into the PA's computer; it's so simple a child could do it."
Hope, along with several others, was giggling again, "Munchkin, you've got to stop with these jokes."
"What did I say now?"
"So simple a child could do it!" Tina echoed.
"And?" I asked.
"Matilda, how old are you?" Barb asked.
"I'm ten ..."
"Right, ten-years-old. Most people would consider all of us just children," Wally added.
"But that's what Dr. McCoy said after he learned how to replace Spock's brain."
"Munchkin, this isn't Star Trek," Morgan teased.
"I know that, but they have some great lines."
"Speaking of great lines, I hope you've got a few for Mr. Peterson," George said as we stopped in front of Mr. Peterson's office door.
I don't know how long I stood looking at the door. Slowly, and with a lot of effort, I reached out with a shaking hand and timidly knocked on the door. I nervously waited for admittance.
I began to think that Mr. Peterson had gone out for some reason and that I would get a temporary reprieve. I was turning to look at Jenny, when suddenly the door opened.
“Ah Matilda, won’t you come in?”
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 12
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Not that!
You can’t do that to me!
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 12
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."
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 13
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
'stone knives and bear skins.'
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 13
My first computer-less day in three weeks and I easily confirmed what I had suspected the evening before. I’m surrounded by a host of friends, all of whom are willing to watch out for me, make sure I'm always on time, and above all ... tell me where to go.
Aaron stopped by bright and early, or so he thought, to make sure I was awake. Fortunately, Mary Beth and I had been up for about half an hour. It might have been a little awkward explaining why we sleep together.
Arriving in the lounge a couple of minutes later than normal, brought forth just a bit more heckling than was customary; along with several promises to wake me earlier the next day. Mary Beth and I quietly made plans to get up even earlier than we normally do; for the rest of the week. We sincerely wanted to avoid the need to come up with an explanation for what some might consider to be an embarrassing situation.
Jenny went over the day’s announcements; she also informed us that our request to make our Saturday morning swimming a regularly scheduled event had been approved. I may have to request some ear plugs for use at future year A meetings. Perhaps just covering the walls with some of that gray egg-carton foam rubber would do the trick. At least that way the sound wouldn't echo off the walls.
The first surprise of the day greeted us as Mary Beth and I entered our French class. Rusty's computer fed LCD projector had been replaced with a whiteboard and markers. On our table were two short stacks of paper.
"Rusty, what's with the whiteboard and all the paper?" Mary Beth asked.
"Up until now everything we've done has been on computer, so you would have access the day’s lesson material, enabling you to do your individual work. Since Matilda can’t use computers for a while we've had to revert to something a little less sophisticated, paper and pencil."
"Why two stacks of paper? I still have my PDA," Mary Beth questioned.
"Yes, but you are study partners, aren't you? You do study together, don't you? It will be easier on both of you if you're treated the same, and have the same study material. Don't you agree?" Rusty explained by asking a series of questions.
Mary Beth, while moving from her wheelchair to a regular chair, looked down at me and giggled, as I was already seated. "You're right; Matilda does help me with my home work. She's been helping me ever since we started school together. If it wasn't for her kindness, I don't think I would have made it out of Kindergarten. At least this way she won't have to break her promise to Mr. Peterson."
I smiled at my partner to show her my thanks.
The class time seemed to fly by. I'm not sure, but I think I took more notes with the paper and pencil than I ever did using my PDA.
'I wonder if there's a way of taking hand written notes and linking them to the computer generated study material. When I'm allowed on computers again, I'll have to check it out. I'm sure that RJ will help me find a way of doing it. I'll check with him later, after I have my privileges restored.'
"Hello RJ," I cheerfully called out, as I entered the computer classroom.
"Good morning, my evil Munchkin," he chuckled.
"Evil? Oh, come now, I wasn't all that bad," I complained.
"From what I've been told, what you did was bad enough to earn yourself a temporary computer suspension."
"Yeah, well ... I guess, but that all depends on your point of view, not to mention your intent."
"Regardless of your intent, Mr. Peterson doesn't like having his afternoon symphony interrupted. Come on, let’s get some work done."
"You know, I never thought of that. I wonder if that's possible. Shoot, I was so eager to get it done I didn't even think about other possibilities," I was mumbling to myself.
"Munchkin, I can see those gears of yours turning at an alarming rate. What are you thinking about?"
"You said Mr. Peterson doesn't like to have his afternoon symphony interrupted. I didn't know that he listened to symphonies in the afternoon, but that's not the point. I was just wondering if the PA system was programmable. I mean, can you pick and choose which speakers to use at any given time? I didn't think about that before; I just sent the music to the whole system."
"Hold it right there, you're suspended from all computers, remember?"
"Yes, but only for a week," I reminded him with a mischievous grin. "I'm sure that someone around here would like to hear our choir in the afternoon, something to help brighten their day."
"MATILDA! Are you trying to see how much trouble you can get into?"
"Trouble? Me? Of course not! I didn't send the music over the PA to get into trouble. I did it so the people who never get to hear the choir, could."
"Hold it ... would you say that again."
"I said, I sent the music over the PA so that all the other people who work here, the ones we never see, and who never get to see or hear the choir sing, could."
"I'm sorry, I misunderstood. I thought you were showing off or something. I guess that's why Mr. Peterson was lenient with you."
"Lenient? A weeks computer suspension is lenient? What would he have done if he weren't being lenient?"
"Actually, yes, he was lenient. I know how upset he was yesterday, before he talked with you. The last time he was that upset with a student, they spent a week peeling potatoes."
"Peeling potatoes? That doesn't sound so bad."
"Until you consider how many potatoes are consumed here each day."
Nervously I asked, "Umm, just how many potatoes are we talking about?"
"Now, you understand I'm not speaking from personal experience. However, I've heard that when the kitchen staff has someone else to do the peeling, they tend to use a few more potatoes than normal. According to the grape vine some of their, umm, volunteer help have had to peel between one-hundred-fifty and two-hundred pounds of potatoes, each day."
"Two hundred pounds?" I gasped. "It would take me all day to peel that many."
"You do realize that there is a sure fire way to avoid having that … shall we say, privilege. You do understand what I'm saying, don't you?" I looked at RJ with golf ball eyes, slowly nodding. He confirmed what I was thinking, "Don't get into any more trouble ... and don't upset Mr. Peterson." I quickly changed the direction my head was moving, agreeing with RJ that I wouldn't want to upset Mr. Peterson.
When RJ and I were finished for the day, I had another stack of paper, covered with notes.
The rest of the day went by rather quickly, almost too quickly. Before I knew it, choir practice was over and it was once again time to visit with Mr. Peterson. Mary Beth insisted on going with me. The door to Mr. Peterson's office was open when we arrived. Not wanting to intrude, and definitely not wanting to upset him, I knocked on the doorframe.
"Matilda, right on time, and I see that Mary Beth came with you. Please come in."
"Both of us?" Mary Beth nervously inquired.
"Mary Beth, you may wait in the hall or you may accompany Matilda. Either way I'm certain you will know what we discuss."
I looked at Mary Beth, as she looked at me. I could tell that making this simple decision wasn't easy.
"Well?" I questioned.
"Best friends stand by one another. I’ll go with you." She seemed a little reluctant as she announced her decision.
I smiled as I pushed her wheelchair through, and closed the door. Outwardly I was happy that Mary Beth had decided to go in with me, inside I was heartbroken.
'Best friends - I suppose that answers the question I couldn't ask last night. Just … best friends, I guess I'll have to live with that, at least for now. I wonder if I should tell her how I feel. … No, I don't think so, at least not for a while. After all, I wouldn't want to jeopardize our friendship over something as silly as love.'
Being that Mr. Peterson was again seated behind his desk, I parked Mary Beth’s wheelchair next to the chair I'd occupied the day before. As before, paying attention to the details, I gracefully smoothed out my skirt as I sat down. Sitting up straight and with a smile, I made eye contact with Mr. Peterson.
Once I was seated, Mr. Peterson began. "So Matilda, how is life without computers?"
‘That's an odd opening question,’ I thought. "Oh, about the same as before we came here, I guess."
"Yes. Well, during our discussion yesterday you brought up an issue that I hadn't considered. That's why I asked you to see me today. I needed some time to check out the validity of your claim."
"My claim?" I questioned, being just a bit puzzled.
Mr. Peterson changed his tone, sternly he continued, "Yes Matilda, indirectly you made the claim that ‘I’ and this administration don't care about the feelings of certain individuals."
"But I don't remember saying ..."
"Matilda, did you or did you not tell me that your reason for sending the choir's rehearsal over the PA system was for the benefit of those who, under normal circumstances, would never hear our choir perform?"
"Not in those exact words, but, yes."
"And by so doing you indirectly made the claim that I have, possibly, been insensitive to the feelings and desires of those individuals," he continued.
"I never meant to imply that you were ..."
"And you would be correct, at least on one point," he again interrupted, this time with a smile.
'I didn't mean to say that ... Wait a second, what did you say?"
"You were right when you said that there are a lot of people who work here, 'Behind the scenes', I believe is how you put it. Most of them have never heard our choir perform. After taking a quick survey of the support staff, over ninety percent indicated they would enjoy hearing the choir on a semi regular basis."
"You mean that ... Over ninety percent? Soooo, does this mean that ...?"
"Yes Matilda, your idea was a good one and I believe you're intent was sincere. However, your implementation lacked the proper forethought for something of this magnitude. Now, lets move on to the next matter. According to RJ there have been no unauthorized intrusions through any computer on campus over the last twenty-four hours. I'm pleased by this report. You're obviously a girl who keeps her word and can be trusted, but then, I think I knew that already. Therefore, taking everything into consideration, I'm willing to reduce the disciplinary action that I imposed yesterday, from a one week computer suspension to a one day suspension."
I looked from Mr. Peterson to Mary Beth, who was grinning like a Cheshire Cat, then back to Mr. Peterson. After my brain started working again, I enquired, "Does that mean?"
"Yes Matilda, it means that your suspension is suspended," Mr. Peterson said, while opening a desk drawer. "Never let it be said that Gregory Peterson isn't a fair man." He removed something from the open drawer which he placed in front of me ... my PDA.
Gently, I picked up my PDA, "Oh, Mr. Peterson, thank you. I … I never expected this ... Umm, Sir, I’m confused. Why didn't you say something yesterday? I mean why suspend my computer access yesterday, if you were going to give it back today?"
"Honestly? When you told me the reason for what you did, you took me by surprise. It wasn’t what I expected and I needed time to think about what you'd said. Also, I needed time to take and evaluate a survey. I really didn't know which way the survey would turn out. Let's just chalk this one up to an education … for both of us."
"Sounds good to me," I agreed, grinning broadly. Turning towards Mary Beth, "We need to have a party." Realizing that there really isn't any way to have a party, I added, "I wonder what's for dinner?"
"I don't know Munchkin, let's head over there and find out."
"Should we invite?" I asked Mary Beth, nodding towards Mr. Peterson.
"Sure, why not."
Turning back I politely asked, "Would you like to join us for a small celebration in the cafeteria. I don't know what's on the menu, but I haven't been disappointed yet."
"Why thank you for such a kind invitation, considering I'm the principal," he exclaimed with a chuckle and a smile. "However, I'm schedule to be with the upper years this evening. But, I'll pass your compliments on to the kitchen staff. I'm sure they'll appreciate it. Good evening ladies."
We took his last statement as an invitation to leave. We could still hear him chuckling as we went down the hall, to the elevator.
"Would you mind if we make a little detour," I asked, just before we entered the elevator.
"You're not going to get into trouble again, are you?"
"I don't think so. I just want to talk with RJ for a minute or two. I'm pretty sure that won't cause any trouble."
"You're right; talking with RJ won't cause any trouble. It's what you'll do after you talk with him that has me worried." The little scowl on Mary Beth's face told me she was being cautious. The grin that broke out moments later was what I wanted to see. "All, right, Munchkin, we may as well get it over with. Let's go see RJ."
Assuming Mr. Peterson would have informed RJ, I sent RJ a note requesting a few minutes of his time.
A few moments later, my PDA started beeping and vibrating, which of course startled me. Mary Beth thought it was some kind of alarm and that I was in trouble once more. After two cycles of beeping and vibration, I remembered that my PDA had a built in phone. It took me a few more seconds to figure out how to answer it.
The screen indicated that it was RJ calling. "Hello RJ. Sorry it took so long to answer. I'd forgotten that this was also a phone."
"Matilda, if you're not going to administer a proper field test, that is, test all of the PDA's capabilities, perhaps I should find someone who will," came his sharp reply.
I didn't know what to say after that. I started sputtering bits and pieces of what I thought was an apology.
After a couple of seconds I heard RJ laughing, "Slow down Matilda, take it easy! I'm only teasing you. Obviously the phone setup is working. It's the rest of the features that need to be tested. What was it you wanted to see me about?"
"Well, I just wanted to ask if I should still stay away from government systems?"
"That's correct. Remember, officially I have to remind you that if I discover someone hacking into any system, outside of a classroom assignment, I have to report that activity."
"I remember. Is there a chance we could get together tomorrow morning, just to go over some things?"
"Did you have any particular time in mind?
"I'm free from 10:00 until 2:00, if I skip lunch."
"Well, we wouldn't want you to starve to death by skipping lunch. But I can see you tomorrow at ten. I'll meet you in the lab."
"Thank you RJ, I'll be there."
"You're welcome. Bye now."
"Bye, RJ."
"So how long have you known that the PDA's are phones?" Mary Beth exclaimed, verbally accosting me.
"Not all the PDA's, just the new prototypes."
"Oh ... I'm sorry. For a minute it sounded like you were ..."
"... keeping secrets from you. That would be impossible, you know me too well." I finished her statement before it became a question.
‘Oh please dear Lord, that's one question I don't want her to think about ... or to have her ask.’
"Yes, I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
"Of course, I forgive you. I'm getting hungry, let's go get some dinner."
'Before you start asking questions I can't answer.'
"You should be hungry; you hardly ate anything for lunch. Hey, I thought you wanted to see RJ?"
"I have the information I need," I replied. As we made our way to the cafeteria, I told her everything that RJ and I had discussed, including how he teased me at the beginning.
"So why did you want to know that?" Mary Beth asked, referring to the question I’d asked RJ.
"Because, it's time I started putting together the pieces of the Black Bart puzzle. The history of the Roberts family has been churning around in my mind for several days. I think I have an idea why the pieces don't appear to fit together, but I need some more information before I can start putting the pieces together."
"And after you have the puzzle put together ..."
"Then you and I will sit down and decided on our next move," I finished.
"Now that Miss Holmes … is the right answer. Let's eat."
Year A was already in the cafeteria when we arrived.
"Where did you disappear to?" Misa asked as we sat down.
"We were invited for a little chat," I replied.
"A chat?" Morgan inquired.
"With who?" George asked.
"That would be 'With whom?'," Tina corrected.
"All right, with whom?" SueAnn asked.
"With Mr. Peterson." Mary Beth giggled.
"Mr. Peterson!" George exclaimed, a little loudly. Everyone at the table looked at me. "Is you in trouble again? You trying to bust my record?"
"Trust me George, your record remains unchallenged. This was just a little bit more of yesterday's chat," I replied calmly, not wanting to cause a lot of commotion.
"But, yesterday's visit to Mr. Peterson's office left you in tears and banned from all the computers." Misa reminded everyone of the previous days events.
By this time several of our classmates from the other year A table, hearing parts of our conversation, had turned to listen. This caught the attention of the rest of the year.
"True, true, everything you've said is true, but he still wanted to see her today." Mary Beth laid it on pretty thick, as she started an explanation.
"He’s never wanted ta see me two days in a row," George pointed out. "Why'd he want ta talk with you again?"
"I guess he likes my smile. Or maybe it's the way I make him laugh," I teasingly replied.
All of our year was now gathered around our table, along with several from years B and C, hanging on every word.
"Matilda, I know you do not like being the center of attention. If you would please answer the question simply and directly, we can all get back to our dinners. Why did Mr. Peterson wish to see you today?" Jenny pleaded.
"Mr. Peterson wanted to talk some more above my unauthorized use of the PA system. After a brief discussion he said that yesterday was educational, for both of us. Oh, there is one other thing, I will no longer require the services of any of you, my friends, to tell me where to go," I giggled.
There was silence, except for Mary Beth's giggles. Watching their expressions was fun. From his changing expression, Aaron was the first to figure out what I'd said. He took about five seconds to figure it out. Misa, Jenny, and Tina were about two seconds behind Aaron. The rest followed shortly thereafter, with one exception, George.
I suspected that everyone was thinking the same thing, as confirmation I fished my PDA out of its customary pocket, placing it on the table for all to see. Word spread quickly throughout the cafeteria; even the psychiatrists who were in attendance were surprised.
George still hadn't figured it out. In shock, he asked, "You snuck into his office and swiped your PDA?"
"No George, Mr. Peterson gave it back to me."
"But that can't be. It would mean that he’d have ta admit he made a mistake. No school principal would ever admit ta being wrong, even if they knew they was wrong. Nobody would be afraid of them if they did that."
"Oh come on George, you've been here longer than I have. Haven't you figured out that this school isn't like any other school? Mr. Peterson doesn't want us to be afraid of him; he wants us to respect him, and respect isn't something you get just because you have a title. Respect is something that we give to those who deserve it, and it isn't given easily. Respect is something each of us earns by being honest and fair, and by giving respect to others. Mr. Peterson changed his mind about banning me from the computers after he had time to think about why I did what I did. That's why he asked me to see him today; it gave him a day to think about the whole situation."
"That was a very profound statement, Matilda. Is that your own or did you hear it somewhere?" Kathy Ray, our table’s visiting psychiatrist, asked.
"Really, Matilda was profound?" Wally teased.
"Uhh, which part?" I quickly asked before the heckling got out of hand.
"The part about earning respect," Kathy Ray clarified.
"Well, actually ... I probably heard it somewhere. Although, right now I'm not sure where I heard it," I confessed.
"Probably Star Trek," Barb teased.
"Must have been, most of her quotes come from Star Trek," Em added, which left me a little embarrassed, as everyone else giggled and nodded in agreement.
With the excitement over, at least for the moment, everyone that was standing around went back to their meals. We continued ours without any more profound statements, quotes, or interruptions.
With my exciting news, everyone forgot to tell Mary Beth or me that the additional ornament catalogs had arrived. We didn’t discover that little detail until we arrived in the lounge, after dinner. As we went through the new catalogs, both Mary Beth and I found just the right ornaments. As it turned out, about half of year A changed their requests after seeing the new selections.
The rest of the day turned out to be somewhat routine. No surprises for me, and more important, I didn't cause any. The only difference was I spent every free moment chasing down leads that might reveal the secret of Bart's past. There was a lot of information, but most of it hadn't made sense. Being that RJ requested that I avoid any government system, I concentrated on national and local news services, along with the local schools, hospitals, and banks. As it turned out, Bart's parents were loaded. They had accounts in eight local banks, with over a million dollars in each one. This made me think about national and international banks as well. I decided to check them out later. As for Bart, he only had two bank accounts. Together they totaled just over ten thousand, not bad for ten-year-old monster. As I was telling Mary Beth about what I'd found, I was tempted to tell her about Joshua ...
'Mr. Peterson didn't make me promise not to say anything. Then again, he did say that I could be trusted, “a girl who keeps her word,” he said. And if I told Mary Beth now after, what's it been, only three hours since I told her I wasn't keeping any secrets from her, what will she think of me. What would Mr. Peterson say ... a girl who can be trusted, yeah, right! I'm beginning to hate this school and all of its secrets.'
... but reluctantly, I sighed and continued keeping that secret deep inside.
* * * * *
The next morning, I arranged to start with RJ at nine instead of ten. I cut my visit with Rachael short; promising to make it up to her on Sunday. To my surprise, RJ had arranged for lunch to be delivered. I wondered if the kitchen had prepared pizza for everyone that day, or was it just a special treat requested by RJ.
As we were finishing up for the day, RJ looked at me and shook his head.
"What have I done wrong this time?" I wanted to know.
"Nothing … that's the problem."
"Doing nothing wrong is a problem?"
"No, doing nothing wrong is a good thing. However, with how quickly you've learned all of this new information, adding that to your natural talents and abilities, I can see there'll be no stopping you. You'll definitely be an asset to the team. The problem is that there's no way for me to keep track of where you're going or where you've been, let alone what systems you've gotten into. Matilda, will you promise me something? Promise me that you'll never use your gifts with computers for personal reasons, only for the benefit of others?"
"But isn't going after Bart, personal?"
"Well, the way you explained it the other day, you're not going after Bart just because of what he did to you, Rachael, and Mary Beth. If I remember correctly, you're trying to protect the other kids at your old school. Is that still why you're doing this?"
"Yes! With me here, instead of being there, Bart will go after a lot of the other kids."
"So what you're telling me is that when you were there, Bart picked on you more, leaving the other kids alone?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much how it was," I agreed sadly, remembering how Bart treated me.
"So in a way, you were protecting the other kids while you were there, even if you didn't realize that's what you were doing. Now that you're here, you're trying to find a different way of protecting them, is that correct?"
"You know, I never thought of it that way, but I guess you're right."
"So, as long as what you are doing, or you're trying to do, will protect, or in some way help someone else; your actions would be benefiting others. If you were only looking for revenge, or if you were to hack into a bank system or manipulate the stock market for your own benefit, that would be personal. Do you understand?"
I nodded in reply. Everything he'd explained was very clear and made a lot of sense.
"So, will you promise me, never for personal reasons?"
"Well, I'm going to have to think about this for a little while, and talk with Mary Beth about it. I sort of made a promise to her the other day not to jump in with both feet, at least not without talking to her first."
"That's an honest answer, thank you. Is there anything else you want to talk about today?"
"Actually, there are a couple of things; first, I'd like permission to set up a secured directory on one of the servers. I've almost filled the internal memory of my PDA and need someplace to store the information I'm collecting."
"Umm, yes, that would be all right. You've really filled the two-fifty-six meg of internal memory?" I responded by slowly nodding. "I'm not going to ask to see your data; I'm assuming it has to do with Bart. However, I reserve the right to examine it sometime in the future. What else may I help you with?"
"Mr. Peterson told me that sending the choir's singing over the PA wasn't a bad thing, just done the wrong way. So I want to find the right way to share the choir's music. I don't know who to talk to about it. Also, like I was thinking yesterday, can the PA system be selectively programmed?"
"Looking at the time; I think we should save this discussion until Monday."
"Okay RJ, I'll see you Monday," I replied with a smile.
Other than choir practice and dinner, I spent the rest of Saturday in my room working back and forth between my computer and PDA. My PDA would do everything I needed, but I'm faster with a full keyboard. Mary Beth stayed close by, which was nice, although somewhat distracting. I think she was listening to French music most of the time.
Sunday was pretty much the same, although there were a few exceptions. The things that pulled me out of my room were the need for food, going to church, choir practice, and seeing Rachael. Oddly, six or eight of the upper year students who normally portray a male gender, showed up to the afternoon choir practice as their female selves.
Between dinner and evening choir practice I started screaming; Mary Beth thought I was having some sort of breakdown. After I settled down she realized I was just excited. I had discovered the Roberts family secret! I had pieced together the puzzle and now I had the whole picture, well, at least ninety percent of it. The question still to be answered was what do we do next? What could we do? We talked for a while, but didn't come up with anything.
When we arrived for evening choir practice, we noticed a lot of new faces. That is, in the older year study partnerships. The study partners that were normally mixed gender, one or the other had changed their portrayed gender, to match that of their study partner. At the time I thought it was a little odd, considering it was Sunday, not Freaky Friday.
As I was drifting off to sleep, a thought crawled out of the dark forgotten recesses of my mind to become an almost contuse thought. It was a piece of information I'd found during one of my early visits to Joshua, the S. P. A. I hadn't paid any attention to the reference when I found it, but I'd started reevaluating much of the information that I'd previously dismissed. Because I still hadn't determined a course of action, I thought that just possibly, someone from the agency might be able to offer some suggestions.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 14
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
UMMM
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 14
By Penny Reed Cardon
For some unknown reason, Monday morning found me wide-awake much earlier than usual. I carefully slipped out of bed, I quietly showered and dressed and was hard at work by the time Mary Beth woke up. “Morning Munchkin,” she called out sleepily, still hiding under the covers. “You’re up bright and early, what kind of trouble are you getting into this time?”
Being that I couldn’t tell her about Joshua, which is where I was looking for information, I fudged a little, “Just looking through one of the system servers.”
“Matilda, I was kidding before. Now I'm not so sure you aren't trying to get into trouble.”
“You know me; I never try to get into trouble. But I may have come up with an idea to stop Bart.”
'Oops, that was a mistake; she's going to ask questions.'
“Really, that's great. Who do you think will be able to do something to stop him?"
'I knew that was coming. I'm going to have to tell her something, sometime soon. I just need to figure out what and when.'
"I don't know if this idea is going to work or not, it's just a crazy idea I had. So, I'm trying to find enough information to see if it has a chance of working."
'Not exactly a lie, but not entirely truthful, either. This is getting harder all the time, keeping straight who I can talk to about what.'
"All right, just remember to talk with me before you DO anything. I'm going to take a shower. You didn't use all the hot water, did you?" she asked, with a teasing giggle.
"What?" I mumbled, distracted by her question. Turning I saw her green, satin covered, bottom wiggling as she got off the bed. "Umm, no, of course not. Go take your shower, you silly goose," I chuckled. I shook my head to clear my mind, so I could return to my work.
Before Mary Beth returned, to have her abdomen wrapped, I had the basics of a plan. I needed to talk with RJ about my information and idea, as he was the only one on the team that I knew. I wondered which of the teams he’d been referring to, last Saturday, that I'd be an asset to. I guess it didn't matter. Either way, I had to wait until my computer class before I could talk with him. If I had tried to skip breakfast, or French class, Mary Beth would become suspicious and demand answers.
After we were all seated for breakfast, Mr. Peterson stood up for his usual morning announcements. Only while this announcement wasn't so usual, at least it seemed odd to me.
"Good morning everyone. It's nice to see almost everyone was on time this morning. I admit, fresh snow presents a temptation to stop and play, with most of our students. Now then, on to the business at hand. Once again, we've come to that point in time, where final arrangements for our upcoming field trip have to be completed. I know that many of you have been experimenting with different looks, learning to become passable as either gender, while trying to determine how you feel the most comfortable. I commend you for your efforts. However, being that we will be going to another country, and with the tightening of border security, it is time to restrict your experimentation. Everyone is to remain in the gender, you chose to portray this morning, until after we return from Toronto. Thank you for your attention. Enjoy your meal and have a nice day."
'That was an odd announcement. Why would they care about how we are dressed between now and when we leave? This must be part of this school’s mystery that I haven't figured out yet. I don't think asking questions would be the right thing to do, just yet. I might be able to learn more about this from Joshua. But then, I wouldn't be able to talk with Mary Beth about it. I wonder if the Moms#07 server is still on line, I could copy the information there, read it in detail, before erasing it. That way I could honestly say it was there.'
The rest of the morning seemed to drag on forever. Eventually, our French class was over; I really had to restrain myself to keep from running while pushing Mary Beth to her voice lesson with Mrs. T. Once I dropped her off, I almost sprinted to see RJ.
"Good morning, Matilda," RJ greeted me, as I entered the room a little out of breath.
"Morning," I paused, catching my breath, “RJ.” Looking around, I verified that we were alone before I closed and locked the door.
"You seem to have been running, is something wrong? And, why did you lock the door?"
"No, nothing wrong, but I do need to talk with you privately," I replied, as I rounded the end of the tables, approaching his desk.
"What's on your mind?"
"I've solved the puzzle; at least, I think I've solved most of it."
"And just which puzzle would that be?"
"Black Bart ... the Roberts family, and why all their relatives are listed as deceased. Actually, I guess they'd have to be listed as deceased, because they never really existed in the first place; that is, they were ghosts, phantoms, figments of someone's imagination."
"Matilda, I'm not exactly following you. What do you mean, ‘never existed’. Everyone has a past, relatives -"
"Not,” I interrupted, “if you were given a new identity."
"Do you mean that -"
"Yes,” I interrupted again. “At least that's what I think is going on. It would explain why the District Attorney's Office can't do anything. Why they can get away with hurting everyone around them. They feel like they're above the law, at least outside the reach of local law enforcement. I'm not positive, but I think they're being protected by the federal witness protection program."
"Are you certain of your information?"
"Not one-hundred percent, but I'm pretty sure. I’ll show you what I have, if I may?” I replied, pointing towards his computer
RJ logged out and moved aside, allowing me to access his computer. Logging in, I accessed the directory I'd setup on Joshua. I heard RJ gasp, when he realized which server I was using. Ignoring his reaction, which I’d expected, I brought up some of the data I collected from five of the eight banks.
"Matilda, I thought you were asked to stay away from Joshua?"
"No!” I replied, bluntly. “No one ever made such a request. Mr. Peterson told that I couldn't tell anyone about Joshua. He also said only three people here that knew about Joshua and that I made it four. He never told me I couldn't review the data residing there. When I asked if I could set up a directory on one of the servers, to store my information, you said nothing about not putting it on Joshua. Now, if you don’t mind, would please tell me what you think of these files?" I displayed one file after another
"So they have a lot of money. Remember, I asked you not to use your skills for personal reasons."
"I have no interest in their money, just the account information. Knowing how the Roberts treat people, that’s blood money. I'm sure that someone was in some sort of pain for every penny the Roberts squeezed. Anyway, that's not important right now; according to this information, how long would you say these accounts have been active?" I displayed the accounts again.
"Three of them are fourteen years, one is sixteen years and the fifth has been open for twenty years. I don't see the relevance -"
"Check the creation dates on the files!" I interrupted, stepping aside so RJ would have access to the keyboard and mouse.
"They were all created on June twelfth, of two-thousand, four years and five months ago," he confirmed, after checking all of the files.
"To your knowledge, did anything important happen on that date? Any reason that five different banks would have had to re-create records on that day?" I asked.
"Nothing that I'm aware of," he replied, backing away from the desk.
"Ahh, but it was a memorable day for someone, and a very busy day for some computer programmer. I’m sure it took a lot of work to create all these records" I said, as I opened another sub-directory.
"After you cleared me to look at government systems, I took another look at the bureau of records. According to his birth certificate, Bart was born on August fourth, nineteen-ninety-four, making him ten years old. His dad was born in September of sixty-nine, and his mom in May of seventy-two. According to their marriage license, they were married in September of ninety-two." As I was talking I displayed copies of each of their birth certificates and marriage license. I stepped aside, again, giving RJ access.
RJ checked the creation dates, "All of those records were created on June twelfth, of two-thousand. I suppose all of the deceased relatives records were created on the same day?"
I nodded, adding "Along with school records, driver’s licenses, Social Security numbers, and IRS records. Everything the Roberts needed to start a new life was created on that day."
"You hacked into the Social Security Administration and the IRS?" It's a good thing RJ was sitting down, otherwise I think he'd have fallen down.
"Naturally, how else would I get that information? I only went into the local offices though, I didn't see any reason to dig into the systems at their national headquarters."
RJ looked a little stunned, as if he'd been expecting a different answer. After several moments to collect his thoughts and another moment shaking his head, he asked, "I’m almost afraid to ask the next question. Why are you showing all of this to me?"
'That's strange, I thought RJ would have understood why. I know he’s part of the team and they were indirectly involved with raid on the estate that Ellen told me about. On second thought, perhaps I'm jumping the gun, maybe this isn't time to reveal everything I know, and maybe RJ isn't the right person to talk with after all. I don't think now is a good time to tell him about my plans to visit the systems at the US Marshals office. Still ... I have to answer his question ...'
"Well ... I was just wondering if I was looking at the right information, wondering if you would agree that all these files were created on the same day. Indicating that a new identity is at least a possibility."
'Oh good heavens, that was lame. RJ's going to see through that in about half a second. Maybe, MayBee's right, I need to remember to talk with her before I run off like this. Course, I wouldn't call this Doing anything, I’m just talking. At least if I was talking to her, I wouldn't be stepping all over my own tongue.'
RJ looked at me for several long moments, before answering, "Yes, I would say that you've correctly evaluated the information. The file creation dates wouldn't be apparent to anyone accessing the file. In order to notice the discrepancy someone would have to look at the file structure, as you have done. Is there ... anything else you wanted to discuss?"
"Umm ... No, not right now."
RJ looked at me oddly for several seconds, as if he knew what I was hiding. I was becoming more nervous with each tick of the clock. Finally he broke the silence, "Very well, I suggest we revisit you're question from last Saturday about the PA system."
The good news was that the PA system is programmable, at least to a point. The only question along that line was, how to determine which buildings to schedule music into and when. Somehow, I also managed to get through the rest of class, without RJ asking any questions that I didn’t want to answer, and wasn’t sure the best way to answer. That is until I was getting ready to walk out the door.
"Matilda, I'd like to point out that all the information you've collected only adds up to speculation, unless ..."
"Unless?"
"Unless, you have something you haven't shown me."
"Like what?" I nervously inquired.
"Matilda, as I see it, you need three things; first, you need proof, some sort of documentation that will back up and corroborate your suspicion. Second, you need a plan of action. That is, what do you propose to do once you have all the information collected, with the documentation to prove that your speculation is indeed factual. Have you thought that far ahead? And third, you need to determine who you're willing to trust. From the way you were sputtering you haven't decided if you can trust me or not. I hope that someday I will earn your trust. ... Good day, Matilda," RJ concluded with a smile. Then he returned to whatever he was doing before I arrived, completely ignoring the fact that I was still in the room.
I was in shock, speechless, and for a moment, I considered showing RJ the rest of the information. Considering my options, I decided to wait. His smile told me that he wasn’t upset or angry, it was almost as if he was telling me what I needed to do. He was correct in that I didn't have a plan. For that, I would need to talk with Mary Beth.
After lunch, Mary Beth and I joined the rest of the year in the lounge.
"What are you two doing here?" Wally asked sarcastically.
"What do you mean?" Mary Beth returned the question.
"Outside of meals and choir practice, we ain't seen you in pret-near three days," George added.
"It's almost like you joined the mystery group, or something," Howard proclaimed.
'Howard, you don't know how close to the truth you are.'
"Are you all right Matilda," Jenny asked. "You are looking a little pale."
"What? ... Oh, umm, yeah, I'm okay. I've just got a lot on my mind right now," I weakly replied.
"We’ve just been spending more time in our rooms," Mary Beth informed everyone.
"Are you saying you don't like our company?" Morgan asked, teasingly.
"Nothing like that," I countered. "I've been doing a lot of research, the last few days, and MayBee has been keeping me company."
'Oh no, me and my big mouth. That's going to get some questions coming my way. Questions I don't want to answer.'
"Research? What kind of research?" queried Barb.
"Yeah, the only time we've had to do any research, is for a class assignment," Tina mentioned.
"And the only classes we have right now are French and choir," SueAnn remarked.
"Not quite. The Munchkin has a special computer class," Aaron reminded them.
"RJ has assigned you so much work, that it's taken all your free time, for three days?" Misa asked.
"No, it's nothing anything RJ assigned me. It's just something I ... Umm ... was interested in."
'I wonder how long I can talk without saying anything. Some people can talk for hours without saying anything meaningful; politicians have turned that ability into a profession.'
"Something you're interested in? It must be really interesting to keep you at it for three days. Care to share with the rest of us?" Hope inquired.
"Yes, maybe we'd find it interesting too," Abbey continued.
I looked at Mary Beth to see if she would offer any help. She smiled and gave an encouraging little nod.
'No help there, but by her nod I'll assume she thinks its okay for me to tell them what I've found. I’ll have to be careful; I don't want to mention something I haven't told Mary Beth. So much for playing politician.'
Sighing I began, "You all remember the horrible things that Black Bart did to Rachael, MayBee, and me." Everyone nodded, as they paired up as study partners. I supposed they thought this was going to be another tear-jerker story.
"Well, I've been digging into Bart's past and his family secrets. I’m trying to figure out why he and his family are able to get away with hurting so many people. What I've found is pretty surprising. If everything I've discovered is correct, five years ago, the Roberts family didn't exist."
"What do you mean they didn't exist?" Misa asked.
"Yeah, a whole family don't appear overnight," George added.
"Overnight? No, not overnight, but in the course of twenty-four hours you can create a family. Along with all the background documentation for them and some fictional relatives," Mary Beth announced, based on what I'd told her. I sighed and looked down.
'Oops, that’s just a little too much information, my friend.'
"You're telling us that someone created a background for someone that doesn't exist and the Roberts took their place? That would take a lot of programming in a lot of computer systems, wouldn't it?" Aaron asked.
"Actually, I think it was done FOR the Roberts, so they could hide from someone. You're right Aaron, it was a lot of programming," I confirmed. "I've uncovered public records, birth certificates, marriage, hospital, and school records, not only for Bart, but for both of his parents."
Mary Beth jumped in, almost as if she were showing some sort of pride, "There were also some banks, plus the Salt Lake County District Attorney's office. Not to mention the Salt Lake police department, the Sheriff's department, and the US Marshal's. ..." I gave her hand a squeeze so she wouldn't tell them everything.
'So much for trying to keep things low key. We'll have to talk more about what to tell the others and what not.'
"You ... you've hacked into all those systems?" Aaron's astonishment was very evident.
I nodded shyly, "But, please don't tell anyone. I could get into a lot of trouble if the wrong people found out, what I've been doing.”
"You ... You're kidding; Matilda's hacked into the US Marshal's system?" George seemed almost in a panic.
"No George; I haven't hacked into the US Marshal's computers. But in order to confirm my theory, I guess I'll have to try to get into their systems."
"But ... Nooo ... I mean, you can't! Not the US Marshal's." George was starting to panic.
Sue took a hold of both of George's hands, squeezing to get his attention. Speaking directly to him, she quietly tried to reassure him, "George, George, it's all right George, relax. Nobody here is going to care about what happened. They forced you, remember. Come on now ... relax."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any problems," I apologized. "Is there something I should know, or know to stay away from?"
"Do you want to tell them?" Sue asked George. He responded by fervently shaking his head. His eyes were open as wide as silver dollars.
"I suppose you don't want me to tell them, do you?" Sue asked. Her second question received the same reply as her first.
"Relax, George. Relax, its okay. We don't have to tell anyone anything. Do you want to go talk with Patricia? You know how helpful she's been." George started shaking his head, then paused, then slowly started to nod.
Sue helped George slowly get to his feet, as they started for the door.
"Do you need any help?" Barb asked.
"No, we'll be fine, but thanks for the offer."
"I will send a note to Patricia, so she will know you are on your way," Jenny offered.
"Thanks, Jenny," Sue said softly, as she grabbed their coats and headed out the door.
Jenny started typing a note on her PDA to send to Patricia, George's psychiatrist. I checked to see which phones I could access with my PDA. Finding that all the psychiatrists were linked, I dialed the number and handed my PDA to Jenny. "This model has a phone built in," I explained, as Patricia's phone was ringing.
Jenny's conversation with Patricia was short, even though Patricia had asked several questions. "Thank you Matilda, that was so much nicer than sending a text message. When will all of our PDA's be upgraded?"
"RJ hasn't told me anything about upgrading all of the PDA's. I only know that we're testing these for the next two months." Jenny's hand touched mine as she returned my PDA. Suddenly her eyes went wide as if she were startled or hit by static electricity.
"Maybe I should do a little extra looking around when I get into the US Marshal's network," I thought aloud.
"Oh no you don't," Mary Beth cautioned abruptly. "I know you have an unending need to solve mysteries, but that mystery is for George, SueAnn, and Patricia; NOT YOU! Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," I mumbled.
Mary Beth gently turned my head so we were looking into each other’s eyes. "Promise?"
How could I not give her anything she wants, "Yes, I promise; only information about Bart and the Roberts family."
"Thank you. Now can you behave yourself for ten minutes, while I go to the bathroom?" she asked, with a giggle.
"Yeeesss, I can behave for ten minutes," I replied, very sarcastically. "I don't know about fifteen, though, so you'd better hurry," I added, with a teasing giggle.
Since the big show appeared to be over, everyone drifted back to where they were before, and their own activities.
We were both giggling, as Mary Beth got up and walked towards the bathroom. Absent mindedly, I turned my head and watched her until she was about to disappear. In fact, I was so engrossed in watching Mary Beth that I didn’t realize Jenny had sat down next to me, that is until she took my hand.
Startled by the touch; I tried to pull my hand away, as I turned to see who had touched me. When I saw it was Jenny, I tried even harder. There were things running around in my head that I didn't want her to know and I hadn't learned to control my feelings yet. Jenny wasn't about to let go, soon the calming effect I'd felt before overwhelmed me and I stopped resisting.
'This is ridiculous, I have to pay attention and stop letting Mary Beth distract me. You can practically read my mind, Jenny, go ahead and say it, Resistance is futile.'
"Matilda, are you suggesting that I am one of the Borg?"
"No Jenny, not Borg. Actually, I'm starting to think you're part Betazoid and part Vulcan. Now, may I have my hand back before you uncover all my secrets?"
Jenny smiled as she let go. "There is only one secret that I wish to ask you about ..."
'Please don't ask about the mystery group, the field trips, the school … oh my there are so many secrets in my head ... at least you don't know to ask about seeing our families.'
"... Have you told Mary Beth that you love her?" she whispered
I think I swallowed my tongue as I was sputtering, "What ... What makes you think I'm, I'm in ..." I whispered
"Matilda, I don’t need to touch you to feel that one, I can sense love from across the room. Love is, after all, one of the strongest emotions. Our hands briefly touched, when I returned your PDA and I felt that something. Something is troubling you, causing you much stress and anxiety, you are hiding secrets. Holding your hand just now confirmed what I felt; you are hiding your love from Mary Beth."
'It's a good thing you're not holding my hand now, I don't want to try to explain how many secrets I'm hiding from her.'
"Umm, well, I, ah, I'm probably wrong. You know, mixed up and confused about my feelings, probably not really love at all. After all, I'm only ten, what do I know about love, anyway?"
"Matilda, I cannot tell you what you are thinking or of what you are trying to convince yourself. I can only tell you what your emotions tell me. From what I feel, you are in love with Mary Beth. You are also keeping that, a secret from her, and that is part of your confusion. You need to talk with her, tell her how you feel. Remember, there are to be no secrets between study partners."
"Yeah, no secrets - easy to say, hard to live," I mumbled, as I hung my head.
"What's going on here?" Mary Beth asked, as she came up behind us.
"Just a friendly chat," I replied, lifting my head and forcing a smile.
"And an offer of advice," Jenny added, rising to give Mary Beth the seat next to me.
"Oookaaay," Mary Beth said, looking from me to Jenny and back. "I guess this means we'll talk later?" she suggested.
"Sure," I replied.
"I do hope so," Jenny added, as she returned to the couch where Aaron and Abbey were discussing computers.
"What was that all about?" Mary Beth quietly asked, as she sat down.
"Jenny said she felt something that she couldn't explain. I couldn't tell her about what we know, about families. So I let her think I’m keeping secrets from you to cover the fact that we are keeping secrets from everyone else," I whispered my reply.
‘Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. It wasn’t what Jenny and I were talking about, on the other hand, what I told Mary Beth wasn’t a lie. Is that what they call stretching the truth?’
"And are you?" she whispered back.
"Am I what?"
"Are you keeping secrets from me?" She asked pointedly.
'That's it, the one question you're not supposed to ask. Now what do I do? I can't say no. That would be flat out lying. I can't say yes, even though that would be the right thing to say. I can't tell her everything I know. She may not care about me keeping Joshua a secret. It’s how she’ll react when I tell her that I love her, that scares me the most.'
I'd decided to admit to keeping things to myself when my PDA vibrated. "Hold that thought," I jokingly replied.
Checking the display, on the screen were seven little words, which caused my spirits to sink a little lower. Not because of what was on the screen, but because it was another reminder of the secrets I've been forced to keep.
Displayed was;
Would you like to play a game?
I cleared the display and timidly looked up. Mary Beth was still waiting for an answer.
"Perhaps one or two," I whispered.
'Actually it's more like one or two dozen.'
"Humm ... I thought we were friends?"
"We are friends."
'I think of us as more than friends, but I'm too scared to tell you how I feel.'
"But friends don't keep secrets from each other, do they?"
“Sometimes they have to,” I replied, so softly I don’t think she heard me. I couldn't keep it together any longer and started crying.
Mary Beth's attitude softened and she put her arms around me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. It must be something really important for you to keep it from me. We'll talk about it later, okay?"
I nodded, and sniffled. Being held by Mary Beth was more comforting than having Jenny holding my hand. My tears quickly ceased and I took my turn going to the bathroom.
'Now what am I going to do? Mary Beth is expecting to talk later. I can't tell her about Joshua and if I tell her that I love her she's going to think I'm ... I'm stupid. What am I going to do? ... How do I get into these messes? How am I going to tell Mr. Peterson that I've told Mary Beth? I’m going to have to tell her everything; I can't keep going on like this it's driving me crazy. It's bad enough that I have to keep all of this from the rest of the year, but not having anyone I can talk to or confide in is tearing me up. If I keep this up I'm going to slip up and leak something to someone. ... I can't carry this around much longer. ... I can't tell anyone what I know. ... I can't keep all these secrets to myself. ... Mr. Peterson says I can't tell anyone. ... Ellen says I can't keep secrets from Mary Beth. ... I can't lie to Mary Beth. ... But I can't be honest with Mary Beth ... I can't tell anyone ... I can't keep secrets ... I can't lie ... I can't be honest ... I can't tell ... I can't keep ... I can't lie ... I can't be honest ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't ...' . . . I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't . . .
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at [email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 15
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Now what am I supposed to I do?
I've lost my best friend!
- - -
and my love!
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 15
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.
. . .
“Because it’s breaking!”
. . .
* * * To Be Continued * * *
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
Education in the Hills - chapter 16
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
You just have to watch out for the lightning.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 16
I woke the next morning to bright sunshine filling my room. Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature about the thunderstorm that was hovering a few inches above my head.
I lay in bed for a few minutes, remembering how I stupidly messed up my talk with Mary Beth. I started crying again, as if my bed wasn't wet enough.
'I guess I should have made one last trip to the bathroom last night, I suppose it would have been this morning. I wish that my stupid bladder would grow a little faster. I remember that Dr. Swenson said that my bladder would catch up with the rest of me, someday. The question is, when will the rest of me going to catch up with everyone else? Maybe I should talk with Dr. Harris about all of this. Maybe he knows something my old doctor didn't. Right now I’ve got two bigger problems, getting Nellie clean and dry, and how do I fix my blunder with Mary Beth?'
I don't know how long I cried before I reluctantly got up and sloshed my way to the bathroom, carrying Nellie with me. After dumping my clothes down the laundry chute, which left me shivering, I undressed Nellie. I took her clothes into the shower with me and washed them after I finished my shower. A nice hot shower is such a great way to start your day; at least it would have been if I weren't so miserable. After I was dressed I hung Nellie's clothes on one of the empty hangers. The bed was next; I stripped off the sheets, stuffing everything down the laundry chute. Nellie was pretty much dry by then; so I used a damp washcloth with a little of the strawberry shampoo to try and make her smell fresh and clean.
It was almost eleven o'clock by the time I was finished. I was surprised that I hadn't heard a sound from the other side of the door. I retrieved my PDA from its charger, and accessed the locator system. I keyed in Mary Beth's ID code and made a small discovery.
'That explains why her room is so quiet; she's in Ellen's office. At least she doesn't know I had a problem this morning ... Oh wait, no secrets. I guess that means I'll have to tell her how upset I was, that I cried most of the night, and was so exhausted from crying that I didn't wake up and I ... right now I don't know if she'd even care. Shoot, she probably doesn't even want to see me. She's probably demanding that Ellen get her a new study partner. After all, they'll never let her go home now, not with what I told her last night. I sure know how to make a mess of things, don't I? Right now I’m almost certain she won't want to see me or listen to anything I say. It wouldn’t surprise me if she refuses to be in the same room with me. I guess there's only one thing left for me to do ... I just don't know how I can do it ... There's always so many people around ... almost no privacy ... Anything I plan will be difficult ... How can I get Mary Beth alone ... How I can apologize if she won't even see me?'
Thinking that the only way to get Mary Beth to listen to me was to enlist the assistance of someone that she’d have to listen to; I sent Ellen a note:
Ellen,
If Mary Beth isn't too upset with me,
I'd like to come over and apologize.
Thanks
Matilda
I'm not too good at waiting patiently; fortunately I didn't have to wait too long for a reply.
Matilda,
Give us a little more time.
Stop by the cafeteria and get
something to eat.
I'll see you in forty-five minutes.
NOT any sooner.
Ellen
So I had almost an hour to kill. Being that my PDA was in my hand I started looking for the US Marshal's office, that is, an access point into their computer network. Failing in my first two attempts, I gave up for the moment. I left my room and absentmindedly started walking.
Discovering I was near the cafeteria, I went in. The cafeteria was deserted, being the time was somewhere between breakfast and lunch. I was more depressed than hungry, but I nibbled my way through a banana anyway, then headed for Ellen’s office. Somewhere around the appointed time I knocked on her door. A few moments later it opened.
"Oh, it's you," Mary Beth said, as she opened the door. Her tone was somewhere between surprise and disgust. "Well, don't just stand there, come in."
"Are you sure you want to see me?" I asked timidly, my eyes spontaneously started filling with tears.
"Not really, but I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you’re asking," she replied softly.
"Come in Matilda," Ellen beckoned.
I slowly walked past Mary Beth, keeping an eye on her. 'This is ridiculous; I shouldn't have to watch out for what Mary Beth might do. She has always been the one protecting me. I guess this time my self-preservation instinct is wrong.’ I paused for a moment just a few feet inside the door. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and shook my head, to help me settle down.
I heard the door behind me close. I shook for a moment before I opened my eyes and continued. I was only a few steps ahead of Mary Beth. Wondering what she’d do, I sat on the couch on Ellen's right; Mary Beth sat on the couch across from me.
‘I guess that’s no surprise.’
"That's a bit odd," Ellen stated. "I've never seen you two this far apart, at least not when you've been in the same room."
"I'm pretty sure it's my fault," I admitted, as my tear ducts opened up again.
"Why would you say that?" Ellen asked.
For the first time since arriving I looked up at Ellen. I was surprised by her question. I knew that she and Mary Beth have been together for at least an hour, probably longer. I answered her question with one of my own, "If you two haven't been talking about what I told Mary Beth last night, what have you been talking about?” I paused, pulling some tissues from the box on the table and wiped my eyes. “Actually, I guess it was early this morning that I told her that I loved her." I found the carpet in Ellen's office strangely attractive, the pattern seemed to change as my tears continued to flow.
"Yes," Ellen replied, "we have been talking for a while, but I’m wondering, how did you know she was here?"
"She used the locator system," Mary Beth volunteered, almost bitterly.
"That system is supposed to be off limits to the students." Ellen sounded surprised.
I didn't say anything, I didn't have to, Mary Beth freely admitted my guilt. "Well, you know the Munchkin; she gets into a lot of things that are supposed to be off limits.” She paused a moment, when she continued the tone of her voice was softer. “Actually ... it's one of the things I like about her." That caught my attention, snapping my head up to look into Mary Beth's eyes. She almost smiled, "Life is never dull with the little Munchkin around."
'LITTLE! Gee thanks, a compliment and an insult in the same sentence. Thanks a lot.'
"I'll agree with that," Ellen added. "Not to mention, she has the cutest little frown, don't you think?"
"Yeah ... I guess she does have a cute frown,” Mary Beth conceded. Her tone was softer, not so bitter. After a moment’s pause she added, “It’s not as cute as the dimples in her cheeks when she's smiling."
"So! You do have feelings for Matilda, you do care about her, and you've paid enough attention to notice the little things that most people wouldn't," Ellen jumped at the opportunity to validate her positive comment.
"I never said I don't care about her, or that I don't like her. I just don't want to ... well ... you know." It was Mary Beth's turn to blush.
"You mean, you don't want to have a sexual relationship with Matilda?" Ellen asked bluntly.
“Ewwww” we chorused. That one took us both by surprise. One, that Ellen would talk about such things so openly with us; second, that she was asking us if we wanted that kind of relationship. Mary Beth and I were both blushing and sputtering nonsense as we momentarily stared at each other, before we both turned and look at her.
"Who said anything about ... about sex?" I finally managed to ask meekly, almost whispering. My tears had momentarily stopped, but were on the verge of freely running down my cheeks.
Ellen calmly looked from me to Mary Beth, who eventually answered my question. Her 'I'm mad at you' voice was back. "You did, last night."
Shaking my head, I again turned to face Ellen, "Didn't I say this was my fault? Stupidly, I blurted out 'I love you' without any explanation." That was all it took, one statement brought back the horrible memory of the night before, along with bringing out more tears.
"See! She said it again."
"Mary Beth … I - I said that I L - Love you … I - I didn't say anything about s - sex."
"Right, you said you love me. Then I said that I love you too, best friends love and help each other. Then you said that I was wrong and that you loved me like in a husband and wife."
"N - No. Hus - husband and wife w - were your words, n - not mine."
"You didn't disagree or try to say anything different."
"Y - You didn't give me a chance. You j - jumped off the b - bed and ran out of the room slam - slamming the door. I - I sat up for hours wa - waiting for you to come b - back, so I could explain."
"Explain! Explain what?"
It took me a few moments to reply to her question. Being forced to think, logically, did wonders for stopping the continuous flow of tears. "Mary Beth, there are lots of ways to say I Love You. Protecting someone from a bully is one way of saying it."
"So now you're telling me that this is my fault? You thought, that because I helped you, that I loved you?"
I was stumbling a bit, searching for the right words. When Ellen came to my rescue, "I think what she’s trying to say is that helping someone in a crises is one way of expressing love.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” I agreed. “There are lots of ways to show someone that they love them, most of them have nothing to do with, with ... sex." I'd heard the word several times, but it still felt really strange saying it.
We looked at each other for the longest time before Mary Beth asked, "So you weren't trying to-"
"No Mary Beth,” I interrupted, “I wasn't."
"I thought that you thought -"
"Oh, Mary Beth, of course not! First of all, and please don't think I’m just being a little kid, but I don't want to …" I shuttered thinking about it, "well, you know. Second, it's against school rules. Third, we're too young to even think about that. And fourth, I remember what Elder Johnson said two weeks ago about doing … you know, before marriage."
"But you are a little kid Matilda, and so am I,” she giggled. “I'm sorry I acted the way I did. It's just that ... well, I'd heard some of the girls at Whittier talking about how some of them had, you know, and I thought you were -"
"Oh, I’m sorry I made you think that,” I interrupted. “I was just being honest with you; which is another way of expressing love. Actually, if you want to know the truth, and to be completely honest, I've known that I loved you since that fateful day in Liberty Park."
"Day in Liberty Park? What day? We were there almost every day.” She paused and thought for a moment. “Wait a sec, are you talking about the day that my friend Matt and his sister Rachael told me some crazy, ridiculous, half baked, hard to believe story about a silly mixed up kid Rachael called … Matilda?" Mary Beth giggled. I timidly nodded. "I haven't thought about that in ages. Let me think a minute ... you were wearing, umm ... you were wearing a purple vest and panty set under your clothes,” she said with a big smile. With some giggles she added, “You showed me the vest."
Shyly I nodded. "I remember how you hugged me. You said that you always knew there was something special about me."
"But that didn't mean I was in love with you."
"I know. I wasn't trying to say that you were. I’m only saying that that is when I realized I loved you, more than just as a friend."
"But I don't feel that way about you."
"I know that, too," I replied sadly, trying hard not to start crying again. "I'm just being honest with you; you know ... no secrets."
"Gee whiz, I feel like such a dork."
"Nonsense! You just didn't understand. I would have explained everything last night, or rather this morning; if I'd had the chance."
"You could've come into my room."
"No, that wouldn't have been right. The way you ran out told me you needed your space and time to think. For me to have gone into your room would have been ... an invasion of privacy. Besides, I don’t think you were in a listening mood.”
Mary Beth giggled a little, “You're right about that, I wasn’t in a listening mood last night. You could have come in this morning.”
“No, I, umm ... I had something else to take care of this morning," I replied softly. "So, when did you fall asleep?"
"About three, I think. You?"
"I don't know. I think the clock said four-thirty when I finally lay down. I didn't look after that."
About this time I realized how two-sided this conversation has been. I looked at Ellen, thinking. It took me a couple of seconds to remember the line. "You are an excellent tactician, captain."
Ellen raised both eyebrows at that. It took her several more seconds to place the reference. Eventually she came back with what I thought was a very appropriate response. "Careful Matilda, you wouldn't want anyone referring to you as 'Khan'."
"Who is Khan?" Mary Beth asked.
"Mary Beth, you're quoting Star Trek. That's incredible," I teased.
"I'm not quoting Star Trek. I just asked a simple question," she replied.
"But you are. That was -"
"Matilda, let's not go into that now," Ellen interrupted, before I could get started. "As for not getting involved in your discussion, it was going in what I considered to be the right direction. I'd have interceded if I felt it was necessary. You two just needed to sit down and talk things out."
"We've probably still got some talking to do," Mary Beth agreed.
"Without a doubt, my dear. Something I’d like to point out, in your favor; most study partners take months, a few have taken years, to get to the level of trust and understanding that you two share. You still have some growing to do, but I think the time you'll spend with us should be rewarding ... for both of you," Ellen praised.
As we were leaving I asked, "MayBee, where's your wheelchair?"
"Umm ... it's in my room," she sheepishly replied.
"I see. May I ask, who did you have put on your elastic bandages this morning?"
"Well ... I ..." she timidly started.
"You're not wearing your bandages," I answered my own question. To which she timidly nodded, looking very much like a small child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "What am I going to do with you?” I knew that was rhetorical question, but I had to ask anyway. “Well, I don't suppose Dr. Harris will be too upset, as long as you take it easy. Looking at the time, what do you say about indulging in a late lunch?"
"Sounds good to me, but no hugging, no holding hands, and NO kissing; after all, we're just friends."
"Just friends," I repeated, a little sadly.
During our exchange I was pretty sure I heard Ellen laughing to herself, as if she knew something we didn’t.
The rest of the day was uneventful. There was one thing that surprised me, but I guess it really shouldn't have. After we'd finished our nightly routine, and I was climbing into bed, I noticed Mary Beth was just sitting on the couch.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Matilda, I ... umm ... If you don't mind, I mean if it won't upset you too much ..."
'I know what you're trying to say my dear friend. The question I must ask myself is, how should I respond?'
I waited for her to continue.
"Matilda ... I'm ... I'm going to sleep in my room from now on."
I thought about what she'd said for a few moments before I responded, "Mary Beth, do you hate me?"
"Noooo. Course I don't hate you. It's just that-"
I interrupted her, before she had to try to justify her actions, "As long as I know you don't hate me, considering everything that I've done to us in the last few weeks, where you sleep is up to you. After all, this is a free country," I giggled. "If you feel like you need a hug, someone to talk to, or whatever, you know where to find me and remember, you're always welcome."
"I just don't want you to have any extra problems because I'm not here, like this morning."
"Oh ... You know about that? Listen, I was going to tell you about it, it just never seemed like the right time."
"Yes I know. The laundry called Ellen's office a little before you got there. I'm sorry. It was my fault, wasn't it?"
"No.” I paused a moment and took a deep breath, “And no secrets either. I was still upset this morning, but what happened wasn't your fault. I’m a big gir … well, I guess maybe I'm not such a big girl, but big enough to take a little responsibility for myself. Goodnight, MayBee," I smiled, reassuring her that everything would be all right.
"Goodnight, Munchkin," she replied with her own smile.
Nothing more was said. She got up and went through the door, into her room, closing it as she went. I was reaching for the switch on the reading light above my bed when I heard the interconnecting door open. Naturally my heart jumped at the thought of Mary Beth returning. I heard nothing more, saw nothing except ... Mary Beth left the door part way open.
With a smile, I turned off my light plunging the room into darkness, save for the crack of light sneaking around the partially opened bathroom door.
For the second time in almost five weeks, I was alone in my bed. It was a little lonely with only Nellie for company, at least this time I wasn't crying like a little girl. But I was.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 17
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
"Revenge is a dish best served cold.”
But, Justice doesn’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 17
It had been about five weeks that Mary Beth, Rachael, and I have been at this rather remarkable school, but it seems as if five months had passed. I finished my research concerning Bart and his family. Now I know more about them than anyone would ever want to know. It took us a while, but Mary Beth and I came up with what seemed like a good plan that should cover all the bases.
With the research done and a plan made, it was time for me to talk with Ellen. I knew she’d had something to do with rescuing the children from the estate in West Valley City, along with the arrest of those who were connected with the white van that came for me while I was at Whittier; I just wasn't sure how she had been involved. The way I had it figured, if she couldn't help with this, at least she could point me in the right direction.
'Now I know it’s possible to be both excited and scared at the same time. After all, I've spent all my free time for the last couple of weeks collecting information and devising a plan. I guess I've been obsessed with the idea of stopping Bart. I have to wonder, how much does Ellen know about what I've been doing? I mean, RJ knows about a lot of the information I've collected. I know that the staff get together in the evenings to discuss the students, I wonder how much he has told the others. It's odd that no one has said anything about what I've been doing or made any attempt to stop me. I wonder why? I guess I'll find out soon enough.'
"Come in," Ellen called out, when I knocked on her office door.
"Hello Matilda," Ellen greeted me with a smile, from behind her desk. "Please, have a seat."
Because she didn’t get up from behind her desk, I started thinking that perhaps I was in trouble for something ... again. I was about to sit in one of the chairs across from her, when I paused before I sat down.
Ellen interrupted me, before I sat down, "Oh Matilda, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. Please, have a seat on one of the couches. I'll join you in a moment."
‘All right! I'm not in trouble, that's a relief.’
I sat on the couch to the right of Ellen's chair and nervously waited as she finished what she was working on. Fortunately for my nerves, and to save a few of my fingernails, I didn't have to wait very long for Ellen to finish what she was working on.
“There we are, with that out of the way I can concentrate on what you want to talk about,” she said, as she joined me. I don't mean she sat in her chair; I mean she joined me ... on the couch.
'Oops, maybe I'm in trouble after all.'
"Well, Matilda, I was wondering when we'd be having this talk."
"What do you mean?"
"You've come to see how I’ve been doing, haven't you?"
"What?"
"You do want to know how my research is progressing, if I’ve found a way of stopping Bart, don't you?"
"Well, sort of. I mean I -"
"I've been expecting you to come see me for some time. I wish I had better news, but I haven't come up with very much useful information. Every avenue I went down ended with a brick wall. Once I mentioned the Roberts by name, every contact and source of information, I had, went silent. I couldn't even call in any favors on this one. It seems that every string I pulled broke. I'm hoping you've found something I couldn't."
‘Well, that confirms that she knows what I've been doing, at least part of it. I wish I’d been watching her, rather than my feet. I wonder if I can really get away with anything they don't know about. Wait, I did surprise everyone with the PA system, so maybe they don't know everything.'
"So, you know about the research I've been doing?"
"Some of it, I was a little confused, wondering what may have lead you in the direction you did. Why don't you tell me what you were thinking, and where you’re planning to go?"
"Well, mostly I've been thing about Bart, and how to put a stop to his reign of terror. After all, it’s one thing for him to pick on me, but what he did to Mary Beth was uncalled for. And what he did to Rachael ..." I paused for a moment to wipe my eyes; as I remembered the first time I saw Rachael in the school’s hospital. While fighting to keep control of my emotions, I continued, softly, "What ... what he did to Rachael was unforgivable. He cannot be allowed to go on abusing and attacking the other children. He must be punished for his crimes. His victims deserve to know that some justice has been done"
“Why is it one thing for him to pick on you, Matilda? Is it alright for him to hurt and humiliate you, but not others?”
‘Uh, oh. Maybe I am in trouble again.
“Well, um, no, I mean, I didn’t mean to say that I deserved to be beat up and humiliated. It’s just that ... well, I’m different, and bullies seem to be attracted to people who are different.”
“That’s very mature of you, Matilda. You are correct, just because someone is different doesn’t mean that they should be persecuted. Unfortunately, it does happen all too often.”
I nodded, confirming that I understood and agreed.
"But, yes, attacking an eight year old with a club is certainly unforgivable. Unfortunately, my research has indicated that his parents have far too many connections. I don't think there is anything we can do about Bart … legally …"
'Perhaps I should shock Ellen a bit, just for fun.’
"You're right about the legal system not being able to help us, that's why I think we'll need to take matters into our own hands. What I'd like to do, is for Mary Beth and I to suddenly appear on the school grounds at Whittier, Bart would be so surprised that a group of friends could surround him.
"A properly applied handkerchief, soaked with chloroform, and he'd be sleeping like a baby. We could take him to a secluded location where we would change Bart's clothes. After he's diapered and in a frilly, toddler style, dress, we'd give him a shot of something that would make him need to wear diapers for a long time. Then we load him into a van and have someone drive him to a sleazy little reform school I found in Kansas. For the right price they'd keep Bart in diapers, short frilly dresses, and they'll see that he has a different roommate every night, until he's twenty-one."
The look on Ellen's face could only be described as horrified. I'm sure she was shocked and amazed that I'd come up with such a dastardly plan.
Eventually Ellen found that her voice still worked, "Matilda, I ... We ... I don't ... you can't ... I mean ... we could never be involved with, or condone such a plan. I don't know-"
"But he deserves it! Someone that treats others the way he does should be locked away where they can't hurt anyone."
"I agree that Bart shouldn't be allowed to hurt others, but we can't take the law into your own hands. That would make us as bad as he is."
"But the law doesn't work in this case. You said so yourself 'there nothing we can do legally.' Did I misunderstand your words?"
Ellen sat quietly for a few seconds. It was obvious to me that I'd shocked her. She didn't know what to say. As she opened her mouth preparing to speak, I interrupted.
"Ellen, please forgive me. That was just my evil streak sneaking out again. I know that we could never do anything like that." The look on Ellen face was priceless. It was somewhere between horrified, shocked, and relieved. Slowly I continued to explain why I said what I did, "You have to understand, that as one of Bart's victims, and knowing over a dozen of his other victims, including MayBee and Rachael, it's what we'd like to see happen."
Ellen looked somewhat relieved, but still apprehensive. "So that isn't the plan you want to propose?"
"No," I replied sadly. Part of me was sad that Bart won't get a taste of his own medicine, but on the other hand ..., "Like I said, it's what my evil side would like to see happen. However, after RJ and I talked about not using my talents for personal reasons, and the difference between justice and revenge, I did some more thinking. Then MayBee and I talked about it for a long time before we agreed that it wouldn't be the right thing to do with Bart. I came to realize that what my evil side would want is revenge, not justice. Besides, I don't think I would be happy with myself if we did that. Perhaps for a moment, maybe, but not really."
"And what about the school in Kansas? Was that part of your evil fantasy?"
"Actually no, that’s not a fantasy. I did find a place that would do just what I described. I found it before I talked with RJ and MayBee. Now I didn't exactly promise RJ that I wouldn't use my skills for personal reasons, I just told him I think about it and talk with MayBee."
"And have you?"
"Which? Talked about it or thought about it?"
"Yes."
"Well, I have thought about it. That's when I realized that what I wanted was revenge, not justice. MayBee and I really haven't talked about how and when I should exercise my nimble fingers."
"I guess that's a start. Shall we get back to what you think we can do to see that a little justice is done?"
Slipping back into the real world and ignoring my evil streak I continued, "Okay. I still have to agree with you, as long is Bart hiding behind his father's protective coat tails, and the witness protection program, there's nothing anyone can do. Therefore, I think we'll have to attack both problems at the same time."
"So what are you suggesting we do, and what did you mean when you said witness protection program?"
Temporarily ignoring the second half of Ellen's question, I continued, "As you said in the beginning, there is nothing the legal system can do with Bart, right now. As long as his father is protecting him no, one can touch him. However, if Bart and his parents are separated, that is if they are separated electronically, we will have a very good chance of seeing justice done in both arenas. The way I see it, someone created new identities for them once before to hide them. I think it's time to change their names again; this time so they can pay for their crimes. I'm pretty sure that Bart's parents would know something is wrong pretty fast. Most people access their bank accounts one way or another every other day, but when their cell phones are turned off they'd notice right away. His parents would be so preoccupied in unraveling their own problems they’ll probably overlook the fact that Bart was missing, at least for a few days. That would give us time to set a trap for Bart. When I'm finished there won't be any trail to follow, no clues left behind, no electronic records, no evidence to lead anyone to Bart, or back to us. All his parents will have left of Bart will be memories of their evil child. Of course, they'll be so busy with their own legal battles; they won't have much time to worry about him."
"Matilda, have you been sneaking into the year G political science classes?"
"No! Why would you think that?"
"Because you been talking a lot, but you haven't said anything," giggled Ellen.
We both laughed for a little while, before I responded, "All right Ellen, from the beginning, I can change all of the electronic record systems, birth certificates, social security, bank records, and credit cards, to give Bart's parents new names. Then the local authorities can deal with them. As for Bart, I'll make him an orphan. While his parents are scrambling to figure out what happened; Mary Beth and I, along with beta team can go after Bart-”
"Matilda, how do you know about beta team?"
‘Well, obviously they aren't keeping as close an eye on me as I thought they were. I guess RJ was right when he said he can't track my activities. I wonder how much I should tell Ellen? According to Mr. Peterson, she doesn't know about Joshua, but she does seem to know about everything else. I wonder how much trouble I'll be in if I do tell her everything I know, versus how much trouble I will be in if I don't?’
"Ellen, I'm not sure how much I can tell you."
"Matilda, I expect you to start at the beginning, I expect you to tell me the truth, and when you come to the end ... stop" Ellen replied sternly.
"Oh well," I sighed. Spreading my arms, I looked up towards the heavens and offered the challenge, “Here I am, Mr. Trouble. Come and get me." I took a deep breath, turned back to Ellen and continued. "Yes, I know about the Beta team. I also know who the members of the team are. I know about the extra training and information they receive before each field trip. I know that you're the psychiatrist for everyone on beta team. I know about the alpha team, that is their names, but not their faces. I also know about their recent activities. I know about Hayfield Hall, in England. I know that Hayfield is a smaller school than the Manor. I know about their Alpha and Beta teams and the names of the beta team members. I know that where we have a choir and orchestra, Hayfield only has an orchestra. I remember you mentioned someone named Katherine after I took the tests, before I was admitted here. I know that she’s your counterpart at Hayfield. I know about a school in Canada named Wardenclyffe, not to mention their alpha and beta teams. I know that their field trips are centered around theatrical performances of various styles. I found references to some other schools, but I couldn't tell if they are directly connected or not. I know that Mr. Peterson is being replaced. By the way, does he know yet?"
"No he doesn't, and you shouldn't know either, unless ..."
"Unless what?"
"Never mind; please continue."
'Oh shoot, that came from Joshua. Her reaction isn't what I would have expected, though. It's like she knows about Joshua ... I wonder. Oh well, this isn't the time.'
"Anyway, I also know that the choir's concerts are a cover, and the reason for the field trips is so the alpha team can collect information for the S.P.A. Obviously that means I know about the S.P.A. I know about the underground facilities here and in the valley to the north. I know that the S. P. A. has a safe house in whatever large city is near one of their schools. Lastly I know that ..." I took another deep breath, or was it a sigh? I shook my head as I finished, "... I'm probably in a lot of trouble ... again."
Ellen waited for more than a few seconds before she responded. I felt like a condemned girl on her back, for over an hour, looking up at the executioner, waiting for the blade to fall. "Well, as to the question of you being in trouble, that remains to be determined."
'I knew this was too good to be true.'
"I know you haven't been completely honest with me, but we'll discuss that another time," she continued.
'She's right about that, but how does she know? I wonder if she knows more than Mr. Peterson thinks she does. Could she be part of the ...'
"Yes Matilda, I did know about your research before you walked in here, at least part of it. That’s why I was so surprised by your first recommendation. I’m curious about the extent of your information, how you obtained it, and how you intend to use the information now that you have it."
Ellen must have read the bewilderment on my face as she started laughing.
A few moments later, still giggling, she asked, "Would you please show me the information you've collected? Then we'll discuss what you plan to do. I'm not sure I understand why you think that you and Mary Beth should be involved. Also, I don't like the idea of faking records and taking Bart from his parents; that’s not something we like to see happen."
I looked up at Ellen with surprise.
"What?" she asked.
“But … you have the no contact rule which keeps us away from our families, even though my mom works here. How is that different from taking someone like Bart away from his parents?”
Ellen obviously got the connection as she sat up straight and glared down at me. "Another time perhaps, for now let’s stick to discussing Bart."
'It's a good thing I've kept the some of my research on my PDA; at least Ellen won't see me access the files I stored on Joshua.'
I started by going over the public information, school and hospital records, the stuff that would normally be found by the casual onlooker.
"That's exactly what I'd found during my initial investigation, leaving us with no avenue of recourse to pursue," Ellen commented.
'I thought Ellen's research skills were better than that. I wonder if she's hiding things from me or testing me. Could be either one, after all I'm not supposed to know everything I know.'
I went on to explain how the statistical information I'd collected, didn't agree with the creation dates on the files. After that explanation, I showed Ellen some of the bank information. After Ellen had digested the preliminaries, I offered her my speculation that Roberts were the recipients of special allowances from the local authorities.
"Matilda, I'll admit that everything you've shown me indicates that the Roberts are living under assumed identities. I haven't seen anything that would lead me to believe that the local authorities would ignore a reign of terror running through the valley?"
Reluctantly, I accessed my directory on Joshua. I showed Ellen the records from the Salt Lake City Police department, the Salt Lake County District Attorney's Office, and the Country Sheriff's Office. All of which clearly indicated that whatever the Roberts did, everyone who should have been protecting the community had been told to look the other way.
"I don't believe it, not around here. I've known the District Attorney for a number of years. He's always impressed me as an honest man who sincerely cares about people he serves and seeing that justice is done."
"I don't know about the District Attorney himself, but according to computer records, his office hasn't acted on a single complaint against the Roberts. I found the same thing with every law enforcement agency in the area. Like you, I thought that it was more than just a little strange, there had to be a reason for it. The only explanation I could come up with was that the Roberts are being protected by someone. After eliminating several possibilities, I thought of the Federal Witness Protection Program. This meant I had more work to do; I still needed proof. If I was right the best place to find the proof I needed was the computers at the US Marshal's-"
"MATILDA, you didn't?" Ellen interrupted.
"Ooookayyyy ... I didn't."
"MATILDA!"
"What?"
"Did you, or did you not, hack your way into the network at the US Marshal's office?"
"Well ... Which way will I be in the most trouble?"
"You'll be in trouble if you don't tell me the truth," she scolded.
"From down here, it looks like I'm going to be in trouble either way," I mumbled. Hesitantly, I looked up. Ellen was waiting for an answer. "Oh, all right, yes I did! But it was the only way to find out if the Roberts were under their protection, and it was the only reason I could come up with that would explain why they got away with everything they did," I blurted out, defending my actions.
"Does RJ know what you've been doing?"
"Well, I talked with him a few days ago, but that was before I dug into the US Marshal's system. ... He just didn't seem to understand what I was showing him."
"Matilda, you're wrong about RJ. He understood everything you showed him and knew what you were implying. Why do you think he told you what information you needed to prove your theory?"
"He told you I talked with him?"
"He didn't give me all the details, but we have discussed it. He is disappointed that you don't feel like you can trust him."
"But ... He ... I mean, he didn't -"
"Perhaps you should reconsider your position regarding RJ."
"Are you telling me I should-?"
"I'm just saying ... you should think about it. Now then, what is it you think we can do about Bart and his parents? … And you still haven't convinced me that you and Mary Beth should be involved."
Slowly I went over the details of what I could do to distract Bart's parents. This would also give local law enforcement the opening they needed to take action against them. According to the data from the county District Attorneys office, both of Bart's parents have arrest warrants on hold for a number of minor crimes. They are also suspected to be involved with child slavery and in marketing of child pornography. I also informed Ellen that, according to the information I found at the US Marshal’s office, the US Department of Justice no longer needs Mr. Robert’s services, as a witness.
Then I explained the diversion I had in mind so the Beta Team could collect some incriminating evidence against Bart. I told Ellen everything we had planned for Bart. There would be enough evidence in place to get him convicted of at least some of his numerous crimes. We hoped we could use Ellen's contacts at the District Attorney’s office to recommend to the judge that Bart serve his time out of state, for two reasons. First, to help reduce the overcrowding in the local juvenile facilities, which are small. Second, to make it harder for anyone who might try to locate him. We found a lovely, privately run, youth detention center in the middle of the Nevada desert, white buildings, blazing sun, blistering sand, and no shade outside the buildings.
"That's some plan," Ellen conceded, once we'd finished. “First, I'd still like Bart to stay with his parents, as long as possible. Second, I know I don't like the idea of using you as bait. I'd hate to see anything happen to you."
"Well, I don't think keeping them together for a few extra days will make much difference. Bart's parents will be in the Salt Lake County jail, and Bart would be in one of the juvenile detention centers. Besides, I don't think the Utah Division of Corrections is set up for family oriented cells. Of course we could always go back to plan "B."
"You're right about the family jail cells," Ellen giggled. "Would you like to tell me what plan B is? That isn't your evil streak fantasy, is it?"
"Oh no, we started out looking for someone who had enough influence over Bart to get him to stop being the bully that he is. We sort of changed the plan after we had all the information about the Roberts."
"So who is this 'We' you keep referring and did you find anyone that could persuade Bart to stop his evil ways."
"The we is MayBee and me. The only Plan B we came up with would be to send word to the Delkor family in Philadelphia; they're still looking for an Aric Marsh. He was one of their accountants, until he embezzled twenty million dollars and disappeared, along with his ledgers. To keep from being wasted he made a deal with the US Attorney General and turned state’s evidence. According to the information I've gathered, Aric had a wife, Sylvia, and a son, Carson. It seems that Carson was kind of small for his age and would now be fourteen, instead of a large ten that they're passing Bart off as currently."
"And just what would happen if we sent word to Philadelphia?"
"Well ... the Roberts wouldn't be hurting anyone," I replied, light heartedly. "After all, it's kind of hard to do anything mean from the bottom of the ocean with your feet planted in concrete. Of course they wouldn't learn anything from it, well, not in this life."
"Exactly. Because everyone should have a chance to learn from their mistakes, I think we'll forget about plan B for now. If I remember correctly, in plan A Bart and his parents died in a plane crash in China two years ago, with someone else taking their place for the next two years."
"Yes, the plane crash was very tragic-"
"I can see how upset you are at the loss of your friend Bart," Ellen teased.
"Oh yes, I was devastated by the news. It took me an eternity to get over the loss."
"Zero point six five seconds?"
"At least." We both took a moment for giggling; as we reminisced over the reference to First Contact.
"I think I would also suggest we forget about plan A."
"What?" I sputtered. "You want to go back to the revenge plan?"
"No, of course not. I think we need to come up with a plan C. You see, your plan A has you changing files and records across most of the country so that one family took the place of another. Let alone the fact that everyone knows Bart and his parents by sight. There's no way for your plan to work."
Sadly I sank down into the couch. "So they're going to get away with everything they've done?" I mumbled.
"Not at all my dear. You have the right idea, you just need to go back a little further in time. I mean, you can't take someone who's been living in the same place for four years and change their identity halfway through that time. You have to go all the way back to the beginning."
"I'm not sure I understand what ... Oh, I get it. Go back to when the Witness Protection Program placed them in Salt Lake."
"Now you've got the idea. The only system you need to make changes to is the US Marshal's. So tell me, can you get back into those computers and change all the records that relate to the physical characteristics of the Marsh family? You know, physical descriptions, fingerprints, identifying marks, dental records, and DNA records, if there are any."
"Oh yes, I can get in. I've been into them more than once. So what you're suggesting is that we change things so it looks like the Witness Protection Program created new identities for the Marsh family. Only someone else stepped into that identity."
"That's it exactly. It would appear that someone killed the Marsh family and then took their place, after the Attorney General no longer needed them; the alternate identity having already been established. All we would need to do is get the local authorities to do an identity check. They'd find out that the Roberts aren't the people that were being protected and -"
"The rest, as they say, is history. And the Roberts, who have a long list of complaints against them, will get the privilege of spending lots of time at a state run institution of higher education, thinking about what went wrong. I like it, there are a lot less records to be changed, fewer chances for mistakes, and less of a chance that anything could tracked back to us."
"You seem to know a lot about how computers work for someone so young. I'll have to talk to RJ about his classes and what he's teaching."
"To be honest, and fair to RJ, I learned most of what I know before I came here."
"Really?"
"RJ showed more surprise than that, when I told him."
"Yes, well, I guess I had the chance to get over being surprised when RJ told me about your internet tutor several weeks ago. That doesn't explain his teaching you how to infiltrate secure systems, like the US Marshal's Office."
"RJ's just taught me how to not leave any traces when I go into a system. He didn't teach me how to, what did you call it, infiltrate?" Ellen nodded, and I continued, "Anyway, getting into a system is just something I ... well, I just kind of feel my way through."
“I see. Well now, with this new plan I don't see a need for you, Mary Beth, or the beta team to have any involvement. Wouldn't you agree?"
"No, I don't see that at all. Someone will have to tell the Roberts that they've lost their protected status."
"I think an anonymous letter will be enough for that, one to the Roberts and one to the DA's office."
"I agree that a letter to the DA's office will start the ball rolling on their end, so they could make the needed inquiries. I think we should give the DA a couple of days to work things out before Mary Beth and I tell the Roberts."
"You want to go head to head with Mister Roberts?" Ellen exclaimed, in shock. "Are you crazy?"
"I've been accused of many things; including being crazy, but this is not one of those times. I have no intention of being within five miles of Mr. Roberts, I plan on telling Bart. You see, if we send a letter to the Roberts, they would take their money and disappear overnight, never to be seen again. They can't know anything has changed until one of them does something to get noticed by the police. The way I figure it, Bart will become rather excited when I give him the good news, that he and his family aren't protected anymore. Beta team will have to be close by so they can video Bart throwing the first punch, along with the rest of the incident. The rest of the team will be responsible for keeping me alive and calling the police. That should be enough of a catalyst to get all the local agencies involved."
"You don't honestly expect me to approve of using you as bait, do you?"
"The real question is, do I like the idea of being a punching bag? Of course not, but someone has to tell them. I think of it as one last act of protection I can give my friends. Besides, I want to see the look on Bart's face when I tell him that one of his victims has arranged for his downfall and eventual punishment. That alone will be worth whatever happens to me."
Ellen thought long and hard before she responded, slowly shaking her head. "After a time you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting."
"It is not logical, but it is often true," I whispered, as I completed the quote.
"Very well," Ellen sighed, "I still don't believe you've completely proven why the Roberts have a free ride. Even the Witness Protection Program won't give them complete immunity.”
“I didn’t think so, but that’s all I’ve come up with, that and all the money they have. I think it started with the Witness Protection Program. Then I think they used their money to buy someone very high up. I just haven’t been able to prove that part.”
“A good possibility, in any event, you’ve given me more avenues of research to pursue. Let's call the plan that we've came up with a preliminary and I'll add my recommendation. We'll need to discuss this some more, after I do some additional research. Tell me Matilda, do you think you can repeat everything we've just come up with?"
"Yes, but why?"
"Very simply, I can't approve this kind of operation. It's true I have a lot of influence around here, it just doesn't go quite that far."
"Sooo, who do I need to talk with and how hard is it going to be to talk them into giving their approval?"
"You're going to have to present your proposal to two people, Mr. Peterson-"
"That's it; I might as well forget it and give up now. There's no way I'll convince Mr. Peterson," I interrupted, shaking my head. "A snowball on the sidewalk in Phoenix has better odds than I have. He's still mad at me because I couldn't keep his secrets, and had to tell MayBee about Jooo ho, ho, ho, ... um, never mind."
'That was close; I'd better pay more attention to what my tongue is doing when my mouth is open.'
Ellen gave me the strangest look, before she continued. It was as if she knew what I almost said and was surprised that I stopped myself. "Nonsense, what makes you think Mr. Peterson is mad at you?"
"Oh, just the way he looks at me in the mornings, at breakfast. Maybe I should have Jenny hold his hand while he's looking at me," I giggled. "I'll bet that would give her with some interesting emotions to read."
"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary. He's just got a lot on his mind. Someone else has made a request for some students to assist with a problem outside the school. Making that decision is causing him a lot of stress."
"You said I'd need to talk to two people, who's the second one?"
"He's the one that would ultimately make the decision to approve or deny your request-"
"Ellen, you're not building my confidence," I mumbled. "Will you go with me?"
"Sorry, this is something you'll have to do on your own. However, from past experience, I think you have a very good chance of winning them over. Just remember to smile, and be yourself."
"Smile and be myself? Oh thanks a lot. … That's a big help," I muttered sarcastically.
Ellen was chuckling as she called Mr. Peterson and set up an appointment for me to see him the next day.
I had a long talk with Mary Beth later that night explaining all the changes Ellen and I had made to the plan, and why.
"Matilda, didn't you tell me, that Mr. Peterson told you, that only four people know about this Joshua, computer, thing?"
"That's what he said; course counting you there's five."
"Right; but from your talk with Ellen and from the things you shouldn't have said, it sounds to me that she knows lots more than Mr. Peterson thinks she does."
"I've been thinking the same thing; the problem is I don't know how to find out for sure. I can't ask her straight out, I guess I'll have to try to do a little fishing."
"Fishing? You can't go fishing now, there's almost three feet of snow outside."
"Not that kind of fishing, silly. I mean fishing for information. By asking the right but seemingly innocent questions we can discover what we want to know."
"I get it; you want to get information from Ellen and Mr. Peterson without them knowing that's what you’re doing."
"Exactly, my dear Watson."
"Oh, so I'm Watson again, would that be Mary Beth Watson or Emma Watson? I guess that makes you Miss Matilda Holmes."
I had to stop giggling so I could reply, "Not quite, I would be The Munchkin Holmes and you would be my MayBee Watson."
We continued our friendly teasing for a while, before continuing our talk.
"So, what are you going to tell Mr. Peterson?"
"Just what Ellen and I talked about, I guess. I'll probably throw in a little more detail, but not much."
"Are you going to tell him he's going to be replaced?"
"Nooo ... I don't think so. Ellen did say he didn't know about it, and I really don't think it would be right for me to be the one to tell him he's being reassigned. You know who I need to talk with? RJ! That is, before I talk with Mr. Peterson. He's the only one that I know of that should have all the answers."
"Can you trust him?"
"You know, five days ago I'd have said no, but today ... today I'd have to say yes. At least, I trust him almost as much as I trust you." I took Mary Beth's hand as I answered her last question.
"Are you trying to get mushy again?" she sarcastically asked.
"Not at all. I'm just telling you that I trust you and I'm emphasizing my point with a little tactile contact."
"Uh, uh. So answer me this, my little munchkin. Why are your eyes sparkling."
"I'm sorry," I apologized, letting go of her hand. "I always feel this way when I'm around you. The fact that you don't think of me the same way doesn't change how I feel."
"I know, I know, but don't get carried away," she commanded. I'm sure I looked like a sad puppy dog, as I looked into her eyes. "Oh, come on you nut, let’s say our prayers and get to bed. It sounds like you're in for another rough day, tomorrow."
"You're right about tomorrow. You want to come with me when I talk with RJ?"
"Umm ... sure, why not? Just don't ask me to go with you when you talk with Mr. Peterson, you're on your own there."
"Your kindness and support are overwhelming," I sarcastically teased.
"I know, I know. Being kind to everyone is a flaw in my character," she replied jokingly.
After some more joking and teasing we settled down, read our scriptures, and said our nightly prayers. After we were finished I crawled into my bed. Mary Beth, as she'd done for the last several nights, went into her room, leaving the door part way open. Try as I may, I couldn’t stop myself from shedding a few silent tears, each night as I was left alone. What made me wonder about Mary Beth and how she truly felt about me is that I’d hear the muffled sound of someone crying, coming from her room. I suppose I should have asked her about it, no secrets and all that, but I didn't. After all, I think I know how she feels; she just couldn't seem to admit it or understand it. Besides, I didn't want her to be embarrassed.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 18
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Do you?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 18
"Morning, RJ," I cheerfully proclaimed, as we entered the computer lab, the next morning.
"And a very good morning to you, Miss Matilda, and to you too Miss Mary Beth,” RJ jokingly teased by being uncharacteristically formal. “The two of you appear to be in exceptionally good spirits today."
"Okay RJ, what's going on?" I asked.
"Going on? I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he replied with a snicker.
"Yeah, going on. As in, why are you acting like the Maá®tre d' at the Marriot?"
"Well, it's unusual for both of you to come and visit me. And since you both seem to be in such a good mood, I figured the occasion called for something special.
"RJ, you're a little bit crazy, you know? That's probably why we get along so well," I said with a chuckle.
"Takes one to know one," Mary Beth teased.
I threw a 'watch it' smile at Mary Beth as I continued talking with RJ, "Besides, why shouldn't we be in a good mood? It's a beautiful day, the sky is clear, the sun is shining bright; so bright you can get a tan off the snow. There aren't any birds singing, but you can’t expect song-birds to be singing this time of year. And to top it off, Rusty says that we've almost caught up with the rest of the year in our French lessons," I replied cheerfully.
"And I should only need to use this wheelchair for one more week," Mary Beth added cheerfully.
"So tell me, my young friends, to what do I owe the pleasure of having both of you coming to visit me this morning?"
"We came to talk about some secrets," Mary Beth started, half whispering.
One of RJ's eyebrows went up about half an inch.
"More precisely, MayBee and I would like to talk about the Roberts’ family secrets. We also have some questions about a few of Immigration Manor's secrets," I added.
My last statement caused both of RJ's eyebrows to go halfway up his forehead. Mary Beth and I were both laughing at his shocked expression.
"Why RJ, what's the matter? Don't you like talking about secrets?" I asked teasingly.
It only took a moment for RJ to regain his normal, charming, personality. Thoughtfully stroking his beard, he countered, "I have no problem discussing school secrets with you, Matilda; you know most of them already. It's just that the last time you and I discussed such matters I clearly understood that Mary Beth would not be included in any such discussion."
"Oh my goodness RJ, that was days ago. Get with the program," Mary Beth teased.
"Anything I know, MayBee knows." I looked into Mary Beth's eyes and blinked. "Isn't that right?"
"You know it, girl."
"Am I to assume that Mr. Peterson approved of your telling Mary Beth about your little discovery?" RJ inquired.
"He didn't have a choice," Mary Beth replied with a snicker.
"What do you mean?"
"Matilda had some sort of nervous breakdown, or something," Mary Beth blurted out.
"A what? When did this happen?"
"Monday evening before choir practice," she answered for me.
"Matilda, would YOU please explain?" RJ demand.
"Monday I had what Ellen called an obi ... obtu ... no, an obsess ... oh forget it, I had some kind of mental fit, because I had people telling me to do things that contradicted each other. Ellen told me that there were to be no secrets between study partners. I've never been good at telling lies anyway, so I figured not telling lies or keeping secrets would be a good thing. Then I discovered Joshua; that’s when my life was turned upside down. Mr. Peterson told me I would have to keep Joshua a secret from everyone, including MayBee. That was the first secret I had to hide. The problem was, I'd already told her about the no contact rule which I'd found on Joshua. So I had to lie about that, by telling her I found it someplace else. To top it off, Joshua keeps sending me things."
"Joshua does what? What sort of things?"
"Several times a week, I have random displays appearing on my PDA screen, sometimes a Tic - Tack - Toe layout, sometimes a chess board appears. I’ve even had some combat game sequences show up from time to time. I've mentioned it before; you said it was probably just another student playing games with me. When I tracked the data back to its source, I found they were coming from Joshua. I'm curious, who did the original programming of that computer, and why would someone give a computer system that kind of name, and a personality?"
"As far as I know, the system has always had that name, instead of any other designation. All I know about the system's origin is that it was obtained through some dealer in surplus military equipment."
"Humm, well it's a very strange system, different from anything I’ve seen before. Well, getting back to my little problem, one secret led to another, and another, and so on. Then there were lies to cover the secrets, one little lie for this secret, two lies for that secret. I was going crazy trying to keep track of who I'd told what. Monday night everything fell apart and I had a ... there's those words again. The best way for me to describe it, is to say my mind collapsed in on itself, Ellen called it something psychiatric. After Ellen brought me back from where I disappeared, we had a long talk. Boy was she mad when she found out it was Mr. Peterson who’d told me to keep things from MayBee. She called and insisted on seeing him right then. Ellen had me wait in the hall outside Mr. Peterson's office for a while so they could talk alone for a few minutes. I don't know what was said before Ellen let me into the office, but I don't think either of them were happy about it."
"I'll bet they weren't happy. I've never known Ellen to lose her cool, but I bet she came close to it then," RJ seemed almost amused.
"RJ, speaking of Ellen," I thought now was a good time to change the subject, anything to get away from talking about me. "She and I were talking yesterday and she said some things that were confusing and made me start to wonder. Umm, does Ellen know about Joshua?"
RJ was quiet for a while, he appeared to be studying me or possibly going over the consequences of answering my question, before slowly answering, "Yeeees."
"But Mr. Peterson doesn't know that Ellen knows, is that right?" Mary Beth asked.
RJ again hesitated before answering, "I believe that's correct."
"RJ, is Ellen Mr. Peterson's boss?"
"No. Why would you think that?"
"From the way she got upset about him telling me to keep secrets from MayBee, the way she insisted that I not keep secrets, and I'm guessing she told him off."
"This time your speculation is, I'm afraid, way off base. Ellen was upset because he broke the rules. Telling you to keep things from Mary Beth is, very much, against school policy, which he knew. Not to mention the fact that you were hurt because of his request. When it comes to the safety of the students, Ellen doesn't back down to anyone. If she thought I'd done something that would endanger a student, in any way, she'd be in here so fast your hair would be flying in the breeze. Now then, do you have any other questions?"
I thought for a moment before asking, "How many students know about Joshua?"
"Matilda, I can't give you that kind of information."
"Oh, I'm not asking who they are, just how many?"
"I'm still not sure you need to know. That kind of information is on a need to know basis and I don't think you need to know."
"RJ, you might as well tell her. If you don't, she'll just do a lot more digging and figure it out by herself," Mary Beth told him.
RJ looked from Mary Beth, to me, to Mary Beth, and back to me before shaking his head, throwing his hands in the air, and in desperation asking, "What am I going to do with you two?"
I giggled for a moment before I replied with my standard answer to that question, "A hug works."
RJ declined, and Mary Beth was still shying away from psychical contact, so alas, there were no hugs to be shared that day, and no answers.
Then it was down to business; after we went through all the data I'd collected, Mary Beth and I explained the plan Ellen and I'd come up with. In the end RJ agreed that my speculation was justified, the data was complete, and corroborated my hypothesis. He had some concerns with our plan, but the three of us worked them out to everyone’s satisfaction. With RJ's recommendations and approval I was ready to talk with Mr. Peterson.
You know, there's a funny thing that happens to your knees when you're nervous, I know because I’ve experienced it. After lunch I left Mary Beth in the capable hands of the Black Sheep as I headed off to see Mr. Peterson. Suddenly my mind started going very fast, in all different directions, each on a different possible reaction that Mr. Peterson could have, or objection he could raise. My mind raced through solutions faster than I'd thought possible. The more solutions I came up with, the more nervous I became; thinking I’d missed a possible objection. And of course, along with being nervous, my knees started turning into rubber.
Somehow I arrived at Mr. Peterson's office and to my surprise, I was a few minutes early. Knocking on the door, I received an invitation to enter. Opening the door, I became instantly terrified.
The office was dark, with the exception of one very small table lamp. It was on the table next to one of the couches. Mr. Peterson was illuminated by the small lamp, leisurely reclining on the couch that was against the wall.
"Welcome, Matilda, please come in, have a seat," he greeted, indicating I should sit on the couch opposite him, which would leave my back towards the darkened room.
Slowly I entered and closed the door. Even though I was wearing a wig, every hair on my head was standing on end. I sensed there was someone else in the room. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. As my survival skills had kicked in, I scanned the room. I discovered why my senses were tingling; there was someone sitting in the high back chair behind Mr. Peterson's desk, trying not to be noticed; darkened room, dark clothing, in a dark chair. I guess they didn’t know that with a single light source in the room there would be a reflection off their eyes.
I guess I was taking too long because Mr. Peterson asked a second time, "Please join me, Matilda."
I almost didn't hear him, my self-preservation klaxon was so loud it was almost deafening. It took all the willpower I had to fight the overwhelming urge I had to touch the button that would turn on the overhead lights. With slow deliberate movements I made my way across to the indicated couch. I was so nervous, I'm sure I forgot to sweep my skirt as I sat down.
"Well Matilda, I understand there's a situation back home you want to discuss, along with a possible solution."
I was very nervous, talking with Mr. Peterson while there was someone hiding in the shadows. "I, I guess you're r … referring to my t … talk with Ellen ... yesterday."
"Yes, Ellen told me some of your feelings concerning your friends, from your previous school. She didn't go into much detail, as she felt you would be more eloquent."
"More what?" I asked. I wasn't thinking clearly, my mind was trying to overcome my urge to hide.
"Eloquent. You would be able to better describe the situation, having firsthand experience."
"Oh, I guess so ... maybe," I nervously replied.
"Please relax, Matilda. I’m not going to bite you. Why don't you start by telling me about this boy you call Black Bart? As I understand it, he's the one that beat up both Mary Beth and your sister, Rachael."
"That's correct. But they aren't the only kids he's attacked. . . ."
I spent about thirty or forty minutes describing the numerous times that Bart, or his one of his henchmen, attacked the kids at Whittier Elementary. Naturally, that led to a discussion as to why I felt that nothing was being done by the local authorities. By then I was much more relaxed, or it could that have been I was so involved in the discussion that I forgot about the mysterious person hiding in the shadows? It was after Mr. Peterson asked about the lack of intervention by the local authorities, that I got out my PDA. Perhaps I was showing off a bit. Instead of either of us moving, I sent the information I wanted Mr. Peterson to review, directly to his PDA. He was slightly alarmed when his PDA's screen returned to full intensity and the first screen of data appeared. I ignored his surprise and directed his attention to the items of interest. So it went for the next half hour or so. I produced one document after another, as I directed the conversation.
I finally finished laying out all the details of the Roberts family inhuman treatment of their fellow man, followed by the describing the plan that Ellen, RJ, Mary Beth and I came up with, as our recommendation of how justice might be served.
It was then that the man from the shadows behind me spoke for the first time. He possessed a very deep commanding voice, causing me to jump and flinch with each word. "That's a very elaborate plan you've proposed, Matilda. Now that you're not personally involved in the situation; that is, you’re no longer attending that school. Could you explain to me why should we be concerned with this Bart character, and why should we get involved?"
"Well ... because, Bart's hurting people, not just Rachael and Mary Beth and me, but lots of other kids as well. Bart seems to take pleasure in making others suffer. His parents don't do anything to stop him; I think they even encourage him. Nobody has done anything to stop him."
"So you're asking us to approve your plan, in order to stop Bart from hurting the other children, in and around your old school. Is that correct?"
"Well ... Yes! If I didn't think this was important, I wouldn't have spent so much time trying to find a way to stop him. ... Well, nobody should be allowed to hurt others ... it's not right. And ... if we don't try to stop them, we're just as bad as they are."
As he continued speaking, Mr. Mysterious came into view, sort of. "So if I understand you correctly, you're saying that if we know of someone who is causing pain and suffering, we have an obligation to try and stop them?" After he finished he sat on one of the wooden chairs, at the very edge of the pool of light, where he could see Mr. Peterson and me, but his face was still mostly hidden in the shadows.
'What? This conversation suddenly made a left turn somewhere. It's running in a completely different direction. I wonder what he's getting at, using the term pain and suffering.'
"I guess so ... I wasn't thinking in such general terms as-"
"And, if we know of someone who is planning to cause pain and suffering on a very large scale, we would be obligated to do whatever we could to stop them. Correct?"
'I think I'm in that tunnel again. The ground is shaking, there's a freight train coming around the corner and it's coming right at me.'
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Would you be willing to help us with such an endeavor?"
'Oh my gosh, how long he's going to drag this out? Maybe I should help speed things up a bit by ... Oh, why not?’
Changing from the timid Munchkin that I'd been, it was time to show the confidence I'd acquired, "Well, to answer your last question I'd like to ask a dozen questions, but I'll settle for two. What are you planning? And, how does it involve me?"
"Gregory is correct about you, you're quick, and you do tend to jump right in."
'I'm not quite sure that was a compliment.'
"Very well, Matilda, I'll get right to the point," Mr. Mysterious continued. "We've already approved your plan to take care of Bart and his parents. You've proven to us that without some intervention by an outside force, the local authorities won't be able to take any action. Unfortunately, the execution of your plan will have to wait until after the first of the year. There is something a little more important that we need to take care of first."
'Here it comes.'
"About six months ago, a French scientist contacted one of our people in Paris."
‘That confirms the reference to the school in France. It is part of the S. P. A.’
"Aren't you being just a little too free with your information?" Mr. Peterson asked.
"Gregory, you did tell me that this is the young lady who found what supposedly couldn't be found? I'm sure she knows about the S. P. A.-"
"-and a couple of other schools and the Alpha teams and so on and so on. So why is the S. P. A. interested in a French scientist?" I interrupted, probably giving out more information than I should have.
'For some reason this guy seem to be pulling Mr. Peterson's strings. I wonder how he's connected with the S. P. A. Better yet, could he be part of Alpha team? I wonder ... not sure but I think I'll keep these thoughts to myself, for now.'
The room was silent, save for the sounds made by the grandfather clock, in the corner.
"Get right to the point, is that it Matilda? Everything up front? All the cards on the table?" Mr. Mysterious asked in return.
‘Is this guy for real? What’s with all the old clichés?’ I replied by shrugging my shoulders.
“Very well, I’ll lay it out for you. He’s more than just a scientist. He’s a weapons designer. To be exact, he's a nuclear weapons designer. He’d rather be a former nuclear weapons designer, but the people he’s been working for won’t let him quit. He knows that if he were to contact the French government for help, they would put him to work for them; which means, he'd be doing the same job, only for a lot less money. For the same reason, he’s afraid of contacting any government. That’s why he contacted us. He feels we would be able to arrange for his retirement, without pressuring him to work for us, at least in his former field of employment.”
“I have three questions; why are you so willing to help him, how are you planning to get him out of France, and does he have a family?”
“Reasonable questions; first, you are correct, there is a small price for our services. You see, he’s designed a new style of nuclear detonators. With it you could create a nuclear bomb that would fit into an average size backpack. Several dozen of these are reportedly being sold on the black market. He has the information that will lead us from the seller, through the middlemen, to the buyers. With this information we hope to prevent them from being used. In answer to your third question, yes, he has a family; a wife and two children both girls, fifteen and eight. As for getting them out of France, we don’t have to worry about that problem. In just over three weeks time they will be vacationing in-“
“- in Quebec!” I interrupted, shaking my head.
“Correct,” Mr. Mysterious confirmed, after a few moments. "The problem we have, is that he won't allow us to arrange for his disappearance until we have confirmed that his children are safely away from the security team that's provided by his employer."
"Wait a second; this is getting just a little complicated. What kind of security team are we talking about? And just how do you plan to get their children away before-"
"Duplicates," he interrupted.
I thought about it for a moment. Suddenly I realized what he'd said. "And I look like the eight year-old?"
"You could be twins," Mr. Peterson answered. "Her name is Shantay."
"She wouldn't have a nickname, would she?" I asked. Putting together some of the puzzle pieces I'd gotten from Joshua.
"As a matter of fact, she does. It's-"
"Sally!" I again interrupted. "She wouldn't be fond of The Wizard of Oz would she?"
"Yes she is. Sally thinks she is a munchkin," Mr. Mysterious confessed. "You've obviously done some unauthorized reading. You wouldn't like to tell me what the plan is, would you?" He was starting to sound a little upset.
"I'm sorry."
"So, the plan is, you and another student will travel to Quebec one day before the rest of the school. We'll substitute the two of you for the two girls. Twenty-four hours later, the rest of the school will be attending the same costume ball as John-Paul, Suzette, and yourselves. You and your companion will change back into your Halloween costumes and rejoin the other students. When the girls are discovered missing, the authorities will naturally be notified. In the confusion, our team will sneak the parents from the company provided security team."
"That sounds pretty easy. I guess I can pretend to be an eight year-old girl for a day," I thought aloud.
"That's what I've been trying to tell Gregory," he replied. "A simple plan."
"Tell her the rest of the story," Mr. Peterson demanded. "That's what has me concerned."
"The rest?" I inquired
"Yes ... well, Sally has a few challenges. I guess the biggest one is that mentally she's only, umm ... two."
"TWO?" I exclaimed.
"Well, maybe two and a half."
"You want me to act like a BABY?"
"Yes … well, you'll have to act like Sally in order for this to work."
"So just how much like a baby is she?"
"Well ... Sally is pretty much out of control. She does whatever she wants and is known to throw tantrums when she doesn't get her way," Mr. Peterson added.
"Oh, this is getting better and better! Not only do you want me to act the part of an eight-year-old that is mentally only two, but I have to be a spoiled brat as well. Do you know for sure that this guy is worth all this trouble?"
"Yes Matilda. You may rest assured, the information we'll get in exchange for helping them, will prevent many thousand people from suffering the effects of a war, radiation, and a long lingering death," Mr. Mysterious said coldly.
"All right, I guess I can play along. Are there any videos of Sally that I can watch, so I can learn how she acts? I guess I'll have to be convincing. Who will know about the switch?" I asked.
"Only their parents will know about the switch. We've arranged for some of their home movies to be copied onto DVD's. They should have been delivered to your room by now. Study them well, you'll need to start practicing right after Thanksgiving."
"Practicing?"
"Yes, you'll have to act like Sally twenty-four hours a day, for the next three weeks. You have to convince the security team that you are Sally. They know the family well; they've been watching them for many years. The videos cover every aspect of Sally's life."
"Not quite!" Mr. Peterson complained, somewhat bitterly.
"What's missing?" I asked.
The room was unusually silent. Mr. Mysterious sat glaring at Mr. Peterson for the longest time.
Finally Mr. Peterson broke the silence, "Lloyd, you're not taking one of my students on this little snatch and grab of yours, unless she knows exactly what she's getting into and what's expected of her. Now are you going to tell her the rest of it, or do I have to?"
"Relax Gregory, I have every intention of giving Matilda all the intelligence we have on Sally. I was just trying to do it slowly; I didn't want to scare her off."
"Scare me off? What else is there? Sally doesn't have a habit of running around naked does she?" I jokingly asked.
"Oh no, nothing like that. She just has a little trouble ... holding her water. It’s really nothing to worry about," he replied.
"A little trouble? Nothing to worry about? Are you sure you don't want to sugarcoat it a little more?" Mr. Peterson exclaimed.
As they were going back and forth I was working out what Mr. Mysterious had said and why Mr. Peterson was upset. I decided he was actually trying to protect me. I jumped up, interrupting their verbal debate. Almost yelling, I demanded, "Let me see if I got this straight; you want me to act like a eight-year-old, who has the brains of a two-year-old, who's an out of control spoiled brat, thinks she's a munchkin, and ... WEARS DIAPERS?"
Mr. Mysterious looked at me as if I'd just made the dumbest statement in the world. "I believe that's what I've said. I don't see why you're yelling — Matilda - where are you -"
I didn't hear a word he said after he confirmed my suspicion. I turned and almost ran out of the office, slamming the door behind me.
Chapter 19
Preview
As the door of Mr. Peterson’s office slammed, I crossed the hall. With only the cold hard wall for support and comfort, it started, uncontrollably. I slowly sank to the floor, a sobbing mass in absolute misery.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 19
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
* * * * *
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"
* * * * *
'What happened to Ellen's clock? I know it should be ticking.'
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette McGregor and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Chapter 19
As the door of Mr. Peterson’s office slammed, I crossed the hall. With only the cold hard wall for support and comfort, the inevitable started. I slowly sank to the floor, an uncontrollable sobbing mass, in absolute misery.
‘How could he ask me that? Maybe he doesn’t know everything about me. Maybe he doesn't know about my problem. Maybe he doesn’t realize what I’ve been through. Maybe he doesn't care. Maybe ... Maybe ... Maybe — too many maybes. That’s it, I need MayBee.’
Getting out my PDA I sent a message to the two people I trusted most.
'I hope tears on these screens won't hurt anything.'
Need help!
Mr. Peterson’s office.
NOWMatilda
‘This is one decision I’m NOT making on my own.’
As I put away my PDA, the office door opened; it was Mr. Peterson.
“Matilda,” he said gently as he stooped down to my level. “I know that was a bit of a shock, but I couldn’t let him talk you into helping without knowing all the facts. You do understand, don’t you?”
I slowly nodded, as I wiped some tears on my sleeve.
He handed me a handkerchief before asking, “Do you think you could come back inside so we can finish our discussion?”
I looked at Mr. Peterson through teary eyes, shocked that he would even considering asking me to go back in there. After several moments, I shook my head. “N, No! - Not ... alone,” I managed to say.
At that moment, the elevator door opened and Mary Beth emerged, propelled rapidly by Jenny, Aaron, Misa, and Morgan. Even before they had come to a complete stop, Mary Beth was out of the wheelchair and on her knees next to me, holding my right hand and wiping my eyes. A moment later, Jenny was holding my left hand. The look on her face could be described as ... 'terrified'. I’m sure she got a lot more than she bargained for in those few seconds. At the time, I really didn’t care if she could read just my emotions, or everything in my mind.
Mary Beth appeared to have forgotten what had gone on between us the last few days, as she suddenly jumped back into her protective mode. Obviously forgetting herself, and who she was talking to, she turned and demanded, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"
Mr. Peterson was shocked and momentarily dumbfounded that a student would yell at him, let alone demand an account of his actions. Our four friends appeared to be equally stunned by Mary Beth's outburst. I, on the other hand ... I felt a warmth within me that helped me stop crying. The warmth that I knew stemmed from her love for me, even if she wasn't ready to admit it.
Before anyone else had a chance to say anything, I felt another pair of hands touch me. They caught me under my arms, lifted me off the floor, and held me tight. Only then did I notice a fragrance, something I hadn't smelt since I was five or six. I was overcome with emotions and feelings I'd almost forgotten. I looked up into the worried face of my mother and suddenly I was five years old again. Lovingly I called out, "Mommy," as I turned I threw my arms around her and started crying once again. However, these tears weren't because I was scared or afraid. These were tears of joy.
It seemed like hours that we held each other, but I'm sure it wasn't. Eventually I became aware of where I was and who I was with. I stopped crying and whispered in Mom's ear, "What are you doing here?"
"You called to me. I felt your soul cry out, begging to be rescued," came her gentle reply.
"But … We shouldn't be doing this,” I whispered into mom’s ear.
"Doing what? As a school counselor am I not supposed to offer comfort to students in distress?" she lovingly replied.
"Yes, but … well … all right, I shouldn't be hugging you like this."
"You're right about one thing, Matilda. This is more physical contact than I have with most of the other students," she admitted, as she lovingly set me down.
"Matilda, did I hear you call her ... 'Mommy'?" Misa asked me quietly.
"Mrs. Covington, what brings you into this wing?" Mr. Peterson asked, once the emotional scene was drawing to a close.
"As I said, a student was in distress. Apparently, Matilda sent a message to Ellen, requesting that she come here urgently. Ellen has someone in her office and couldn't leave. It seems I was the only member of the staff that was available to fill in for her on a moments notice."
"I see," he acknowledged Edith's response. "So it's safe to assume that Ellen will be joining us as soon as she's available?"
"That is her intention," Edith replied.
"And the rest of you," Mr. Peterson addressed Mary Beth and our other classmates. "I suppose you just happened to be here by chance."
"No sir," Mary Beth answered, somewhat defiantly, as she moved to stand protectively between Mr. Peterson and me. "I got a note from Matilda, too. It said she needed my help, NOW. Being that I can't run, they volunteered to assist with my transportation."
"Naturally," Mr. Peterson replied sarcastically. "Now then, if everyone is satisfied that Matilda hasn't been harmed; I'll assume you will all return to your various activities."
"I am not sure about anything, Mr. Peterson," Jenny proclaimed. "Matilda was extremely upset. She was so emotionally distressed that she felt the need to cry out for immediate assistance. It is true that she has stopped crying and has not suffered any physical injury. However, even though I am no longer touching her, I can tell that she is still very upset."
My beloved protector wasn't about to back down very easily, either. She joined in the questioning of Mr. Peterson's request for them to leave, "Exactly! When we got here Matilda was on the floor crying, with you hovering over her. She wouldn't have sent a note like that for no reason. I'm still waiting for an answer to my question; what did you do to her?"
Mr. Peterson appeared to be in shock. Before he or anyone else had a chance to say anything, Ellen arrived on the scene. "What on earth is going on here?" she asked, seeing the crowd that had gathered.
"I'm here because Matilda said she needed my help," Mary Beth announced, without taking her eyes off Mr. Peterson.
"We came to help Mary Beth," Aaron added, indicating himself and the other three.
"I know why the rest of you are here," Ellen admitted. "Edith, thank you for your fast response, but I'll take it from here."
"But, I thought ... No, of course not, you're right. I'm happy to help out any way I can. Ellen, could we chat later?" Mom asked with a smile. Before she turned to leave, she ruffled my hair just a bit and bid me so long, saying, "See you around, Munchkin."
"As for you four," Ellen continued, addressing Mary Beth's escort squad, "I think we'll be able to provide Mary Beth with her transportation needs. The four of you may return to whatever you were doing."
Our friends looked at each other, wondering what they'd done to be dismissed so abruptly. Mary Beth thanked them for helping her and promised she’d fill them later.
Once the crowd was down to four, Ellen, Mr. Peterson, Mary Beth and me, Ellen turned a little cold, asking, "The question I need an answer to is, why would our young friend feel the need to send out such an urgent cry for help? Matilda, if you're up to it, I'd like to discuss this in MY office."
"Ellen," Mr. Peterson interrupted, "if you don't mind, I'd like to continue the discussion, Matilda and I were having before, this impromptu gathering took place."
Ellen looked into Mr. Peterson's office and shook her head. "I see you and Lloyd have been playing your Phantom of the Opera game again. Did you even bother with proper introductions?"
Still hiding behind Mary Beth, I shook my head. Although it went unnoticed by Ellen, I'm sure Mr. Peterson didn't miss it.
It was Mr. Peterson's turn to look like he'd been caught raiding the cookie jar.
"I see," Ellen scoffed. "Any further discussion you wish to have with Matilda today will take place in MY office. That is where Matilda, Mary Beth, and I will be. You two are welcome to join us in thirty minutes. Come, ladies, we need to have a little chat."
Ellen then abruptly turned and started down the hall. Mr. Peterson was speechless. Mary Beth and I were momentarily dazed by Ellen's forcefulnes. However we recovered quickly, and were soon close on her heals, Mary Beth seated with me pushing, rapidly.
Once we were in her office, Ellen directed us to the large couch, where I was sandwiched between the two of them.
"Can you talk about it?" Ellen asked me.
"Talk about what?" I teasingly asked.
’I just love answering a question with a question.’
"Matilda," Ellen scowled, "I think you know very well what I'm referring to. Your note! ... The one requiring help ... 'NOW'!"
"Oh, that." Becoming serious I asked, "Ellen, do you know why the school's trip to Toronto was changed to include the detour to Quebec?"
Ellen was quiet for a moment before softly answering, "Yes."
"And you didn't think it was important enough to tell ME about it?"
"It wasn't my place to tell you about it. I was not the one making the request of you, that's Mr. Peterson's arena."
"A few days ago, you told me that I should trust you. How am I supposed to trust you when you carelessly throw me to the wolves?"
"Matilda?" Mary Beth exclaimed in surprise. "Ellen wouldn't do that, she does care about you."
"After the Nuclear bomb that was just dropped on me, I'm not so sure," I shot back.
Ellen's expression indicated she was truly shocked. "Matilda, I'm not sure what to say, or what was said. Please try to understand; they don't always give me all the details of their operations. They just expect me to pick up the pieces afterwards. As far as the visit to Quebec; all they told me is that they needed two girls to substitute for Jean-Paul and Suzette's daughters for a day, and that you could be a twin for the youngest girl. All they wanted to know from me was, could you handle acting as if you were eight years old. They didn’t give me anymore of the details. The question of, would it upset you or not, didn't seem to enter into their plans. As I said, they just expect me to fix things later."
I relaxed a bit after realizing that Ellen hadn’t set me up. "I guess Mr. Peterson grew some scruples somewhere along the line. He wouldn't let me agree until the other man gave me all the information."
"Judging from your request for help, it appears you were upset with their request?" Ellen surmised. "Do you think you can share with us what caused such a reaction?"
"I suppose. I guess I should start at the beginning," I replied sadly. Looking at my partner, I gave her a weak smile, "so you'll know what's going on."
I paused for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts and getting myself ready for what was to come. "It seems there's a scientist in France that designs nuclear weapons, Jean-Paul. He doesn't want to do that anymore, but the people he's been working for, won't let him quit. After discovering they existed and thinking that they'd be able to help him, he contacted the S. P. A."
"Why didn't he contact the French government?" Mary Beth asked.
"He didn't think they would help him, or his family," Ellen jumped in. "He figured that if the government could get him away from his current employer, they would just make him work for them -"
"That's what the man from the shadows told me," I interrupted, confirming I'd been given the same information. "That's why Jean-Paul decided to contact the S. P. A. The S. P. A. doesn't deal in arms, so they wouldn't want his services, at least not in that way. They do want some information from him so they can try to stop a war. The problem is, that Jean-Paul and his family are watched by a security team from the company. He and his wife won't make a move until they know their children are away and safe. That's where I come in; it seems I look like their younger girl, Sally. The man from the shadows wants me to replace Sally for a day.” Suddenly it occurred to me that I didn’t know who would be playing the part of Arabelle. “Do you know who they're planning to use for the older girl?"
"They didn't tell you?"
In reply, I shook my head.
She was silent for a few seconds before answering, "It’s Kimberley. Is that a problem?"
"No, no problem, I was just wondering. Anyway, Jean-Paul and his family will be vacationing in Quebec, which is why the school is going there. Remember the costume party that Mr. Peterson announced we would be attending? That’s where they plan to switch us back."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Mary Beth commented.
"No, not so bad ... not so bad at all," I sarcastically echoed, "that is until you know 'the rest of the story'. You see, for me to act like an eight-year-old would be easy. It’s acting like Sally that's going to be hard."
Both Ellen and Mary Beth gave me questioning looks.
After a few moments to consider how to say it, I began, "It seems that Sally isn't your typical eight-year-old, she's not even your typical two-year-old."
"What?" they asked together.
"Sally is physically eight years old, but her mind hasn't developed beyond that of a two-year-old. That's not to say, she isn't loved by her family, they give her everything she wants, indulged her every whim. Consequently, Sally is, and acts like, a very spoiled little girl. At some point in time, she saw and became completely infatuated with the 'Wizard of Oz' and the munchkins. Because the munchkins are small and because she's small, Sally thinks she IS a munchkin. Her parents have not only gone along with it, but they have actually encouraged her in her fantasy world. They redecorated Sally's room, their house, and their gardens, to look like Munchkin Land. They even plan their vacations around 'Wizard of Oz' conventions and parties. They've even gone so far as to dress Sally like a munchkin all the time. I'm guessing that isn't just to coddle her though, the big skirt of the munchkin costume, hides the fact ..." I paused again. Leaning forward I covered my face with my hands. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to finish the sentence, "... The skirts hide the fact that Sally has to wear diapers."
The room was deathly quiet for more than a few seconds.
'I wonder what Ellen did with her clock? It should have been ticking.'
Mary Beth broke the silence, after she put the pieces of the puzzle together, "That means you would have to wear -" By then I had started to cry. Mary Beth pulled me close, trying to comfort me. "Ellen, you have to stop them! Matilda can't do what they want. You remember what happened at the hospital? how upset she was then? Just thinking about wearing diapers has her in tears. As Matilda's study partner, don't I have some say in this?"
"Actually Mary Beth, I don't think there's anything you or I can do, outside of offering some advice and our opinions. There's a lot riding on the information they will get from Jean-Paul. I'm afraid that this decision lies solely with Matilda. If she decides to go along with their plan all we can do is, be there to support her."
"I don't think that's right, or fair," Mary Beth complained, still holding me, "asking her to do something like that. I think they should find another way to get what they want."
"But there isn't any time," I whispered meekly.
"Matilda! You aren't seriously considering going along with this, are you?" Mary Beth was scolding me, more than asking the question.
"I don't know!" I cried. Still encased in Mary Beth's protective arms I reached for the box of tissues that were always on Ellen's coffee table. To my surprise it wasn't there, causing me to pull away from Mary Beth to look for it.
"Looking for these?" Ellen handed me a new box with a smile.
"Thank you." Taking several, I wiped my eyes and blew half of my brains out. All right, I didn't blow my brains out, but it took a lot of blowing and wiping before the sludge running out of my nose came to a stop.
"Ellen's right," I told Mary Beth, after the tears had come to a stop. "In the end, it's my decision. I just couldn't make it without talking with both of you first. There are still a bunch of unanswered questions about the whole operation. I don't know if I can pull it off, without -"
At that moment there was a sharp knock on the door.
"It sounds like Mr. Peterson and company have arrived," Ellen announced, rising to open the door. Before opening the door, Ellen looked back, asking, “Are you ready to see them?”
I looked into Mary Beth's eyes as I was fighting off the urge to cry. "It'll be okay Munchkin. We've helped each other through some tough problems before, and together we'll make it through this one," she said softly.
I was hopping she might be saying something with her actions that someday I hoped to hear her say openly.
Even though my eyes were probably red and puffy, I guess they were sparkling again. "Don't get any funny ideas, Munchkin. Helping each other doesn't mean anything more than that. You're my best friend and my study partner, that's all."
I turned to Ellen and slowly nodded. Suddenly Mary Beth pulled me close, wrapping both arms around me as she hugged me tightly.
I was sitting back and wiping away some lingering tears, as Ellen, Mr. Peterson, and Mr. Mysterious, all sat down.
Mr. Peterson actually sounded concerned, "Matilda, I hope you're feeling better."
Still holding one of Mary Beth's hands, I nodded as forced myself to smile bravely at him.
"I'm sorry Matilda,” Mr. Peterson apologized. “I didn't think the thought of wearing diapers would bother you as much as it did. I guess I was right about making sure you had all the information, before you made a decision."
"Let's just say, I'm still working on getting all the information," I replied a little defiantly.
Both Mr. Peterson and Mr. Mysterious looked at each other and then back at me, surprise in their eyes.
"Before we go any further," Ellen interrupted, "I think we need to take care of some introductions. Matilda, Mary Beth, this is Mr. Lloyd Black."
A light suddenly came on in my head. I motioned for Mary Beth to lean down. "Alpha Team," I whispered.
"Is there a problem Matilda?" Mr. Black asked.
"Not at the moment, but we haven't finished yet," I replied. I could tell Mr. Black wasn't amused with my feeble attempt at humor.
"I guess we should finish our discussion and then see if you have any problems," he concluded. "Shall we begin where we left off, or rather, when you abruptly ran out of the room?"
"I'm sorry about that. You kind-of took me by surprise."
"That was apparent. What was it exactly that troubled you; having to act like a young child, wearing diapers, or is it ... being a girl in public?"
'So much for wondering if he knows who I really am. He obviously doesn't know that much about me. I'll guess no one told him about Mary Beth's birthday party, or shopping, or the other places I've been. I have to be a girl in public, because that's what I am. He seemed to enjoy dropping a bomb on me earlier; perhaps I can return the favor.'
"I think it was the shock of having to work out for myself what you were asking me to do, while you were tactfully trying to destroy some unsuspecting outgrowth of shrubbery. I thought it was agreed before we began, that we were going to be honest with each other. Something that I believe you may have forgotten," I reminded him. "Or was it simply that you didn't feel the necessity of being honest with someone as young as I am?" I asked, attempting to put him in his place.
One of the advantages of all the reading I’ve done over the years, and discussing them with mom, has given me a vocabulary well in advance of my years. I have such fun using those skills, from time to time. Especially, when it is least expected, by those who would take me for granted.
Ellen appeared to be trying to suppress a snicker. Mary Beth squeezed my hand, nodding and smiling. Mr. Peterson was almost successful in stifling his own chuckle. Mr. Black appeared to be in shock. I sat quietly, straight faced, as I watched and waited for the expected fallout.
After a little while, Ellen came to Mr. Black's rescue, breaking the silence. "Lloyd, I told you not to underestimate her. She may be small and frail in some areas, but once she gets her feet under her and she starts thinking offensively, instead of reacting defensively, she may be equal to some of our best graduates."
That's when Mr. Peterson lost it and started laughing.
"I guess that, well, perhaps we should start over," he finally conceded.
"Certainly. How do you do, Mr. Black, my name is Matilda. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"I wasn't thinking of going that far back, but it's nice to meet you Matilda," he replied, chuckling.
"And ... just how far back would you like to go? I believe the Halloween party was the first time I noticed you. You were in the Frankenstein costume I believe," I gently teased.
"You knew that was me -" Mr. Black stammered.
Interrupting once again, I clarified "I didn't know who you were; but that's just the first time I noticed you."
"How do you know that I was Frankenstein?" Mr. Black asked, his voice indicating that he was just a little upset.
I didn't feel like I wanted to give away all my secrets. Also, I didn't want Mr. Black to become too agitated. I'd had my fun and it was time to get down to business, "Your voice. You spoke to me several times that evening. You have a very distinctive voice, which I remembered. It was the same voice that had me on pins and needles, a little while ago, until I put the pieces together. I think I'm over that now. Shall we get back to your request for my help?"
"My voice, I guess I'll have to work on that some more. Now then, from the beginning --"
After we'd gone over all the details of Mr. Black's proposal it was time for questions and answers.
"You realize there are a few flaws in your plan," I announced. "One is, that I'll do almost anything to avoid wearing diapers. I'm not going to explain my reasons why, they aren’t important right now. The biggest problem I see with your plan is, if I agree, the first time someone changes a diaper, besides laughing themselves silly, they're going to know I'm not Sally."
"This is the first thing I thought of when this plan was brought to me," Mr. Peterson agreed.
"I too had some concerns along the same line, until we discovered something that would allow everything to work," Mr. Black confessed. "It was actually our first real break, not to mention the only way that this could work. You see, while the family is at home, in France, a company provided nanny looks after most of Sally's needs. Obviously this wouldn't work while they are at home. But, while the family is on vacation, Sally's mother and older sister take care of her. So the only people that could blow the whistle on this operation are part of the operation."
"It still doesn't mean I'm going to like it, " I sighed, taking a deep breath. "At least I shouldn't have to worry about having a crowd of spectators laughing," I mumbled softly.
"I'm sure Kimberley will be as discreet as possible," Mary Beth assured me.
"How did you know Kimberley would be replacing Arabelle?" Mr. Black asked, his tone indicating he was surprised.
"There you go, underestimating her again," Mr. Peterson remarked. Ellen, Mary Beth, and I sat quietly, smiling.
"Well, I guess how you found out doesn't matter at this moment, but I’d still like to know how or who. You are correct; Kimberley will be looking after you for the twenty-four hours. Do you have any other concerns we need to address?" Mr. Black inquired
"A few more questions. You said some DVD's of Sally are in my room and that I should start practicing her movements and mannerisms. Just how soon would you want me to start practicing and ... how completely?"'
"As soon as possible," Mr. Black replied. "But I'm not sure what you mean by 'how completely'?"
"What she wants to know is, when would you want her to start wearing the, umm, diapers?" Mary Beth volunteered, as I blushed, hung and shook my head.
"Oh. I suppose that's up to Matilda," Mr. Black answered.
A few moments later I lifted my head and asked, "I guess another thing I need to know is. Does Sally makes a fuss about being changed, or not? I know I won't feel comfortable about it. In fact, the idea of having anyone see that part of me, aside from my mother, terrifies me."
"Umm ... I don't know. I don't think we have any information with that much detail. I guess everyone just assumed that there isn’t, I mean she doesn’t," Mr. Black stammered, looking back and forth between Ellen and Mr. Peterson.
"Well somebody better start asking some questions," Mary Beth suggested. "If you want someone to scream, make a fuss, and attract some attention Matilda could probably handle that. If not ... well, we've got some work to do."
It was time for my eyes to grow three sizes, "What do you mean WE?"
"Getting you used to being diapered. After all, we're study partners, we do everything together. Besides, I'm the only other person that's seen you in your ... well, in that state of undress before."
"I don't care! You're NOT changing my diapers. Study partners are always supposed to have at least their underwear on, rule number one. They are never supposed to see each other naked.”
“Matilda?” Mary Beth quietly asked. “Did you say ‘My diapers’?”
I looked at her for a second before dropping my face into my hands, mumbling to myself, shaking my head. The room too was quiet, as everyone waited for me.
After a couple of minutes I looked up. Mary Beth told me later that I was as white as a ghost. "This is going to be hard ... very hard, but I'll do it."
"Thank you, Matilda." Mr. Black said.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Mary Beth asked.
"That's a stupid question. Of course I don't want to do it. But I have to do it," I replied shakily.
"Matilda," Ellen said calmly, putting an arm around me. "You don't have to do this. Don't let them make you think that this is the only way of getting the information they want."
"Just the easiest and most efficient way to get it," Mr. Black countered.
"Easiest for who?" Ellen snapped.
"Easiest for Jean-Paul's family and the S. P. A." Mr. Black countered sternly.
"I know what the S. P. A's motives are," Ellen spat back. "But right now Matilda is my concern. Look at her! She's terrified. By the time you leave, I'm afraid, she'll have lost her mind or -"
I reached out my hand, touching Ellen's knee, stopping her in mid-sentence. The room was deathly quiet; once again, as they waited for me. It was a few moments before I was able to put my feelings into words, almost in a whisper, "Ellen, I know you're trying to look out for me and protect me; thank you. Believe me, I wish they had come up with another way. But I think Mr. Black is right, this is the easiest way, at least for the girls. This is also going to be one of the hardest things I've ever done. It - it will help the most people. There's a big Black Bart, planning to hurt more people than I can count. I've never succeeded in standing up to my Bart before. It's time I stopped running and started helping."
Mary Beth threw her arms around me, "I’ll help you too."
"I know you will, MayBee … But you're still not changing my diapers." By this time, my mind had turned back on and I was thinking clearly. I think most of my color had come back.
"I guess we could get your mother -" Ellen started.
"No," I interrupted. "There's only one person for this unpleasant job, the one who will have to do it while we’re away, Kimberley."
"She's right again," Mr. Peterson said. "I wonder what Kimberley will say about a two or three day assignment, turning into a three week job?"
"Don't you mean a three week 'baby sitting' job." Mary Beth teased, still hugging me.
"I thought you were my friend," I shot back.
"You know I am. After all, 'Who else, but your bosom buddy would break down and tell you the truth'."
I looked into her smiling eyes, surprised by her remark. It took me a moment to make the connection. Smiling, I replied, "Thank you, Vera darling."
"Vera, who's Vera?" Mr. Black inquired.
Still looking into Mary Beth's eyes and still smiling, I replied, "Vera Charles, lifelong friend and confidant, of Miss Mame Dennis."
"Who!"
Giggling, I pulled back from Mary Beth, though still holding her hands, turned and look at Mr. Black, "You really need to get out more, 'Life's a banquet and most poor slobs are starving to death'."
This brought a round of laughter from Ellen, Mary Beth, and me.
After we'd quieted down, Mr. Black asked the question, "You seem to be feeling better; do you have any other concerns or questions?"
"I have a question, and a request; sort of payment for what I'm about to put myself through. I'd like to request that we make a stop in Chicago on our way home, from Toronto, and have a party for the school."
"What?" Mr. Black and Peterson chorused.
"And just where would that be?" Ellen asked, acting a little less surprised.
"There is a little store, where best friends find each other," I answered cryptically, while squeezing Mary Beth's hands.
Mary Beth gasped in surprise. "You don't mean?"
"Yes, I do mean."
I answered Mary Beth's question, with an explanation. "We both want to go there. I'm sure there are others in the school that would very much enjoy a lunch or dinner party. Not to mention, learning a little history while we're there. You have noticed the envious looks we get, when our little friends are out and about."
"History?" Mr. Peterson queried
"Just what are you talking about?" Mr. Black demanded.
Together, Mary Beth and I chorused, "AMERICAN GIRL PLACE!"
"Where?" both gentlemen asked.
"I'll explain it to you both, later. For what you're asking of Matilda, I don't think it's too much to ask," Ellen offered with a chuckle. "I don't know if it can be arranged, or how many of the students would like to attend, but I'll do my best to work it out. Now, what was the other question you wanted to ask?"
"What are you planning to tell the rest of the school?" I inquired.
"What do you mean? Tell the rest of the school, about what?" Mr. Black asked. He’s look that was a cross between shocked and concerned.
"Oh come now, Lloyd," Mr. Peterson chastised. "Matilda has become an almost overnight legend around here. I don't think there's one student here that doesn't know about her antics or heard about the ruckus, at the Halloween Party. Let’s not forget the choir rehearsal over the PA system. Speaking of that, Matilda, I'm still waiting for the written plan, for an approved broadcast. Anyway, it would be impossible for Matilda to make such a sudden change in character, without the whole school becoming alarmed by it."
"I really hadn't thought about that," Mr. Black confessed. "Does anyone have any ideas?"
The 'full grown' adults sat around with blank looks on their faces. At first, I didn't have any ideas either. So, I did what I always do when I'm trying to solve a mystery; I got up and started walking. It's a good thing that Ellen has a large office.
"Where's she going now?" Mr. Black asked, generally.
Making a sudden turn I circled around behind Ellen’s desk, it was obvious I wasn't leaving. Mr. Black then asked, "What's she doing?"
It was several seconds before I overheard Mary Beth whispering, with a little pride in her voice, "She's thinking! You've given her a problem to solve. It's best to leave her alone when she's like this."
I walked around the office for a few minutes, hearing some whispering from time to time. When I'd come up with what, I thought was a brilliant solution, I pulled out my PDA and did some fast checking, who was performing where, scheduling, room availability for four students. I climbed into Ellen's desk chair, as I worked out the details. When I was satisfied, I spun around several times, giggling.
'Who says a girl can't have a little fun now and then? I'm sure Sally would enjoy a spinning around.'
In my best Princess Leigh voice, I teased the two gentlemen, "What, you break in, but you don't have a plan for getting out?"
A moment later, while doing a very poor imitation of Han Solo, Mr. Peterson smiled and pointed at Mr. Black, "He's the brains, Sweetheart."
Mr. Black was obviously not into science fiction, as evident by his very eloquently reply, "What?"
Both Ellen and Mary Beth were amused with the scene and started giggling.
"So, what kind of harebrained idea have you come up with this time?" Mary Beth wished to know.
Spinning once more for fun, I stopped, facing away from everyone. "As I see it, there are at least three options. First, we can lie to everyone and have Ellen invent some psychiatric reason; probably involving a deep, dark, possibly sinister reason, that I've regressed to a two-year-old. More than likely, it would have something to do with my dad, Bart, or what happened in the white van."
"Matilda, have you remembered what happened to you?" Ellen asked. I could hear the concern in her voice.
"Nope, still a complete blank," I replied, somewhat thankfully, as I got up and walked around Ellen's desk.
"I see," Ellen acknowledged. "I don't like that plan. The other psychiatrists and counselors would see through it. For that to work they would all have to be in on the cover-up."
"Very true, we have an excellent staff here," Mr. Peterson commented.
“The more that know about this, the greater the risk of some information leaking out,” Mr. Black complained.
"So, you said three options?" Mary Beth asked, as I sat down next to her.
"One or two little ideas," I replied with a smile. I paused, waiting to see if anyone else had some ideas they wanted to throw out for consideration.
After several seconds of silence, Mr. Peterson complained, "Well, are you going to share them with the rest of us?"
"I don't know if you'll like this one, but there's a hypnotist doing a farewell performance Thanksgiving Day in Ogden."
"And that's relevant because?" Mr. Black questioned.
"Well ... I thought it would be fun to treat the school to dinner and the show," I replied.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Mr. Black exclaimed, almost yelling.
"Easy Lloyd, I'm sure there's more to it than that," Ellen cautioned. "Am I right, Matilda?"
"Naturally, somehow it would have to be arranged for me to be one of the volunteers from the audience. It wouldn't matter what I do, or don't do on stage. The only reason for going would be for an excuse. One or two days after being part of the hypnotist’s show, I’ll suddenly start acting like Sally. Of course, someone would call Ellen to find out what's wrong. You and Mary Beth, would bring me back here, supposedly to find out what's wrong. The official story would be that I’m suffering from a post hypnotic suggestion. I will have to be a little munchkin, until released by the Wizard of Oz. I’m assuming there will be a wizard at the costume party? I just hope whoever cleans the school, won't be too upset."
"What do you mean?" Mary Beth innocently asked.
With a sigh and shaking my head, "Because I'll go through several sets of clothes before someone comes up with the idea of ... umm, diapers."
"Oh ..."
“Of course, we’re still lying to everyone, and they would wonder why the school wouldn't try to find the hypnotist to undo it,” I concluded.
“And just what is your third option?” Ellen asked.
Looking directly at Mr. Black, I smiled as I answered. “Unless someone else has any better ideas, my only other idea is simple and easy, it doesn't involve going anywhere, or spending any money. It's a very simple plan that doesn’t require lying to anyone; we just tell everyone the truth ... the whole truth. Everyone will know what’s going on and why, they'll know why I'm acting funny, they would even be able to help me perfect Sally's character, and best of all, I won’t have to embarrass myself.”
'What happened to Ellen's clock? I know it should be ticking.'
“Where did you say the hypnotist was performing?” Mr. Black asked begrudgingly.
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 20
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
“How old are you, five or si - ix?"
There was a collected gasp from the audience, and I think I heard Ellen and perhaps Mr. Peterson call out my name.
"Ouch!"
"I'm ten!" I stated gruffly, as I withdrew my foot.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 20
By Penny Reed Cardon
D Day - Minus Eighteen:
'Oh shoot, I forgot to change my alarm. Oh well, I’m awake now. I might as well get showered and dressed. At least I don't have to worry about waking MayBee too early.'
"Morning Munchkin, Happy Thanksgiving," Mary Beth greeted as she came into my room sometime later, elastic bandages in hand.
"Happy Thanksgiving, MayBee."
"You're up kind of early. What are you working on?"
"I'm just reviewing the DVDs that were left for me. The way Mr. Peterson described her, Sally is supposed to be some kind of child-sized monster. So far, I haven't seen anything like that. She's more active, energetic and bouncy than I would have expected. Because of her size, she's harder to control than your average two-year-old, but not what I'd call a monster."
"Maybe Mr. Peterson doesn't have any kids," Mary Beth offered.
"I guess that's possible, but he should remember something about what it was like when he was a kid, shouldn't he?"
"Maybe … he never was one," she teased, resulting in a round of laughter from both of us. After we finished giggling and I'd wrapped Mary Beth's abdomen, she went to finish getting ready.
At our usual time, five minutes late, we met the rest of the year before going over for breakfast.
“Good morning, everyone,” Mary Beth called out cheerfully, as we entered the lounge.
“Morning,” was chorused back.
After we were settled, Jenny went over the day’s schedule; which didn’t take very long. We had about five minutes before we should leave for breakfast; that is if we wanted to be on time. That’s when Misa and Morgan came over to where we were sitting.
“Matilda, there’s something I’ve been waiting to ask you,” Misa started.
“Well, we’ve got a few minutes, what’s on your mind?” I asked.
“The other day, in the hall outside Mr. Peterson’s office, you called Mrs. Covington, Mommy. Is she your mother?”
‘There’s never a pin around when you need one. Oh well, with the carpet on the floor you wouldn’t hear it hit anyway.’
“Yes, Misa, Mrs. Covington is my mother, although it feels funny, me calling my own mother by her last name.”
“But your last name is McNeil, isn’t it?” asked Tony, the year’s legal expert.
“Actually … No,” I replied sadly. Everyone waited for me to continue.
‘Come on you guys, there’s nothing more interesting around here than me? We need to create more excitement around here!’
“Covington is my dad’s name.” I felt tears trying to break loose as I remembered back. I also felt Mary Beth’s arm wrap around my shoulder. “After what he did … well, after that night, I didn’t want his name any more. When I tried to … when I was being stupid and I wrote my … suicide note. I didn’t want his name, so I changed my name. When my mom figured out that I was … well … the way I am, she told me that I would have been named Matilda, if I’d been born a girl. For my middle and last names, those I took after the two people who loved me the most, my sister Rachael and mom. McNeil is mom’s maiden name. That’s how I came up with Matilda Rachael McNeil.”
“So that’s not your real name?” Wally asked sheepishly.
“Of course it is!” Jenny said emphatically.
“And when she’s eighteen we’ll process all the paperwork to make it legal,” Tony added.
“So, do you get to see your mom very much?” Niki asked almost jealously.
‘I couldn’t tell them that I’m not supposed to see her at all. That would start a new set of questions, most of which I can’t or don't want to answer. How to answer without telling a lie? Stupid, just tell the truth.’
“No, I don’t. You know how busy we’ve been, with learning French, double choir practices, working on the computer interface for Rachael, and everything else that’s been going on. Not to mention that Mom’s busy helping with the older students. In fact, the other day in the hall, is about the only time I’ve seen her since we came here.”
“Oh,” Niki replied, almost sadly.
I wasn’t sure if she was sad for me, or for herself. At the time it didn’t matter, I felt like she needed a hug, so did I. Just because we aren’t study partners doesn’t mean we can’t help each other. We hugged for a few moments before Aaron started coughing.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’re late for breakfast, again.”
“Yeah, if I don’t get some food soon, I’m going to shrivel up and blow away,” Howard complained.
“Oh, Howard, you’ll survive another ten minutes,” Vikk assured him, as everyone chuckled and headed for the door.
Being Thanksgiving morning, the normal breakfast selections weren't available. The only breakfast options were cold cereal, with milk or OJ, along with a selection of fresh fruit and muffins. I opted for some fruit and a muffin. Personally, I’ve never liked OJ on my cereal.
At the appointed hour of three PM, late for lunch, but early for dinner, the whole school lined up outside the cafeteria. The line moved rather slowly. The Thanksgiving buffet was just as Mr. Peterson had described. Several large banquet tables had been set up in the halls outside the dining room, with extra tables set up inside the dining room.
After Mary Beth and I filled our plates, we were walking towards a small gathering of Black Sheep, when I noticed a small table with only four seats; two of which were occupied by Kimberly and Angel. Being that there didn’t appear to be any organized pattern to where anyone was sitting, I surprised Mary Beth by stopping suddenly and asked, "Mind if we sit here?"
"I was hoping you would," Kimberley replied with a smile.
Once we were seated, Kimberley began what I thought was an unusual conversation, although not entirely unexpected, "Matilda, I understand you had a nice long talk with Mr. Peterson yesterday."
"With Mr. Peterson and assorted guests, is more like it. It was a lengthy visit, but I'm not sure I'd call it a nice talk," I corrected.
Kimberley and Angel seemed confused by my response. Kimberley shook it off and continued, "I don't know anything about the details, but I'm told you did agree to their request."
With a deep sigh I answered, "Yes … I guess I did. But is this something we should be talking about here?"
"What? Are you telling me that Mary Beth doesn't know?" Kimberley whispered.
"That's not what I'm saying, MayBee knows everything I know, as I'm sure Angel knows everything you've been told," I calmly replied.
"So what's the problem?"
"I was just thinking that there might be someone else concerned about us discussing this subject so openly. Perhaps there’s someone who wouldn’t want the whole school to know what we're talking about. This is, after all, a very public place."
Before anyone had a chance to respond Mr. Peterson stood up. "Welcome, one and all. Now that everyone is seated, I have a couple of announcements. First off, I was given a note from our kitchen staff. They wanted me to assure you, there's enough food for everyone to enjoy as much as you wish. Also, they'd be grateful if there were no leftovers. Being that this is one of the few days we allow you to, pig out, I believe is the expression; I suggest you take advantage of it.
"Second, as a reminder, next week all classes have been canceled, with the exception of choir, orchestra, and any other special classes. That's when we’ll convert our ballroom into our toy factory. As most of you remember, last year we had to quickly produce an additional quantity of toys at the last minute. To avoid a repeat of that this year and to assure that all the hospitalized children receive something special, it was felt that this year we should produce one-hundred-fifty of each item. However, according to our expert mathematicians, from year A, and being that we'll be out of the country when our gifts are being distributed; it was calculated that in order to prevent any shortages this year we should produce two-hundred of each of our special toys this year."
There were some scoffs and groans from a few of those assembled. This was mixed with just as many positive comments, reminding the 'moaners' who the gifts were for.
The room quickly came to order when Mr. Peterson raised his hands. "While I don't personally agree with the quantity of the recommendation, the rest of the organizing committee does. So two hundred of everything is what it will be. Next item. We're going to jump ahead of tradition by one day and our school Christmas tree will be going up this evening. For anyone wishing to help, or for those who want to just watch as the lights go on; you should be here at seven this evening.
“One last announcement, one of the school’s alumni has arranged for a special treat. Tomorrow, just after lunch, we will be boarding the busses and we’ll be going to a special, command performance by hypnotist Jens Mortensen. This will be his farewell performance, as he's retiring from show business. After our performance he'll be returning to his native country, Denmark, to spend time with his children, grandchildren, and do some teaching with the European Society of Hypnosis."
Mary Beth reached over and touched my hand, just to get my attention. She was confirming what we both knew.
"We'll be stopping for dinner along the way at a quaint little restaurant. It's kind of a small place and our little group will almost fill their establishment. I don't think I need to remind you how to act. Dinner and the show will be semi-formal, so please dress appropriately. Thank you all. Happy Thanksgiving and enjoy your meal."
Mary Beth said quietly, "I guess that means they don't want the whole school to know."
"It also means I'll have to embarrass myself," I moaned.
"What are you talking about?" Angel asked, in a whisper. "Why would you have to embarrass yourself?"
"I guess you two don't quite know everything about the operation we've been asked to help with. Can both of you come to my room after dinner for a private mission briefing?" I asked.
Kimberley sarcastically questioned me, "Mission briefing?"
"Sorry, too many Mission Impossible reruns."
"I think you're the one that's impossible," Angel snickered.
"Never under establishment the Munchkin." Mary Beth smiled. "She may be a little crazy, but she's almost always right."
"Never under establishment the Munchkin?” I repeated with a grimace. “Where on earth did that come from?"
"I just made it up," she beamed.
"You just made it up? Well un-make it. Good grief, that sounds really … corny," I moaned.
"It sounds to me as if someone is proud of you," Kimberley said.
"Or maybe in love," Angel whispered.
"Don't even think it," Mary Beth grumbled, looking at me accusingly.
"I didn't say anything," pleaded innocence.
"Well then figure out how to keep your eyes from sparkling!."
I was smiling as I shook my head and looked at my plate. Kimberley and Angel were giggling.
The rest of our time was filled with good conversation and good food, but without any more excitement or revelations.
A little while later, the four of us gathered in my room. Kimberley and Angel knew the basics of Mr. Black's plan; they just didn't know the details concerning Sally. So, I showed them the DVDs I'd been given. I then informed them that Mr. Black felt I needed to start practicing as soon as possible.
"Practicing?" Angel wondered. "What sort of practicing does he think you need?"
"Well … I guess I missed telling you the part about the security team that watches over the family. I have to convince them that I am Sally. If they aren't convinced or if they suspect something is wrong, we're busted."
"Hmm … I guess that means I have to be just as convincing as Arabelle. I'd better watch those DVDs a couple of times before we leave," Kimberley muttered.
"Oh, you'll get lots of time to practice before you leave, believe me. You're going to be taking care of the Munchkin for the next couple of weeks," Mary Beth volunteered.
"What are you talking about?" Angel asked.
"There's something that's not on the DVDs, Sally wears … " I started, then paused, unable to finish the sentence.
"Sally wears diapers," Mary Beth volunteered for me.
"Yeah, I knew that,” Kimberley said. “So for a day or two I play the big sister, what’s the big deal? ... Hold on a second. Are you saying that you have to practice every aspect of Sally's life for the next couple of weeks, including ... -?"
"That's right," Mary Beth interrupted. "For the next two weeks you've got an eight-year-old baby on your hands."
“Thanks, Vera,” I grumbled.
"Hold it right there! I signed up for a two day babysitting job, not a two week diaper pail ordeal."
"DO YOU THINK I LIKE THIS?" I yelled as I jumped to my feet. "I hate the thought of wearing diapers, of having someone, anyone, changing them. I don't want anyone to see me like that.” Mary Beth snaked her arms around my waist, pulling me back onto the bed. Just having her arm around me helped calm me down. “But, I said I'd help, and I never go back on my word. I just hope that in the time we have, I'll be comfortable enough with you changing my diapers, that I won't make a spectacle of myself or give us away."
"So what's with this hypnotist?" Angel asked, tactfully breaking the silence that had descended upon the room after my outburst and changing the subject at the same time. "They've never taken us to anything like that before."
"The Munchkin needs to be part of the hypnotist's act," Mary Beth volunteered, quietly. "So there'll be a reason for her acting like a baby. Mr. Black doesn't want to tell whole school about the S. P. A, so this is the cover story they came up with."
"How do know about Mr. Black and the S. P. A?” Kimberley asked, looking startled.
"Mr. Black is the one who asked Matilda to be Sally. As for knowing about the S. P. A. … blame her," Mary Beth answered, looking at me.
"You mean the hypnotist is going to put her into some kind of trance?" Angel wondered aloud.
"Not quite. It’s like Maybee said, that’s just a story to explain why I'll be acting like Sally. I think it will actually go something like; ' … that because of what we believe to be an improperly spoken command, Matilda believes she has been cursed by a Wicked Witch. All of our attempts to bring Matilda out of this have failed and we haven't been able to locate Mr. Mortensen. According to the curse she will act in all ways, as if she were a baby Munchkin of about two years of age. Unfortunately, she will remain this way until she's released from the curse by the Wizard of Oz. Fortunately the costume party in Quebec is a Wizard of Oz party, and there should be at least one Wizard in attendance’.”
I let them think about that for a moment before I continued. “When we’re at the hypnotist show, and they ask for volunteers from the audience, you need to get a bunch of students to start chanting Munchkin, Munchkin. Then I'll have to go up. After I've been acting like Sally for a while, they will ask for volunteers to assist with my long term care, and day to day needs. Of course, the two of you will volunteer to take care of me. The four of us will be moved to the big four-room suite on the top floor of the administration building."
"I didn't know there's a four room suite up there.” Angel commented. “Matilda, what else do you know about this school?"
"Believe me, more than I should. And, being that you aren't my study partner, I'm not telling you anything I don’t have to."
"Look, we've been at this for a couple of hours now," Kimberley interrupted, before any other questions could be raised. "I think it's time to call it quits for today. They'll be putting lights on the tree in about an hour. Are you two going?"
Mary Beth suggested, "We should see what the rest of the Black Sheep are planning."
“Have they talked about forming any traditions yet?” Angel inquired.
“We’ve talked about Christmas traditions a little bit. Mostly we’ve talked about the traditions we have at home. I mean, before coming here,” Mary Beth said with a sigh.
I knew she was feeling a little homesick again; her family had lots of Christmas traditions. I tried to pull her a little closer.
“Don’t do that. You’re the cause of all this,” she complained.
“She’s the cause of what?” Kimberley asked.
“She’s the cause of, of … of us knowing too much,” she replied in a huff, turning away.
“Matilda, what’s she talking about?” Angel asked.
“Well, umm, let’s just say that ... oh geeze ... I really can’t talk about it, but she’s right. Most of the trouble we get into is my fault,” I answered cryptically.
They both looked at us strangely. It was if they knew everything we weren't saying, but nobody would admit to knowing anything.
"All right then, you two work this out and we'll see you later," Kimberley said, breaking the silence.
We agreed to meet again the next day, before lunch, after which they left us to go meet up with the rest of year A, or to think about our future.
After a little more discussion, Mary Beth and I went down to the lounge. As a group we decided to go watch the tree lighting process, none of us having seen it before. Before going to the cafeteria, everyone went to their rooms to retrieve their Christmas Ornaments. We figured if the school could put the tree up a day early, we could put our ornaments on a day early. As it turned out, we were the only year to have come up with the idea of hanging their ornaments a day early. Although, once the other students, watching the tree lighting, saw us with our ornaments the word spread quickly. Before all the lights were on the tree the entire student body was there with ornaments in hand.
By the way, it was Elders Bennett and Johnson who were putting the lights on the tree, under the direction of Miss Baker. Later, I was informed that they rotate through the different religions represented at the school for the honor of putting the lights on the tree. After the lights were all in place, Elder Bennett secured a large lighted star a top the tree. As the trio were leaving I heard Elder Johnson commenting, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could draw a crowd like this on Sunday mornings?”
When it was just the students in the cafeteria, Suzanne and Edward come over to where all of the Black Sheep were standing. “Jenny, Aaron,” Suzy started. “It appears that putting our ornaments on the tree now, was an idea from someone in year A, being that you were the first to arrive with your ornaments. To acknowledge your contribution to the school we think, that is the rest of the school, we think year A should have the honor of being the first to put your ornaments on the tree.”
Thus, year A was responsible for the birth of a new tradition at Immigration Manor. That year and every year thereafter, the entire school was present for what became known as the tree lighting ceremony. Starting with year A, each year would take turns placing their ornaments on the tree, with the rest of the school in attendance. After all the ornaments were on the tree, someone would start singing Christmas carols, with everyone joining in. Usually we sang late into the night, although no one ever said anything about being out of our rooms after curfew, even though we usually were.
D Day - minus seventeen
The next morning, I realized that we'd double booked our morning. We were supposed to meet with Kimberley and Angel during the time we usually see Rachael, and I needed to talk with Rachael. I quickly sent a note to Ellen, asking if she could excuse us from our French class, and why. It wasn't until we'd almost finished breakfast that she responded, telling us that our request had been approved.
“Hi. Rachael,” I greeted as we entered her room.
“Well … Hi? What are you two doing here? I mean, this isn’t when you usually come see me, what’s up?”
“What, are we only allowed to see you at a particular time each day?” Mary Beth asked.
“No, you can come see me any time you want. This is just a surprise, that’s all.”
“Well, to be honest Sis, there is a reason for this unscheduled visit,” I added. After a few seconds of silence I continued, “Something’s come up and I won’t be coming to see you for a while.”
“What did you do this time?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t do anything wrong, at least not this time,” I assured her.
“So what’s going on?
Mary Beth didn’t help me this time, other than offer some moral support. She stood behind me, rubbing my shoulders.
I started out slowly, “You know we’ve haven’t kept secrets from each other, at least not since, well, you know.” Rachael giggled at my reference and embarrassment, as I refreshed both our memories of my panty snatching days.
“Well, I have a confession to make. There are one or two things about Immigration Manor that I haven’t told you."
"Like what?"
"Actually there are lots of things I haven't told you, and I really can’t tell you about them, so please don’t ask-"
"What do you mean, what haven't you tol … "
Mary Beth interrupted. I don't know if she was trying to help me or trying to save Rachael's childhood and protect her innocence, "Believe me, Rachael, you don't want to know. The only reason I know is because I'm Matilda's study partner, and there's no secrets between study partners."
Rachael thought about what Mary Beth had said before asking, "So, tell me, why are you here?"
I hesitated for a while, not knowing exactly how to say it. Finally I just blurted it out, "I’ve been asked to help a family defect from France to the US.”
“WHAT? … You’re joking right? … This is all some kind of prank you’re pulling on me?”
Neither of us answered any of Rachael’s questions. We didn’t have to; she read our faces and knew that this wasn’t a joke.
“But, you can't, I mean, you’re just a kid. We’re all just kids. We don’t do stuff like that, I mean kids don't. This is nuts!"
"You're right about it being nutty, but it's true nonetheless," I sadly replied.
"But, why you? Why would someone ask you? Does this have something to do with all the stuff you did to the computers? That's it, you did something really wrong, and they're sending you off somewhere to get rid of you?”
“No," I giggled. “For once, this has nothing to do with computers, and nothing to do with anything I've done. It has to do with me looking like a girl named Sally."
"Or is it that she looks like you?" Mary Beth asked smugly.
"Well, I was born first, so I guess she looks like me … poor kid."
"So, just what do you have to do?" Rachael wanted to know.
"Not much, I just have to take her place for a day so that some people we know can sneak Sally and her sister away from a security team that watches their family. I really can’t tell you any more than that, and I probably shouldn't have told you that much."
"Okay, so you look like a French girl and you're going to take her place for a day. I still think the whole plan is nutty as a fruitcake. Won't her parents notice the difference?"
"They're in on it," I replied simply.
"But you don't speak French!"
"Vous vous trompez ma chá¨re soeur. Je parle trá¨s bien français," I replied with a smile.
"What?"
"She said, 'You are mistaken, my dear sister. I speak French very well’," Mary Beth translated.
"You too?"
We both smiled and nodded.
"But how, when-"
"A month, with a special tutor, will do wonders." I answered Rachael's question, before she finished asking it.
"That, and using it all day, every day," Mary Beth added.
"What do you mean? When? How?"
"Rachael, the time we spend visiting with you is the only time we're allowed to use English. The rest of the time we use French, at least for the last two weeks. The rest of the school has been using nothing but French since Halloween. Even our PDA's and computers display in French," I explained, further.
"You know … I hate these casts. I can't even cross my arms when I want to pout.” Rachael thought for a few moments before she continued. “Okay, so you look like a French girl, you sound like a French girl, and you're going to im-m … "
"Imitate?" Mary Beth asked.
"No, that's not the word I'm looking for."
"Impersonate?" I volunteered.
"That's it, impersonate. You're going to impersonate this French girl, and you really think that nobody is going to notice a difference?"
"That's the plan, they certainly hope I can pull it off," I calmly admitted.
"Okay, okay. You do know the whole plan is crazy, don't you? That's probably why they asked you to do it, because you're crazy, too. But there's one thing you haven't told me - why the special visit?"
"We just came see you now because … well … there's something else we need to do when we usually visit with you. Also, I couldn’t just disappear for three weeks without letting you know first.”
“Three weeks? What do you mean three weeks? You’re telling me you're not going to be here? I’m going to be stuck here, alone, for three weeks?”
“Of course not, Mom still comes to see you, doesn't she? Mary Beth will still be coming over, and she can arrange for the Black Sheep to come over to keep you entertained.”
“Oh great, that's all I need. I’ll be heckled by Statler and Waldorf, times nine!”
“Oh come now, they’re not that bad,” Mary Beth argued.
After giving it some thought, Rachael finally agreed, “You’re right; they're not that bad … they're worse. But I will admit one thing … they are entertaining.”
Once Rachael realized she wouldn't be all alone while I would be practicing to be Sally, the three of us enjoyed just being together. We were the three Musketeers again, planning what we’d do once Rachael was out of traction.
All too soon it was time to leave. We had to get back for our meeting with Kimberley and Angel.
“Um, Rachael, before we leave, we need you to promise something. You see, we’ve kind of involved you in a major secret and you can't tell anyone, not Mom, and especially not the Black Sheep,” I confessed, as we were about to leave.
“You have? A Secret? Cool! What secret?”
“Well, about me helping that French family. You can’t tell anyone what we’ve told you. The rest of the school doesn’t know the real story."
"Why not?"
"That's hard to explain; but, they’ll be told another story to explain why I’m acting strange.”
“You didn’t say anything about acting strange.”
“The girl that she looks like, has a little problem," Mary Beth offered. "Mentally she’s only two,”
“Two? You have to act like you're TWO?" she laughed. "This could be fun; I've always wanted a little sister. So just because you're going to be a baby doesn't mean you can't come see me. Wait, a baby? Does the French girl wear? I mean, are you going to have to -?“ Rachael didn’t finish her question, she didn’t have to. The look on my face filled in all the answers. She was one of the few people who knew what that meant to me. “Oh Matilda! Darn these casts. Come here sis, I need to give you a hug.”
I climbed into Rachael’s bed, almost squishing her, and put my arms around her as she did the best she could at giving me, her big little sister, a hug. Of course there were tears involved, on both sides. Mary Beth finally had to interrupt, and all but dragged me from Rachael’s rigid arms.
We had a hard time explaining to Kimberley and Angel why my face and eyes were so red. It’s a good thing we didn’t run into Jenny between the hospital and our rooms, or anyone else, for that matter.
We went over the DVDs again, making a list of the unique character traits of both girls. Sort of a game plan of what we needed to do, what we needed know, and how we needed to act for the next two and a half weeks. Then Mary Beth and I went to lunch, with the Black Sheep.
After lunch, years A, B, and C were given time to change out of our school uniforms and into what was recommend as semi-formal, pretty much what we used to call our 'Sunday go to Meeting Clothes'. After changing clothes, we went back to the lounge, with the rest of the year. There I discovered there is a timely ritual that takes place each time anyone leaves the school grounds. Aaron checked in everyone’s school PDA, issuing them what was known as a travel PDA. Years D and up had changed their clothes before they went to lunch, and I assume they changed PDAs as well.
At the appointed time, we found four commercial busses waiting in the main parking lot, from four different charter companies. At the time I wondered if they were really from the charter companies, or were they just painted that way. Remembering what we'd learned from Beca, Lizzy, Ellen, and RJ about the security measures for the school, I suspected the busses were owned by the school and painted different for security reasons.
"All right everyone," Mr. Peterson called out, once everyone arrived. "We'll do this the same as before, two years on each bus, along with their chaperones. But just for a little variety, let's mix it up a bit. Let's have years A and E on the first bus, B and F on the second, C and G on the third, and finally D and H on the fourth. Everyone, enjoy your trip, and we'll see you at dinner."
Being that I was still thinking about what I'd agreed to do, I was, understandably somewhat somber as we boarded our assigned bus. I quickly took a window seat, near the rear. I hoped that I could get away without talking to anyone, except Mary Beth of course. My plan worked out pretty well, for the most part.
Our bus, being the first in line, was the first to pull out. As we were cresting the hill, leaving the valley the school is nestled in, I noticed that none of the other busses had moved. My curiosity got the better of me and I started playing with my PDA. It didn't take long to discover that I still had access to almost all of the school systems, although the data transfer speed was much slower. It took some digging, but I found what I'd been looking for - 'Travel Policies' and 'Equipment Specifications'. It should make for some interesting reading, when I don't have other things on my mind.
"You're too quiet, what you working on? Something you're going to get in trouble for?" Mary Beth quietly asked.
"I don't think I'll get in trouble-"
"You never think you'll get into trouble," she interrupted. "Or is it that you just never think?" she teased.
"I’m always thinking, dear friend. It's just that I never try to get into trouble. He just likes to follow me around and jump on me when I'm not expecting it. Actually, I wonder if trouble is a she instead of a he. Anyway, right now I'm looking at some information about security. With security systems as my specialty, I should be okay."
"Maybe ... but just to be safe, you might want to ask someone."
"Humm, good idea. I’m glad I thought of it."
"What?"
"Just kidding. Thanks for the suggestion, MayBee. Who do you think I should ask, Mr. Peterson, Mr. Black, Ellen, or RJ?"
"I think I'd ask RJ. You told me we can trust him," she whispered. "I don't think security is Ellen's department. The way the other two treated you, the other day; I don't think I'd trust either of them."
"RJ it is," I agreed, as I opened a note page.
RJ
I was wondering about security measures
for when the school is traveling. I was looking
at some data on one of the servers.
MayBee reminded me that I should ask first.
So, who should I ask?
Matilda
It didn't take RJ long to reply, although his reply wasn't what I expected.
Matilda
Thank you for asking.
Knowing what you're capable of and your
natural instincts, this will be hard for you.
But, I must ask that you restrain you natural
curiosity and not dig into those areas at this
time.
We can review that information when you
return.
Thanks
RJ
Well, I don't mind saying that I was more than a little disappointed, but I did as RJ asked and quietly put away my PDA.
After traveling for about an hour, I started to feel the unmistakable sound of Mother Nature calling my name. I tried to ignore her, but you know how persistent Mother Nature can be. Finally giving in, I made my way to the facility at the rear of the bus. If you've never had the privilege of using the facility in the back of a bouncing bus before, I wouldn't recommend it. If you don't have a choice, I feel sorry for you.
After returning to my seat, Mary Beth took a turn using the limited facilities. That’s when an unexpected problem took hold of me, literally.
I was looking out the window, minding my own business, when someone sat down next to me. I assumed it was Mary Beth returning from the restroom; that is until someone took my hand and I knew it wasn't Mary Beth. "Hello, Jenny, what are you doing here?” I said before turning to look at her, while trying to retrieve my hand.
"I am here to find out what is wrong," she replied calmly.
"Wrong? What do you mean? There's nothing wrong," I professed.
"Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? Everyone in our year has noticed how moody and upset you have been the last few days. Everyone is worried and concerned about you. There has even been a discussion about imposing an unofficial suicide watch, for your protection," she told me as she closed her eyes.
As it usually happened, Jenny's magical touch took most of the fight out of me the moment she took my hand. I was calm and at peace. I knew I'd made the right decision about helping Sally and her family. At that moment I no longer feared what was to come. I just hoped I did a good job of blocking my other thoughts from Jenny.
A moment later Jenny let go of my hand and opened her eyes. Her eyes were glazed over like she was in a hypnotic trance. Very quietly, almost inaudible, she spoke, "I sense a great conflict growing within you, Matilda. You are afraid of your future, afraid of your ability to do what has been asked of you. You are not alone; there are many who will -"
"Hi Jenny," interrupted Mary Beth as she came back from the restroom. "What's going on?"
Jenny blinked, smiled, and turned towards Mary Beth. "Hello, MayBee. I was just telling Matilda how concerned the others are about her."
"Oh, really?" Mary Beth replied, a little sarcastically.
"Yes. It has been noticed by almost everyone that she is not acting like her normal happy self. We are wondering if there is anything we can do to help?"
"You know, now that you mention it, it has been several days since I've heard her laugh. I've heard that if you keep the laughter inside, and don't let it out, you can do some serious bodily damage." Mary Beth started a little sarcastic teasing.
"Really?" Jenny asked suspiciously.
"Oh yes," Mary Beth was laying it on pretty thick. "Lack of laughter can be very serious. It can lead to a loss of appetite, mood swings, depression, and it can cause you to not sleep well.
'All of which I am suffering from, but for reasons I can't discuss openly.'
"If left untreated, keeping laughter inside can cause the laughing gases to build until you start to swell up like a balloon."
"This sounds like a serious condition." Jenny was definitely playing along and was starting to smile. "Is there a cure for this condition?"
'I'll have to take care of MayBee later. Right now I'm in trouble, there's no place to run.'
"Well, about twenty seconds per day, devoid of laughter is usually what’s recommended. So about a minute of solid laughter should do the trick"
"Is there a particular procedure involved to achieve the level of laughter required?" Jenny was really starting to enjoy my captive predicament.
"Actually there is," Mary Beth went on to explain. "It’s most effective if you start at the feet and work your way up. That way all of the unspent laughter is worked out."
'You're going to pay for this, I don't know how but … '
"Hhhhhaaaaaaaa," I screamed out, as several hands came over the back of my seat, holding me in place.
Both Mary Beth and Jenny pounced on me, tickling from my ankles upward. I tried the good old standby of 'Stop or I'll have an accident.' Being that I’d just used the facilities, which they knew, they didn't let up. I don't know if they tickled for the full minute or not. To me it seemed like an hour.
Being tickled like that did take my mind off the challenges of my future, and brought me into the present. The rest of the trip was real nice; I was more relaxed than I'd been in days. The Black Sheep may be a bunch of goof-offs and hecklers, but they are also some of the best friends I've ever had.
By the time we got off of I-15, the other busses had caught up with us. Dinner was great, I've never ordered for myself before, which was kind of fun and kind of scary at the same time. When we were traveling, Mom or Dad always ordered for me.
Like Mr. Peterson said, the restaurant was a small place. We were seated in the order we entered the doors. Mary Beth and I were seated at an oblong table, along with Misa and Morgan, as well as Pamela and Crystal from year E, which was a surprise. During dinner, we got aquainted and learned a lot about the year E students and what our classes would be like as we got older. I didn't know what the others thought about it, but I was beginning to wonder what I'd gotten myself into.
During dinner, I received an unexpected text message,
Updated information obtained.
Additional DVDs provided.
Nellie will keep them safe
until your return.
LB
Mr. Black's message, although somewhat cryptic and unexpected, was welcome, and hopefully the information he'd left would answer most of the questions. I just couldn't help but wonder what Nellie had to do with it, or how he knew her name.
After we were back on the busses, to my surprise, we went further north. Obviously, we weren't going to the center in Ogden, where Jens Mortensen had been performing the day before. We were only on the busses for a few minutes before we pulled up in front of a large white building. The sign on the building said ‘Utah State University, Brigham City Campus’. Once again we again disembarked from our sleek metallic chariots. We were directed through a maze of corridors before coming to a stop, then into a small auditorium. My first thought was, would we all fit in here? We were allowed to sit anywhere we wished.
I considered sitting near the front, knowing I'd be going up front sooner or later. The bulk of the Black Sheep thought it would be fun to sit in the very back. As the floor was sloped, the seats in the rear were the highest. The Black Sheep thought it would be fun to look down over everyone else for a change. Somewhat reluctantly, Mary Beth and I joined in with the rest of the year. While we were waiting, I started wondering how this had been arranged. Did the S. P. A. have connections with Utah State University, or rather, who in the S. P. A. had connections at the university?
Once everyone was seated, a young lady stepped onto the small stage. "Welcome, everyone. We have a special treat for you this evening. Tonight you will not only be entertained by observing the effects of hypnosis, but each and every one of you will know what it feels like to lose control of your emotions. Welcome to the stage, someone who has mystified the crowned heads of Europe, dazzled presidents, and controlled the minds of thousands. I give you hypnotist extraordinaire, Jens Mortensen."
Everyone applauded as a distinguished looking gentleman entered from a side door, stepping onto the stage and began walking back and forth as he spoke. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to thank you for coming to this command performance this evening. Command performance, what does that mean exactly?”
“A Command Performance is a presentation, or performance, given at the request of royalty or head of state.” Someone from one of the older years yelled out.
“Really? But tonight’s performance isn’t by request of royalty, rather that of a good friend. So in actuality, I’m here by special request. You, on the other hand are the ones that have been commanded to be here. Am I right?"
There was a round of laughter and cheers as everyone realized that he was exactly right. Of course he was right. This whole evening away from school was because of two events; First, Mr. Black's request for my help. Second, we’re here because of my suggestion, as to a way of hiding the truth from the rest of the school. So everyone had been commanded to be here. If I didn't have to be here I wouldn't be.
"Very well," Mr. Mortensen continued. "Now that everyone knows their role here this evening and what's expected of them, shall we have some fun?" This was followed by more cheers.
"Great, it sounds like everyone’s ready for a good time." More cheering. "What a terrific group. I understand you're all from the same school, is that right?" That room was too small for all that noise. "I'll take that as a yes. Well now, we wouldn't want to do anything to embarrass a fellow student, now would we? What do you say we start out small and work up to a big finale?" I was starting to think half the school would have sore throats before the night was over. "Let's have two volunteers, after all two is the smallest group there is."
Almost on cue I heard Kimberley and Angel call out,” Munchkin, Munchkin . . .” They were soon joined by almost the entire school.
I slowly stood. I was going to take Mary Beth with me, but I decided I'd already involved her in to many of my misadventures already. So I decided to pick on someone else for a change, and grabbed Misa's hand.
"What? Me?" Misa complained.
Suddenly all of the Black Sheep started chanting, “Misa, Misa . . .” soon to be joined by many others. Misa smiled at me as she shrugged her shoulders and stood up. Taking my hand, we boldly walked down the aisle.
"Hello," Mr. Mortensen greeted, shaking Misa's hand. "And who would you be?"
"I'm Misa."
"It’s very nice to meet you, Misa."
Turning and shaking my hand, he continued, "And you must be a Munchkin. I think you're the smallest victim … I mean, subject, I've worked with. How old are you, five or si - ix?" There was a collective gasp from the audience, and I think I heard Ellen and perhaps Mr. Peterson calling out my name. "Ouch!"
"I'm ten!" I stated gruffly, as I withdrew my foot.
"My apologies Miss Munchkin," he said while rubbing his left calf. "I guess I've said something that upset you, Miss …?"
"It's Matilda. And … I'm Sorry. It's a reflex action," I apologized.
"Well perhaps I should stand over here," he chuckled as he hobbled to stand behind a row of chairs, motioning us toward the first two chairs in the row. "Would you be so kind as to take a seat?"
The next twenty minutes I have no memory of, except that Mary Beth told me I make a good chicken. The rest of the evening was a blur. As each group of volunteers were coaxed from the audience, those who had participated remained on stage. Mr. Mortensen's last stunt was indeed a grand finale as it was directed at all those remaining in the audience. So everyone had a taste of being under someone else's control.
The ride back to the Manor was uneventful; almost everyone napped at some point in time. Arriving back in my room, we found out what Mr. Black had referred to in his e-mail. Neatly stacked in the middle of my bed were five DVDs and an envelope. We chuckled to ourselves as Nellie was sitting on top of the stack, protecting them.
"Should we start with the DVDs or the letter?" I asked.
"Are you nuts? It's after midnight and you’re thinking about watching DVDs!" Mary Beth scolded. "Just read the letter, and then let's go to bed. We can go through the DVDs tomorrow."
"Okay, okay, you don't have to get upset."
"I'm sorry. I'm not upset, just really tired an-n (yaaaawn) n-nd I need some sleep."
"I know what you mean (yaawn) and you're right, the DVDs can wait. Should I read this out loud?"
"It'll save trying to explain-n-n (yaawn) it later."
"You want to sit down?"
"No way. If I sit down I'll fall asleep. Just read it."
"Okay, it's a little long."
"So read fast."
Matilda,The answers to your questions are as follows;
First, Sally’s diapers are never changed in a public setting. While the family is at home, the live-in nurse takes Sally to her room to change her diapers. When traveling, Sally’s mother or sister will do the same, taking Sally into the privacy of the room that the girls would share. If they are in a public setting, a restaurant, store, or other public area, the use of a private gender neutral, facility is desired. That being unavailable they will use a handicap/wheelchair stall in a public restroom.
Second, Sally only makes a fuss about being changed if she’s involved with a game, a movie, or some other activity. The problem is being taken away from what she wants, not the act of having her diaper changed.
All of Sally’s other characteristics can be observed on the various DVDs that have been left for you. She is, for all practical purposes, a large two-year-old. When we inquired about Sally’s condition, both Jean-Paul and Suzette were very reluctant to discuss it. It was only through a private and very tearful, talk with Arabelle that we learned some valuable information. Taking that to Jean-Paul, we were able to learn the facts about Sally, and why Arabelle is so devoted to her little sister.
It seems that when Sally was two, Jean-Paul was working for a different company. The security at this company was very lax, and the families of the employees were allowed to visit during working hours.
One day Suzette took the two girls to visit their father. Jean-Paul was explaining the different processes that were performed in the various labs. Sally quickly became bored with the scientific explanations and wanted Arabelle to play with her. Arabelle was interested in what her father was describing, and didn't want to be bothered. She absentmindedly left Sally in her father's office. Sally played for a little while before wandering off, looking for her family. Scared and tired, she wandered into a quiet room and fell asleep under some heavy gray blankets.
Shortly after Sally fell asleep an automated door slid closed, trapping her inside one of the test chambers. In a nearby control room an elaborate sequence had begun, bringing four different radioactive elements together, in an attempt to create a more powerful element. It wasn't until the remote camera zoomed out that someone noticed the pile of lead-lined radiation vests … move.
It took some time before the procedure could be aborted and all the elements were safely returned to their storage containers. The cleanup procedure took an additional ninety minutes in order to bring the radiation levels down to marginally acceptable levels. All totaled, Sally was exposed to what was considered lethal radiation for two hours, forty five minutes.
When the test chamber could finally be opened, everyone expected the worst. To the relief of Jean-Paul, Suzette, and Arabelle, Sally was alive; and to the shock of everyone else she was apparently unharmed. Sally was tested and examined for months after that, every aspect of her life, growth, and blood composition was recorded over and over. It was sometime before they realized that Sally's brain had stopped growing.
Sally was two years, four months, and sixteen days old when the accident occurred, and her brain hasn't changed or grown from that day to this. The physicians and the many specialists that have examined her over the years are as stumped now as they were then. They do agreed that without some change, some new brain growth or activity, Sally may not live to see her sixteenth birthday.
Arabelle blames herself for what happened to her sister. She has devoted herself to taking care of Sally, as have both of their parents. Sally, on the other hand appears to be completely unaware of any problem. Her body continues to grow, but to Sally, she's the same two-year-old she was on that fatal day; happy, cheerful, and completely free of any cares, worries, or the frustrations normally seen in children with abnormal brain activity.
* * * To Be Continued * * *
Comments will be gratefully accepted, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 21
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
In the absence of a trampoline, a bed works.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Hart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 21
By Penny Reed Cardon
D Day - Minus sixteen.
I woke up at my usual time - when Mother Nature demanded it. After going to the bathroom and crawling back into bed, I spent some more time crying and feeling sorry for myself.
'How do I keep getting myself into these messes?'
“Morning, Munchkin,” Mary Beth called out as she entered my room. “Hey, what’s going on? You’re always up by now. You're not sick or something, are you?”
“Yeah, that's good. I'm sick! Call Mr. Peterson, tell him to cancel today,” I grumbled.
“You know we can’t cancel today. Come on now, get out of bed.”
“NO," I moaned loudly, as I pulled the covers up over my head. "I don’t want this day to be here yet.”
"You seem pretty glum this morning. What's the matter? You didn't, umm, I mean, well … did you-"
"NO! I didn't wet the bed," I snapped. "And, I won’t, at least ... not until I have to." The last sentence was barely a whisper.
I felt the bed shift as she climbed up and scooted next to me. Then, I felt her hand on my shoulder. “So? What’s the matter?” she gently asked.
“I - I can't do this,” I whimpered.
"But Matilda, you told them that you would. You’ve never gone back on your word, before."
That got me going. I didn't need to be reminded of that. Not today. Not this morning. I threw the covers off my face, sat up and all but screamed at her, "Can I help it if sometimes I'm STUPID?"
Mary Beth, true to form, and showing the love she felt, even if she wasn't ready to admit it openly, calmly took one of my hands into hers. "You're not stupid. You're one of the smartest people I know. It’s just that … well, sometimes you care about others, lots more than about yourself."
"So I'm a caring stupid person," I moaned.
"You're not a stupid person."
"But I do stupid things."
"Heck, we all do stupid things once in a while; that doesn’t make you stupid."
With my brief bout of anger defused, my emotions caught up with me and I started crying once more. Mary Beth moved closer and took me in her arms. She just sat there and held me tight, my face buried in her shoulder, as I cried myself out.
"Feel better?" she asked, once I'd stopped soaking her shoulder with tears.
"A little," I replied softly.
"You ready to get dressed?"
"I guess I might as well," I grumbled.
She slid off the bed, taking the blankets with her.
When she started giggling I asked simply, "What?"
She pointed at my lap, where my nightgown had ridden all the way up to my waist, saying, "That’s why I prefer baby-doll nighties with matching panties to long nightgowns. But, a pink nightgown with lime green panties?"
I'm sure I was blushing as I worked my nightgown back into a more modest position, while I muttered, "So, I don't know anything about color coordination, alright? That was always Rachel's big thing. Besides, Sally always wears long nightgowns."
"Whatever," she giggled. Grabbing my hand she pulled me off the bed. "Need to use the bathroom?"
"I guess so. Give me one last reminder of what cold porcelain feels like," I grumbled.
"Oh come on now, you don't need to exaggerate like that. It's only going to be for a couple of weeks."
"Plus the recovery time," I muttered gruffly.
She snickered, "Ellen's right, you are going to be a grumpy baby."
"What? When did she say that?"
"Never mind! Just get in the bathroom and do what you need to do. I’ll bring you some clothes so you can get dressed."
"But I haven't had a shower yet."
"Don't worry about that right now. We should be downstairs already. I'm sure you'll have time later."
Just then someone knocked on my bedroom door. Turning away from the bathroom, I started for the door.
"I'll get that." Mary Beth grabbed my arm and swinging me around. "You get in the bathroom."
As I was closing the bathroom door, I heard the bedroom door open. I left the door ajar so I could hear what was going on.
"Morning, Jenny."
"Good morning, Mary Beth. You and Matilda are much later than usual. Is there anything wrong?" I could hear the concern in Jenny's voice.
"No, Matilda is ... Well, Matilda just isn't quite herself this morning."
"Hmm, perhaps we could escort her to the hospital after breakfast, so one of the nurses can give her a once over," Jenny suggested.
"That's a good idea, Jenny. I'll take her over right after breakfast."
"And who will be taking you?" Jenny asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, if my memory is correct, you should still be using your wheelchair, at least for the most part."
"Yeees -"
"And, if you are taking Matilda to the hospital and you are in your wheelchair, I must assume that Matilda will be on your lap. So my question remains, who will be taking you?"
Mary Beth giggled, "I'm sure I'll be able to find a few volunteers. You and the rest of the year go ahead and go to breakfast; we'll be over in a couple of minutes."
"Do not be too long, the volunteers will be waiting. Not to mention that Mr. Peterson, along with the rest of us, will be concerned."
"Thanks, it's good to know that you guys care about us. We'll see you in a bit."
They bid each other farewell. After the door closed, there was only silence. A silence so complete the only sound I heard was the beating of my heart ... and my tooth brush.
A few moments later I was startled by a little knock on the bathroom door. "Yeah?"
'I've got to be more eloquent when I'm grumpy.'
"You ready for some clothes?"
"I guess."
"May I come in?"
"Sure, nothing you haven't seen before."
Mary Beth tentatively said, "But we’re not supposed to see each other ...” as the door slowly swung open. “You're still in your nightgown."
"Well at least my teeth are brushed," I said, putting my toothbrush back in its usual place.
"Do I need to help you get undressed?" she teased.
"Noooo," I sarcastically replied. "Just give me my clothes and go away."
She handed me my clothes and turned to leave. Pulling the door closed she paused to say, "Make it fast, I’ll be back in two minutes."
"Make it five," I countered.
"All right, three. Now get a move on." She closed the door quickly, cutting off any chance of me trying to ask for four.
I undressed quickly. It was then I noticed that Mary Beth had only brought one pair of panties.
'Oh well, I’ll stop in the closet and put on a second pair before we leave. Why is it that pants and panties are referred to as pairs? A pair of socks is two socks, but a pair of panties is just one. Who invented this crazy language anyway?'
Dressed, I went back into my bedroom to pick up my PDA, to find Mary Beth was waiting on the couch. She was wearing a different blouse.
She smiled cheerfully as I emerged, "See? You only needed two minutes."
"But I wanted five."
"Why?"
After a moment’s hesitation I grumbled my reply, "So I could pout some more."
"No more pouting!" She giggled. "Now, where's my happy Munchkin?"
I replied by sticking out my tongue.
"It is a cute tongue, but you're supposed to keep it in your mouth. Do you want to explain to everyone why you're sad and grumpy today?"
"YES ... but I can't."
"All right then, put a smile on your face and let's get going, my itty-bitty Munchkin."
"Do you want to wear a bruise to breakfast?" I sneered, as I picked up my PDA.
"Matilda, you wouldn't kick me … would you?"
"I … No, I guess not. But, please, don't call me that."
"I’m sorry." She came over and put an arm around me. "I shouldn't tease you like that and I won't do it again, promise."
I looked into her eyes and knew she meant what she said. I smiled and she smiled back, then she leaned down slightly and kissed my nose.
I was about to put my PDA into its customary pocket when I stopped. I paused for a moment just looking at my top of the line, state of the art, beta unit, PDA. Shaking my head, I sadly tossed the PDA onto my bed.
"What're you doing?" Mary Beth asked, surprised by my action.
"Sally doesn’t use one. So, I don't think I'm going to need that until this is over," I stated sadly.
"Hmm, I guess you're right about that. Come on now, you were almost happy for a moment. So, where's that happy Matilda smile that everyone knows and loves?"
"I left it on the bed with Nellie and my PDA," I sarcastically replied.
"All right, I know you're unhappy and upset about what you have to do today. I understand how you feel and I’ll do everything I can to make things as easy as I can. But, unless you want to go through the grilling of a lifetime from the resident experts, you’d better put on your happy face."
"You're right about that. If they see me this depressed, they won't stop until they know everything, and I do mean everything. They'd even have Jenny work me over again, like yesterday on the bus." I painted on a sweet smile and gave a little curtsy for Mary Beth.
“That’s better, although just a little too little girlish,” she giggled. “Come on, let's go.”
“One second, I need something.” I dashed into my closet where I slipped a second pair of panties on under my skirt, to firmly hold things where they belonged.
As I exited the closet Mary Beth asked, "What was that all about?"
"You forgot that I always wear two pairs of panties," I answered.
"Sorry."
In reply, I just smiled and nodded.
"You want to splash some cold water on your face? It looks like you've been crying."
"Well that's good to know. It should look like I've been crying, because I have been. But no, I think I’ll use some snow, cold and wet, it should do a good job and take less time … I’ve got it! I can disappear into a snow bank for two weeks. Then I won’t have to go through with this," I teased, as we left Mary Beth's room in our customary arrangement. Mary Beth was seated, with me pushing.
"It won't work, but it was a nice try."
"And why won't it work?"
"Two reasons; first, there's that locator system you told me about."
"Oh, yeah, it’s a nasty little system. What if I disable it first?"
"You can't do that."
"And why not?"
"Because, you left your PDA on the bed with Nellie."
"Rats, I screwed up again. So what's the second reason I can't hide out for two weeks?"
"You gave your word. Hiding or running away would mean you went back on your word. That would be like breaking a promise."
"See? I told you I'm stupid. Why can't I be like everyone else?"
Mary Beth turned to look at me, and smiled, "Because you're special."
"You don't have to rub it in," I countered, lovingly tapping her nose with my finger.
To my great surprise, and relief, Ellen was our table's visiting therapist for the day. We quickly got our breakfasts and took our usual seats. Everyone was eating when we arrived, so either we'd missed the morning announcements, or there weren't any.
"Morning ladies," Ellen greeted.
"Morning everybody. Sorry we're late. I, umm, overslept." 'That was a feeble excuse. I hope I don't get too many questions.'
"We were out rather late last night," Ellen commented, before anyone else had a chance say anything.
"Did we miss anything important?" Mary Beth inquired.
"No. Mr. Peterson did not have any announcements this morning," Jenny answered.
"Maybe I should sleep in more often," I joked, insinuating a connection between the two events. That comment coaxed out a few chuckles and some heckling, as I expected. The consensus was we should all sleep in.
"I'm not sure your correlation between sleeping in and a lack of announcements is valid," Ellen countered with a smile. "I suggest being here on time would give a better impression."
"It may not give a good impression, but it would sure feel good once in a while," Morgan countered, with a little chuckle.
The breakfast conversation was going about as I’d expected. Mostly, they were discussing last night’s dinner and show. I sighed to myself as Misa mentioned the part where I’d kicked Mr. Mortensen.
I'd already decided that, that would be my cue to change personalities. Too bad I hadn't finished my breakfast.
Pushing my chair backward and grinning like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, I slid off my chair and under the table. Mary Beth leaned down, asking, "What are you doing?"
I looked up and kissed her nose, before I crawled out from under the table, but on the other side. Dancing around the table I stopped and threw my arms around Mary Beth and whispered in her ear, "Showtime."
I grabbed a sausage link from Morgan's plate and stuffed it in my mouth. "Hey," he cried out.
I continued dancing around the table humming the first two lines of 'Ding dong the witch is dead' over and over. I completely ignored Ellen's attempts to get me to sit down. It wasn't long before my mouth was empty. Being that I hadn't finished my breakfast, and seeing that I was imitating Sally, I helped myself to some of Ellen's toast, much to her dismay. Besides, I love raspberry jam. Not being greedy, I only took one bite and gave her back the rest. Unfortunately, the toast landed upside down in her bowl of oatmeal. I hope she didn't mark me down for neatness.
I continued my little show for several minutes, working my way around the room. I paid no heed to the verbal attempts made by the other psychiatrist's for me to stop. I also dashed nimbly out of reach when they tried to catch me.
I stopped from time to time, to pilfer bits of breakfast from years B and C as well. After all, I didn't want to be accused of showing any favoritism. Finally I got around to where Mr. Peterson was sitting. I just couldn't skip by without giving him a hug and a very wet kiss on the cheek. I mean after all, this was partly his doing, so I figured he would like to share in the fun.
Loudly I proclaimed, "I wuv you, daddy."
Mr. Peterson, for some unknown reason, didn't find my actions amusing. He abruptly grabbed my arm as he stood, calling out, "Ellen, I don't know what's gotten into this young lady, but I think you have some work to do."
Ellen and Mary Beth rushed over to collect what had become a loud squirming child. After all, it was dancing and playing time. Obviously, you can't dance and play if someone is holding your arm.
With Ellen on one side and Mary Beth on the other, I was quickly, although not quietly, escorted from the cafeteria and rushed to Ellen's office, in the administration building. Once we were behind the closed office door I stopped the squirming and yelling. In fact, I was so wiped out I would have collapsed on the floor. It's a good thing Ellen and Mary Beth were holding on to my arms.
"Are you okay?" asked a very concerned Mary Beth.
"Yes, I'm okay," I replied between deep breaths. Slowly I stood upright once more. "That was exhausting, I don't know if I can pull this off. How do little kids go on like that for hours and hours?"
Ellen replied with a grin, "They don't know it’s supposed to be exhausting. They just keep going until they can't go on any more. When they've used up all their energy they stop and take a nap for an hour or so, just so they can recharge, before they're at it again."
"So, is being Sally harder than you thought it would be?" Mary Beth wondered aloud.
"I guess it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I just hope I don't need to have tantrums too oft ..."
Mary Beth interrupted, "See? All that pouting this morning was for nothing."
"You may be right, MayBee. But, the day has just begun," I finished.
"Matilda, where's your PDA?" Ellen asked when she discovered I didn't have it with me.
"Nellie's keeping it warm for me," I replied sarcastically. The look on Ellen’s face told me she was not amused. "Well, Sally doesn't use one. I just figured that I shouldn't carry one while I’m impersonating her."
"Well, in this case you figured wrong. As long as you're a student here you will have your PDA with you any time you're not in your room. When you’re off school grounds you’ll carry one of the travel PDAs." Ellen paused, looking concerned. “Although, I suppose you won’t have the travel PDA while taking the place of Sally, and I’m not happy about that.”
"I didn't think ... I'll pick it up the next time I'm in my room."
After being scolded, we talked about Sally and the things we'd learned from the DVDs and what I’d have to do to pass as Sally. We also told Ellen about the letter that Mr. Black had left, the one that told us why Sally is the way she is. Ellen appeared to be concerned about Sally. She even talked about things she'd like to try to stimulate Sally mentally, that is, if she had the chance.
We’d been talking for a while when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone very familiar calling my name. I tried to ignore her as best as I could. As time went by it became harder and harder to ignore her persistent call. Eventually I got up and started walking around as we talked. I knew very well my efforts were futile and what the eventual outcome would be.
“Mary Beth, why’s Matilda walking around?” I heard Ellen whisper.
“It’s starting,” she sadly whispered back.
Yes, it had started and I knew I would lose the ageless battle of will against Mother Nature. I was so not looking forward to this part, but it had to happen. Sally doesn’t have any control and I was fighting to retain mine. Even though it was a fight I knew I would never win. At least I wasn’t out in public view.
"What's started?" Ellen inquired.
Facing the inevitable, I slowly sank to the floor in an empty corner of Ellen's office, with my back to the room; I did my best not to cry.
"She needs to use the restroom."
"Now? Someone should have said something sooner. Let's move, ladies! Quickly now, we don't have a moment to lose. Mary Beth, go see if there's anyone in the hall. Matilda, up off that floor," Ellen commanded, as she went to a small closest.
"There's nobody in the hall," Mary Beth reported.
"Terrific, come along ladies," Ellen said as she took me by the hand. She led us two doors down the hall and into a small restroom. "Matilda, if you would please, step into one of those stalls and take care of your immediate needs."
"But I'm -"
"No time to argue, move."
I quickly decided to follow Ellen’s instructions. After all, anything was better than the alternative. Rushing into the first stall, I was relieved, both mind and bladder, to have been spared the humiliation I expected I’d have to endure.
"From my visit with Kimberley, late last night, I knew what you were planning. Now here's my plan," Ellen went on to explain. "Matilda, while you're in there, please remove your clothes; from the waist down. Then slide them under the door to us. Oh, and while you’re at it, if you could accidentally stub your toe, it would be beneficial. Then we can honestly say you had an accident. Mary Beth, I’d like you take Matilda's clothes and wet them in the sink. Here's a plastic bag to put the wet clothes in. You're then to return to your rooms, drop the wet clothes down the laundry chute and return to my office with some dry clothes suitable for a munchkin."
Somewhat confused, I questioned, "But Ellen, as Sally I'm supposed to-"
"I know, you're supposed to have an accident. However, you have been looking at the problem from only one perspective, the thing you fear and hate the most; excluding Black Bart of course. You need to remember 'There are always possibilities'. As I see it, there's no need for you to be humiliated or embarrassed. Sally is the way she is because of an incident many years ago. She is neither embarrassed nor humiliated because of her condition, and there's nothing to be gained by your being embarrassed just because you are impersonating her. After all, your wellbeing is my responsibility."
"Thank you Ellen. You don't know how much I've been dreading what I thought I would have to do. Here are my — OUCH - clothes."
"Matilda, what happened?" Mary Beth asked, almost scolding me.
"While I was rolling up my skirt, I slammed my elbow into the toilet paper holder," I confessed.
"Oh well, one accident is as good as another," Ellen chuckled.
As Mary Beth was about to leave, she asked, "So what do I tell anyone I might run into?"
“What do you mean? I expect that you will always tell the truth. Matilda has had an accident, yes?"
"I don't know if I'd call smacking your funny bone an accident."
"So that's a little bit of an exaggeration. Secondly, now that you've soaked her clothes in the sink, she does need some dry clothes, does she not?"
"Yes, but-"
"Mary Beth, everything I've said is true. Unrelated statements perhaps, but true nevertheless. We'll let them draw their own conclusions. Lastly, I suggest that you walk quickly, don't run. After all, you don't want to be in your wheelchair any longer than necessary."
"That's for sure."
"Now then, if anyone asks any more questions, just say that I don't know any more about her condition than I did at breakfast, another true statement. We’ll spread the word about Matilda thinking she's a baby munchkin just before lunch.”
“This whole schema is kind of stretching the truth a bit. But, I like it better than what Matilda had planned. I’ll be back before you know it.”
As I heard the door close, I asked, “Um, Ellen, what am I supposed to wear until MayBee gets back?”
“Well, I’m afraid you have little choice there. Please put this on,” she said as she slipped a white object under the door.
“This is a, a-”
“It's a diaper. You can say it; the word won't burn your tongue. It’s the same pull up style diaper that Sally wears; we had them flown in from France. I’m assuming you can figure out how to pull it up around your hips. I know that Kimberley will be taking care of that duty from now on, but I figured you could handle the first one on your own.”
I knew that sooner or later I’d have to accept being exposed, but for now, Ellen had saved me from that, and I was grateful. After donning what was to be my underwear for the next two weeks, I slowly opened the door of the stall.
“I’m ready to go, I guess,” I muttered softly. I was nervously tugging at the hem of my blouse, trying to make it longer.
“Absolutely not! You’re not walking through the halls of this school wearing just a diaper and a blouse. Come here so I can wrap this blanket around you.” “There you are, at least now you’re modestly covered.”
“Thank you Ellen, for everything. I was really afraid I would have to … well, you know … Thank you.” I shed a few tears as I hugged her.
“Why do you think scheduled myself to be at your table? To prevent you from doing something that you’d be uncomfortable doing. And, you’re welcome, my dear.” Ellen gently lifted me up, carefully wrapping the blanket around my legs before she carried me unseen back to her office, setting me on the large couch.
Mary Beth arrived a short time later with my munchkin dress from Halloween, along with my PDA. After I was dressed, the two of us sat on the couch and talked quietly while Ellen was at her desk. It wasn’t long before I started nodding off. I guess the stress of this morning had taken its toll.
I awoke in a darkened room, lying on the couch in Ellen's office, covered by the blanket that I'd been wrapped in earlier. That's when the memories flooded into my mind and I realized that, yes; it had happened. It had all happened just the way I remembered. It could have been a nightmare, a horrible, horrible nightmare, but thanks to Ellen's love and kindness, it was simply an uncomfortable dream. While lying still I looked around. I couldn't see anyone, although I heard the muffled sounds of Ellen talking with someone. Lifting the blanket, I rolled over. Kneeling on the cushions, I peeked over the back of the couch. I saw Ellen at her desk, illuminated by the soft glow of her computer monitor, talking with someone on the phone.
I'd only been looking at Ellen for a few moments when she interrupted her conversation, "I'm sorry, but you must excuse me, I have two little eyes staring at me. Yes, she's awake. Yes, you may come over. Yes, I think you should bring the others with you. Very well, I'll see you in ten minutes. Uh ha, goodbye."
Ellen hung up the phone, sat forward in her chair and looked at me. I hadn't moved. I was still on my knees, with my fingers and eyes above the edge of the couch. The scene reminded me of something funny; I just couldn't place it at the time. For some reason, I had this uncontrollable urge to giggle.
"Well now, from that giggle I think I'll have to assume you're feeling better. Well, rested at least."
Grinning to myself because Ellen couldn't see my mouth, I gleefully nodded. I turned around and slid off the couch. Grabbing the blanket, I slowly crept around the end of the couch. Once Ellen could see me again, I quickly scampered across the office and crawled onto her lap, dragging the blanket along.
Laughing at my antics Ellen greeted me, "Yes, I'd definitely say you're feeling better. Well now, just who do I have on my lap, Matilda, or Sally?"
"Me Sally."
"You're Sally? Could I talk with Matilda for a few minutes?"
"No"
"No? May I ask why not?"
"Tilda make pwom-us. Me Sally. I need see Wizard. Den Tilda come back. Tilda never bake prom-us."
"Tilda is it? Well, I really need to talk with Tilda. We still have some details to work out."
"Otay. You talk. Tilda listen. Me ... Now how would Sally say that? She wouldn't know the word, answer. What would-"
"How about just saying, me talk?"
"Yeah, that would work ... Ahhggg. Not five minutes into this and I've already blown it. I told them this whole thing was crazy."
"Relax Matilda. This is exactly why you need to practice the role for two weeks. Two months would be better. Given enough time, speaking and acting like Sally will be as natural as speaking French, which, by the way you're doing very well with."
"Thanks.” I paused for a moment, getting back into character. “OKey. What need talk bout?"
"We just need to discuss some of the details around this evening’s announcement. However, on second thought, why don't we wait for the others?"
"What ov-hers?"
"Mary Beth, Kimberley, and Angel. They should be here in a few minutes. While we’re waiting; you didn't eat much breakfast, and you slept through lunch. Are you hungry?"
"Uh ha."
"You are. Okay, I’ll have something sent over from the kitchen. What would you like to eat?"
"Ice cream" I said with a smile.
"Ice cream? For lunch? Not really what I'd consider a nutritious lunch. Let's try again. What else would you like?"
"Ummm, peezza miff beer."
"What? I'm going to have a talk with your mother about your upbringing. You know very well that we don't allow our students to have-"
"Boot Beer!" I said, interrupting Ellen.
“Boot Beer? Oh, you mean Root beer. That entirely different, however, my research indicates that they don’t have Root Beer in France. So, I don’t think that’s something Sally would ask for.”
“How bout rrape?”
“Rape?” she questioned alarmingly.
“Grr — rrape.”
"Gr? OH, you mean grape, as in grape juice."
I replied by smiling, nodding, then laying my head on Ellen's shoulder.
Ellen shook her head as she picked up her PDA. After sending a note to Kimberley to stop by the kitchen, she called and placed my request.
"Well, now that your lunch order has been placed, should we move to one of the couches while we wait?
I smiled and nodded.
A moment later, Ellen asked, "Are you going to get off my lap?"
I shook my head, giggling.
"No? So how are we supposed to go wait on the couch if you don't get off - Wait, you want me to carry you?
Again, I smiled and nodded.
"I don't think so, young lady. You have two perfectly good legs, now hop down," she commanded with a chuckle.
Putting on my sad-puppy-dog face, I whimpered softly.
"That's not going to get you anywhere. I'm not your mother, and I'm not Sally's mother, so you can save your sad face for when it will do you some good."
"Just pwat-us-sing" I said as I slid off her lap.
"Practicing? Well, I doubt a two-year-old would know the word practicing, let alone how to mispronounce it so properly."
We were both amused by Ellen's little joke. After all, how does one mispronounce any word properly?
I returned to the couch I'd been sleeping on, dragging the blanket behind me. Ellen sat beside me and we chatted peacefully while waiting for the others to arrive. I didn't have too much trouble talking as Sally, as long as I thought about what I was doing. If I stopped thinking about it and relaxed, Matilda's words came out instead of Sally’s.
'This is going to be harder than I thought.'
As our small group of visitors arrived, Angel was pushing Mary Beth's wheelchair with my lunch was on her lap with Kimberley bringing up the rear. It was at that moment I realized how utterly ungrateful and selfish I'd been the last few days. I'd been so wrapped up in what a hardship and embarrassment being Sally was going to be on me, I hadn't once stopped to think about who would be taking care of Mary Beth.
Dropping out of character, I rushed to Mary Beth's side, "I'm so sorry, Mary Beth."
"Sorry for what?" she asked, surprised by my outburst.
"I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish and only thinking about me the last few days. I'm supposed to be taking care of you."
"And if you weren't doing this to help others, I'd probably be mad at you. But, I guess I can share you for a while. Just remembered, I want you back for Christmas. Cus after Christmas is when we'll start our regular classes and I'll really need you then."
"It's a deal."
"Right. Now, until then ... I didn't know Sally had such an advanced vocabulary," Mary Beth jokingly scolded.
I smiled as I shook my head. Closing my eyes, I let my head drop a bit while I fought to remember more of the details of Sally's character.
Raising my head, I started hopping up and down, "Nummy peezza. Me have peezza. Me have peezza."
"Yes Sally, the pizza is for you, and the grape juice," Kimberley giggled, trying to calm me down.
“Nummy. Me like rrape juice.”
“All right Sally, settle down. Go sit at the coffee table and I’ll bring you your pizza,” Kimberley instructed.
“O — Key,” I replied, hopping to the table and plopping myself down on the floor. In that position, the edge of the table was just below my chin. ‘Gee, having a padded bottom may not be so bad, that's if I could keep it dry.’
Kimberley set a plate down for me with two small pieces of pizza. Well, it was really some pizza sauce, hamburger, sliced olives, and cheese on both halves of a hoagie bun. She also set down a large plastic tumbler filled with white grape juice and a straw, just within my reach.
While Ellen and Kimberley were talking about how to introduce her and Angel as my caregivers, Angel and Mary Beth were talking about Black Bart, and how and why she and Rachael had been attacked. It was very hard to not join into one or both conversations. I stopped eating several times to listen, dying to jump in.
I gritted my teeth at not being able to join in and reached for my juice. 'Boy did someone goof! They set a glass of juice in front of a supposed two-year-old with a straw and no lid.'
Acting as any two-year-old would, I picked up the glass with both hands, carefully lifting it over my plate. I opened my mouth and tilted the glass to try and get the straw into it. Well, the straw hit my nose and some of the juice went in my mouth, mostly the juice went everywhere. The only good part was the juice washed most of the smeared pizza sauce off my face. Of course, I started squealing.
Kimberley rushed over and picked me up; causing the juice that had pooled in my lap to flood onto the coffee table, soaking what was left of my pizza. I guess I’d eaten enough, for a late lunch.
"Well Matilda, you sure made a quick study of those DVDs," Angel commented amid her laughter.
"Angel, she only answers to Sally, and she has managed to make a mess of my office," Ellen added while shaking her head. "Would you take Mary Beth to their rooms and retrieve another outfit for Sally? On second thought, you'd better make that two. Who knows what may happen during, or even before dinner."
"Sure thing, Ellen. Come on, Mary Beth," Angel agreed as she and Mary Beth headed for the wheelchair and the door.
All this time Kimberly had been holding me, dripping juice, at arms length. "What should I do with her until they get back?"
"What would Arabelle do under these circumstances?" Ellen replied.
Kimberley sighed, "I, I don't know. I guess I've got more homework to do."
Giggling at the sight before her, Ellen offered some advice. "I'd recommend setting her down just outside the wet zone. Then strip off everything that's wet. While she's in such a state of undress you might as well check her diaper to see if she needs changing, and take care of that if needed. After you've done that, wrap her in the blanket that’s on the couch, behind you. You can read to her from the books on the end-table until her dry clothes arrive."
As Sally, I wouldn't care about, or even have paid attention to what Ellen had proposed. As Matilda, I was just a little shocked that she would suggest such a thing. To show my alarm, I scowled at Ellen in protest. Ellen's response to my scowl was to raise a single eyebrow, much as any Vulcan would respond when their logic was questioned.
In no time at all, Kimberley had my clothes off and the blanket wrapped around me, fortunately I didn’t need changing. What I found most comforting was the way she went about it. She started by putting the blanket around my shoulders. Even though I was dancing around a little, Kimberley managed to hold the blanket in place with one hand while undressing me with the other.
While we waited for Angel and Mary Beth to return, Kimberley held me on her lap, wrapped snugly, and read me some fairly tales.
'I could get used to this part. Well, not the diaper and I wouldn't want to be held like this every day. But, once in a while I wouldn't mind relaxing and snuggling with Mary Beth.'
Mary Beth and Angel took just a little longer to return than I anticipated. It seems they stopped by the cafeteria to get me some more juice and some fruit. I honestly don't know where they found a sippy-cup for me, but they found one somewhere. It was a bit small, but who am I to argue.
After I was dressed, some plans needed to be finalized. Mostly they concerned the announcement to be made at dinner and how much interaction I would have with the rest of the students. The discussion also included the sleeping arrangements in the new suite. The group agreed that Matilda needed to be part of the discussion, not Sally. So for about an hour I was allowed to enjoy more intelligent conversation skills.
Just before the four of us went to dinner, Mother Nature decided to pay me another little visit. It was hard to force myself to urinate in the diaper. At least it happened in Ellen's office, not after we'd arrived in the cafeteria. I let Kimberley know I was wet, using the code we’d worked out the night before. She was as gentle as possible; she laid me on the floor behind Ellen's large couch where we were out of sight of everyone else. Even though I was uncomfortable with the situation, Kimberley quickly attended to the task at hand. She even worked the pull up into place while I was laying down to prevent any chance of my being exposed to the others, by standing up to change my wet pull up. After she repacked the diaper bag, she picked me up and rocked me gently until my sniffles stopped.
"I'm sorry, Kimberley," I whispered.
"Sorry for what?"
"For making such a fuss about this."
"It’s OK, I understand. After the request for someone to take care of you was made and it was announced that I’d been selected, Beca came to me, you know she really cares about you. She gave me some information about you that’s not in your file, telling me how you would react to being exposed. I'm sure that in time you'll get used to me."
"I hope so. We'll never fool anyone this way."
"Listen, I'll see to it that I'm the only one changing you, all right?" I forced a smile and nodded. "You ready for dinner?"
"I suppose so. I guess I need to get back into character, don't I?" I stated as I stood up.
"It wouldn't make much sense for Mr. Peterson to announce that you’re suffering from a post-hypnotic-trance and acting like a two-year-old, if you aren't," Ellen agreed.
"O … K. Me sewwy me make bubble."
"Make bubble?" Ellen questioned.
"She means, she's sorry she causing so much trouble," Kimberly translated.
"Oh. I still think we need to work on her vocabulary skills. A two-year-old would only be using two to three word sentences."
"We'll work on that," Kimberley assured Ellen.
"Come on Munchkin, let's go get some dinner," Mary Beth said as she sat in her wheelchair.
"Ohh - kaa," I went for the handles to push her.
"Hey, that's my job now," Angel said while putting her hands on top of mine.
"MayBee my friend. Me help," I complained as I pushed towards the door.
"MayBee?" Angel asked.
"That's my nickname," Mary Beth confessed.
"Okay, Munchkin, you can help push MayBee to the cafeteria," Angel relented.
"Goody! Me helping," I responded with glee.
"I'm not too sure about this, Ellen," Angel complained. "I think she's going to need more than one babysitter."
Mary Beth countered with a smile, as she turned to look back over her shoulder. "That's okay, she has three; you, Kimberley, and me."
As if on cue, I turned to face Angel and stuck out my tongue.
"Sally!" Mary Beth scolded, "What have I told you about that tongue?"
"Dat is cute?" I sheepishly replied.
"Yes, it’s cute, but you're supposed to keep it in your mouth, remember?"
"Me sewwy." I replied sheepishly.
After the giggling stopped, Ellen said she would schedule me some time with Miss Baker, complaining that I sounded like an adult that was trying to sound like a child. That was before she chased the four of us out of her office, mumbling something about a whole day wasted, and needing to get some work done.
I let Angel take over pushing Mary Beth just before we entered the cafeteria. After all, it's a three minute walk from the administration building to the building with the cafeteria and classrooms; that's about three times the attention span for the average two-year-old.
Our timing was impeccable; we arrived as the last of the Black Sheep were sitting down. Mr. Peterson was sitting at the other year A table. From the look on his face I could tell he wanted us to be seated before he made any announcement. With Kimberley and Angel's help we had our dinners, and were seated in record time. The problem was keeping me seated for the announcements.
Mr. Peterson was very convincing as he relayed the cover story, "Good evening everyone, as you know we had some unexpected excitement this morning during breakfast. As I'm sure you can tell, the situation with Matilda remains unchanged. As far as I understand it, Matilda is under the influence of a post hypnotic suggestion. It seems that Mr. Mortensen didn't appreciate being on the receiving end of a nasty bruise. Subsequently he left our little munchkin as ... well, a little munchkin, literally. According to the information that Ellen has been able to piece together, Matilda believes she is a two-year-old munchkin by the name of Sally. Unfortunately, we've not been able to locate or contact Mr. Mortensen or his assistant. We have no idea how long this will last. All we know is that Sally says she needs to see the Wizard of Oz.
“This brings us to our two guests. With Mary Beth still recovering from the injuries she received before joining us, and the rule about study partners never being completely undressed with each other; it was decided that we would have to make some unusual arrangements. After making the situation known to the older students, Kimberley and Angel volunteered to step in as big sisters and help take care of our two young friends.
“Until such time as we can get Matilda returned to her normal, mischievous, self; the four of them will act as a four person study partnership. This isn't exactly new for us. We did have a three-person partnership a few years back. However, a four-person partnership has never been done before, but under the current circumstances it is necessary. We've made special arrangements for a four-room suite in the administration building. We know that everyone here will do everything they can to help, and we thank you. Are there any question?"
It was amazingly quiet for some reason; the only sounds were the fans in the ventilation system and my random chatter. Mr. Peterson continued standing, waiting longer than usual for questions. I expected there would have been about ten questions asked before the first hand went up.
'Boy it’s hard to pretend you're not the center of attention when you know that you are.'
All totaled, there were twelve questions asked, mostly concerning me and the upcoming trip. There were a couple about how I was to be treated, and how I would affect the other school events, before the trip.
As everyone was finishing their dinner and leaving, all of year A came by to chat with Mary Beth, Angel, and Kimberly, and to offer their help and support. Talking with me wasn’t easy for anyone. It was especially hard trying not to answer questions that as Sally I wouldn't know the answer to. After everyone left, Mr. Peterson came by to offer us his support, and promised to help in any way he was able.
“So which room is mine?” Mary Beth asked as we entered our new suite by following the directions on her PDA.
“I don’t know,” Angel replied as I started bouncing around the common room, peeking into the various doors.
“Well, according to these directions-” Kimberly was saying.
“Mine room! Mine, my room!” I cried out. Through the second door I opened, I saw a bed made up with a Wizard of Oz bedspread and Nellie sitting on the pillow. I ran inside and climbed onto the bed. Picking up Nellie, I hugged her tight as I started jumping and jumping and jumping.
* * * To Be Continued * * *
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 22
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
The best laid plans …
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 22
By Penny Reed Cardon
D Day - Minus one.
"Wake up, little one," Kimberley teased as she gently shook me, waking me much earlier than normal. "It's time to go and say goodbye to the other students."
I tried kicking her, but being that I was still under the blankets my kicking didn't do any good. So I rolled away and frowned.
Kimberley gently rolled me back so I was facing her, "What's all this pouting for? You still don't like to be referred to as 'little one,' do you?"
"NOO!" I eloquently replied, followed by showing off what some have called a cute little tongue.
Laughing at my antics, Kimberly prodded, "Come on now, crawl out of that bed. We've got to hurry if we're going to say goodbye to Mary Beth and the others. We didn’t have to get up as early as everyone else, to get breakfast before leaving, but you do want to see them off and say goodbye, don't you?"
I nodded and replied, "Uh, ha. Give MayBee hugs wiff kissies." I immediately started struggling, trying to get out from under the tightly tucked blankets. At home, Sally slept in a large crib, but when traveling they used oversized blankets and tucked them tightly, to keep her from falling out of bed. I spent many sleepless nights, while I was getting used to being so confined.
"All right, take it easy, I'll get you out," she chuckled, as she pulled back the blankets.
As soon as I was free, I rolled to the edge of the bed and slid over the side. In my haste to get off the bed, I ended up hitting the floor head first. This action was naturally accompanied with a verbal expression of displeasure appropriate for a two-year-old. ... All right, I started crying, okay.
Kimberley dropped to the floor and pulled me into her lap, hugging me close for a moment. Then she examined my head, all the while trying to calm me down. "Oh, it's all right. Hush now. It's just a little bump. A big girl like you, making so much noise over such a little bump, my, my."
I only cried for a moment, being more startled than hurt, and imitating Sally’s actions. After I stopped making noise I returned Kimberly's hug.
‘There are some advantages to being two, or acting like you’re two, everyone wants to give you hugs.’
Kimberley rose up to her knees, pulling me up to my feet, "All right, enough of that. Raise your arms so I can take off your nightgown."
As I was stepping back I snuck in a kiss to Kimberley's nose, followed by giggling.
"Oh, you rascal." She teasingly tapped my nose in return.
I was giggling at successfully sneaking in a kiss, as I raised my arms. After pulling off my nightgown, Kimberly helped me lay across the bed. After removing my nighttime diaper she helped me back up and handed me a pull up to put on. After two weeks of being undressed by Kimberley, I had almost become accustomed to it. Raising my arms she pulled a cute Munchkin style dress over my head. Four buttons up the back of the dress, some heavy white socks with lace, some clunky, black, Mary Jane’s and I was ready to face the world, or at least Mary Beth and my friends.
Hand in hand we went through the door into the suite common room. Well, sorta hand in hand, I was pulling Kimberley along. I didn't want to miss saying goodbye to Mary Beth.
"Hold on," she complained, "we need to get our coats, its going to be cold outside."
Kimberley got our coats, while I danced my little Munchkin dance, as I waiting impatiently by the door. As Sally isn't permitted to open doors, I’m not allowed to either. Soon we were moving again, hand in hand. We descended the three flights of stairs to the main lobby of the administration building. As we reached the main doors, Kimberly stopped to put on her coat. She was snugly buttoning mine as she cautioned me, saying "Now remember, the sidewalks may have some ice on them so no running, no skipping, and no dancing. You have to hold my hand, okay?”
I knew there wouldn't be any ice, because I knew the sidewalks were heated. So, I defiantly stomped my feet and shook my head, saying, "Noo! Noo! … Noo!” The pigtails of my wig were flying back and forth, slapping my nose and cheeks.
"No? No what?”
"Noo ice," I protested.
"No ice? What do you mean, no ice?"
"Noo ice on side walk."
Kimberley put her hands on her hips and looked down at me. "That looks and sounds like Sally, but if I didn't know better I'd say Matilda was trying to tell me something?" she scolded.
I stopped shaking my head and plopped myself down, sitting crossed legged, with my head down. I almost started crying.
Kimberley knelt down and gently lifted my chin. "It's all right. I know how hard this is for you. I'm just trying to help."
"I knoow you help. Is just so hard," I mumbled.
"I know it's hard. I've got the easy job. I just have to be the big sister. You just have to remember, if Sally wouldn't know it, you can't say it."
"I knoows. I knoows. Me for gets sometime."
"That's all you have to do, you just have to forget how to be Matilda."
"Like me for gets, how use ... potty?" I whispered.
"What do you mean, forget how to use the potty?"
"I knoows when I wet. Can not ... make it stop," I squeaked out as I started sniffling.
"Oh dear … Matilda, I’m so sorry!" Moving to a nearby chair, she pulled me onto lap and held me close. "Have you told anyone else?"
Hugging Kimberley gave some comfort, which helped me regain control. Sadly, I looked into her eyes and shook my head.
"Well, we'll have to have a talk with Ellen about this, later, is that alright?"
I quietly nodded in reply.
"All right. Now, do you still want to say goodbye to Mary Beth and the others?"
Struggling with sniffles and wiping my nose with my sleeve, I nodded.
"All right, let’s dry your eyes, cheeks, and your nose. There may not be any ice on the sidewalks, but having your eyes freeze shut would be really bad."
Her joke made me giggle, as she gently wiped my eyes.
"There you go, nice and dry. We better hurry; it's almost time for the busses to leave."
Leaving the building, we headed for the parking lot, where the four busses were being loaded. As we got closer I saw Mary Beth. I broke away from Kimberley and ran up behind Mary Beth, throwing my arms around her. If it weren't for the support from the others around her, who saw me coming, we both would have ended up tumbling off into a snow bank.
"Well, there's my Munchkin," Mary Beth exclaimed, after the shock of being tackled wore off. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming to say goodbye."
"Course I come," I blurted. ”Give hugs wiff kisses. Me gunna miss MayBee."
"Oh, I'm going to miss you too. I really wish you were going on the bus with us. It would sure make the trip lots more fun.
"I want go wiff MayBee. But they say noo. Make me very sad."
"I know, it makes me sad too. Thirty-six hours on a bus without a Munchkin is going to make for a very long trip. You always make something funny happen."
"You make fun at me?" I asked, pouting slightly.
"No, of course not. We've been through so much that I wouldn't make fun of you. Although, I'm not so sure of the Black Sheep, they’re still unpredictable. It’s just that ... well, when you're with The Munchkin, suddenly you’re in places that you never dreamed of and quick as you can say ‘Bob’s your uncle,’ the most unusual things begin to happen."
I looked at Mary Beth for a moment, as my mind worked out her reference. I smiled as responded, "May-we Poppie my nanny once."
We giggled and hugged for the last few moments before Mary Beth had to get on her bus. The first and second busses had already pulled out as we said our last farewells. Mr. Peterson, in his quest for variety, had put years A and H on the last bus for this trip.
As the third bus pulled out, Mr. Peterson stepped off the fourth bus and came over to where Kimberley and I were standing. Bending down, he took my hand in his, saying, "So long Sally. I'll see you in Quebec. Believe it or not, I'm looking forward to having Matilda back. You be a good girl for Arabelle.”
“I all ways good girl,” I snickered.
“Well, I guess that depends on your definition,” he said with a smile, straitening up. “Arabelle, you take good care of our Munchkin."
"Of course, I will, Mr. Peterson. We'll see you in a couple of days."
"Right. By now. You two have fun on the airplane."
"Bye, bye. See you soon." I waved to him as he got on the bus. Of course, I was also waving to Mary Beth and the rest of the Black Sheep as well.
After the busses were gone, Kimberley took me to the cafeteria for breakfast. Being that the cafeteria was deserted, we headed for the kitchen.
It had been a while since I'd been in the kitchen, not since I'd found out about the no contact rule and we'd raided the ice cream freezer. But, I was still impressed with its size and appearance, all white tiles and polished, silver, metal and a lot bigger than what was needed for this school.
"Okay Munchkin, what do you want for breakfast?" Kimberly inquired.
"Peezza!"
"Pizza? Again? You always want pizza."
"Is nummmmmy." I replied as I danced around one of the islands, running down the middle of the kitchen.
“Of course it’s yummy, but you can’t eat pizza all the time.
“I can try,” I replied with a grin while spinning around.
“You can try that on someone else. Right now it time for breakfast and I'm going to find some breakfast food in this kitchen someplace.” Kimberly announced as she opened one of the big refrigerators.
"Good morning!" Ellen announced as she entered the kitchen. "What kind of mischief are you two into, so early in the morning."
"Just trying to rummage up some breakfast for me and the Munchkin," Kimberley replied.
"Peeeezza," I called out while dashing around the corner of a steel table with my arms extended. Unfortunately I caught the handle of a pot that was stacked on the table. The cascade that followed brought about a dozen pots crashing to the floor.
Once my ears stopped ringing, I looked over at Kimberley and Ellen, "Me sorry. Me fix." I apologized excitedly, as I grabbed the nearest pot and started wading through the pile towards the table. With unstable footing, I slipped while stepping over a large pot, landing abruptly on my padded bottom, scattering the remaining pots further. Of course, the pot I was carrying went flying.
"Arabelle, why don't you take our little human tornado out to romp in the snow, for awhile?" Ellen pleaded. "I don't think she can do much damage out there. I'll let you know when breakfast is ready."
"You're going to fix breakfast?" Kimberley wondered aloud.
To which Ellen scoffed, "I may be over forty, but I'm quite capable of preparing breakfast for the four of us."
"Four?"
"Yes. Mr. Black will be joining us."
I stuck out my tongue and blew raspberries, eloquently adding my two cents worth.
"Come on Sally," Kimberley chuckled, lifting me out of the pile of pots. "Let's get out of here so Ellen can do her thing."
We slipped our coats back on and went back outside. Heading away from the administration building, Kimberley took me to where some of the students had built a snow maze. Letting go of my hand, I skipped off into the maze. After I'd been darting around for a while, my PDA beeped telling me I had a new message.
'How do they expect me to stay in character as Sally and answer messages on this thing?' I wondered as I pulled out my PDA, to find a simple message from Ellen.
>> Breakfast is ready. >>
I giggled as I typed a reply. I knew Sally didn’t type or use a PDA, but I still thought my reply was fun, and keeping in character.
<< Me hide. You seek. <<
It didn't take Ellen long to reply.
>> Breakfast now. Play later. >>
Not wanting to have Ellen upset with me I turned around, to start back towards where I'd left Kimberley. To my surprise, she was just rounding a corner with her PDA in hand.
'Darn that silly locator system. I know I’m not supposed to play with it, I didn’t know that Kimberley had free access.'
Both Ellen and Mr. Black were waiting for us to return to the cafeteria. Ellen had prepared what had become my favorite breakfast; eggs, hash browns, sausage, black olives, green onions, and cheese, all scrambled together, covered with country gravy.
'I wonder if they keep track of what everyone eats. It's obviously that they've been keeping track of me. I wonder -"
"Good morning Sally, how are you feeling this morning?" Mr. Black casually asked, after we were seated.
"I hungry n cold. Me play in snow." I replied with a smile, proudly adding that I'd been playing outside.
"You were playing in snow? All alone?"
"Bellie wiff me ... sorta."
"Arabelle was sort of with you?" he wondered aloud.
"We were out in the maze. Sally skipped ahead, as she usually does. I don't worry about her in the snow. She can't get lost and there's nothing she can break," Kimberley giggled.
"You're right about not breaking snow," Ellen agreed while shaking her head. "Stainless pots are another story."
Kimberley started to ask a question, before being interrupted, "You mean that some-"
"Two of them have good size dents in them. I don't know what the kitchen staff will say when they return from their little vacation." We could hear the smile in Ellen’s voice. Ellen and Kimberley went on to discuss what I'd been doing the last few days, as well as arranging a visit later.
Mr. Black didn't join in their conversation. He quietly ate his breakfast, smiled, and occasionally shook his head as he listened.
After breakfast it was time for my last visit with Miss Baker.
“Good morning, Arabelle, Sally. How are you feeling this morning?” Miss Baker inquired.
“I feel good.”
'Why is everyone asking me how I feel? Would it make any difference if I said I was feeling terrible? Oh, wait, Sally wouldn't know terrible. How about blah. I wonder why Miss Baker didn’t join us for breakfast. Maybe she had breakfast with the rest of the school."
After the day's lesson, Miss Baker surprised me by asking, "Remember when I told you, about the people in our lives?"
Obviously not something Sally would know; I thought for a moment before I nodded.
"You are one of those special people, Matilda. Someone who comes into someone's life for a reason. At least for Sally and Arabelle you are someone special. I know they will be grateful for what you're doing. They may never know what you have sacrificed in their behalf, and that is what makes your sacrifice so meaningful. That's what makes you special."
‘Well, that gave me something to think about before and during lunch.’
After lunch, we had a chat with Ellen. I didn’t feel much like talking, but after hearing Kimberley’s report about my problem and worry this morning, she was very sympathetic and explained about how muscles that aren't used get weak. She compared me to Rachael in that she has lots of muscles that will need rehabilitation. Ellen had talked with Dr. Harris and she assured me that after we got back, it would take some time, but we would be able to retrain my weakened muscles.
Departure — Day — December 14, 2004
"Come on my little Munchkin, time to get up,” Kimberly proclaimed, as she woke me.
“Still seepie,” I mumbled, rolling away.
“I know it’s way early than normal,” she apologized. “But, we need to get you up, changed, and ready for breakfast. We're going on a long trip today, remember?"
Kimberly had gotten so used to me being Sally that she always spoke to me as if I were two. Of course, over the last two weeks, I'd almost completely let go, as I fell into the role of Sally. The hard part was not saying things that Sally wouldn’t know.
"I member. We go on air-pain," I replied with a yawn.
"That's right, we’re going to ride on a big airplane."
"MayBee n Nellie come too?"
"No, MayBee left yesterday morning on the bus. You gave her a hugs and kisses, remember?"
"On yeah, I member now. But, Nellie come?" I ended with a worried sound.
“I’m afraid not. Nellie will have to wait here for you.”
"Why?" I asked sadly.
"It's just another of the school rules, special friends don't go on field trips."
"But Nellie be berry sad," I pleaded.
"I'm sorry, but she'll have to wait here. I tell you what, why don’t we take Nellie into MayBee’s room? Nellie and Samantha can wait together, is that OK?”
“Mantha not go wiff MayBee?” I asked.
“No, Samantha is on MayBee’s bed, waiting for her to come home.”
“All right. Nellie and Mantha best friends. They be good together,” I conceded.
“Ok, now that that’s settled; let's get you ready to travel."
It wasn't long before I was dressed, fed and we were in one of the small vans heading for the Salt Lake International Airport. The shuttle bus driver from the parking lot to the terminal was sure grumpy. He wouldn't let me dance in the aisle; even though we were the only ones on the bus.
After the driver got upset, Mr. Black asked, "While we're traveling, I think it would draw less attention if you acted like a normal girl, could you do that?"
"I not normal girl ... me special," I smiled. "Sides, normal girl not need pull-up under dress."
Mr. Black didn't seem to be amused, as he looked at me rather sternly.
"All right. You right about not want ah-ten-chin. I not act like Sally till you say OH-Kay. But still need talk like Sally. Hard for me change talk on and off."
As the airport terminal was pretty crowded, Kimberley kept a tight hold on me, so I couldn't slip away, although slipping away was the last thing on my mind, so it wasn’t really needed. I was more interested in the electronic terminals, where Mr. Black was busy checking us in. I wasn't surprised to be listed as a child. What surprised me was that I was listed as Sally Black. I wanted to get out my PDA and do a little looking around. Even if all I had was the travel PDA, I could still have had lots of fun. Unfortunately, I was being closely guarded so there was no chance for a little PDA play.
After checking in and leaving our luggage to be scanned at the TSA checkpoint, we spent the rest of the day waiting in another line. This one was moving ever so slowly towards the security screening; zigzagging back and forth as the line slowly moved forward. Okay, it wasn't all day but it sure seemed like it. It’s a good thing I can turn off my Sally personality. From what I know about her, being confined and motionless for twenty minutes would have her screaming with frustration.
Just before boarding the plane, Kimberley took me into a family restroom so we could change my pull up. Okay, yes it was wet, after all I'd only been changed once since leaving the school, five hours before.
The plane ride to Chicago was really fun, but those tiny on-board restrooms are not fun and very cramped when you try to squeeze two people in. I got to sit by the window, so I could watch outside as the world flew past. Ellen was in the middle seat and Kimberley in the aisle seat. Mr. Black was one row up, on the other side of the aisle, next to a very large woman with bad gas; I don't think he enjoyed sitting there at all.
We had to wait at the Chicago airport for about an hour before boarding the connecting flight. The flight to Quebec seemed to take forever, although it was only three hours. But we’d already been on a plane for four hours, which made the second flight seem longer. I don’t know if I’d have made it, if we didn’t have that break in Chicago.
At the airport in Quebec we had to wait in another line, this time it was customs. Ellen was first; they asked her lots of questions and wanted to see her passport. It was at that moment that I got a little nervous … I didn't have a passport. I subsequently tried to hide behind Ellen.
The customs agent smiled at me and asked how old I was. I didn't want to say anything, slipping farther behind Ellen. She apologized, explaining that I'm very shy around people I don't know. When the agent asked for my passport I thought I was going to be in big trouble. To my surprise, and relief, Mr. Black produced one from his computer bag.
'I didn't know I had a passport,” was my initial shocked thoughts, then I became curious. “Wait a second, doesn't a passport have your picture, when did they take my picture? Isn’t there some paperwork involved with a passport? Shouldn’t I have had to sign something? Where did they get mine? Can the school do this? Wait, they must be able to get us passports, with all the traveling they do. But, is this one in my name or Sally’s? How involved is the S. P. A.? I really need to do some more research when I get home.' My last thoughts made me tingle with excitement.
After returning my passport to Mr. Black, they talked to Kimberley for a couple of minutes and then asked for her passport, which Mr. Black also produced. A few minutes later, we’d cleared customs. Ellen, Kimberly and I followed the colored line on the floor to baggage claim, where we found our bags. Mr. Black had gone to the rental car place. We met him there as he was signing the paperwork and was given the keys to a nice car. After what seemed like ages we were FINALLY on our way to the hotel.
The first thing I wanted, after getting to our room, was to get into a dry diaper! Kimberley and I had worked out a signal so I could tell her when I needed to be changed. While we were at the Manor I hadn't spent more than a few minutes wet or messy. Traveling, while it was fun, was a pain in the butt or rather a pain on my butt. There hadn’t always been a private place where we could change my pull up when I needed to.
'If this keeps up I'm going to need more from Dr. Harris than help retraining muscles. Imagine, me having to explain diaper rash to the nurses or Mary Beth; now that will be embarrassing.'
After my needs were taken care of and we were settled into our suite, Mr. Black called us together to fill us in on the rest the details.
"Now that we're here, one of our people will contact Jean-Paul to finalize the details of the exchange. Unless we hear differently, the two of you will join Sally and Arabelle in the large restroom just outside the hotel's main ballroom, at 1830 hours. The ballroom is where the costume party is being held. The restroom is public, but it has several handicapped stalls, one is extra large. Once the girls arrive, the four of you will use the handicapped stall as a changing room to exchange costumes. Some of our people will be in the restroom to escort Sally and Arabelle out of the hotel. Kimberley, Arabelle will give you the keycard for their room, that's where you'll find Jean-Paul and Suzette. Any questions?"
"We change costumes?" I nervously inquired. I'd assumed that we would just be wearing the same costumes.
"I'm sorry, but yes. Suzette couldn't tell us exactly what the girls would be wearing, so we couldn't duplicate their costumes. For the deception to be successful you'll need to exchange costumes. We'll have as many of our people in and around the restroom as we can to make sure you're all protected."
"What about our PDAs?" Kimberley wondered.
"Neither of the girls have PDAs, so I'm afraid you'll have to leave yours with Ellen."
'I already knew that part. Tell me something I don't know.'
Mr. Black continued, "Arabelle, however, does have a cell phone that she always has with her, for emergencies. I have one for you; it's the same model, but with a few modifications." He removed a phone from his computer bag; turned it on and handed it to Kimberley.
"Cool! My first cell phone," she exclaimed, acting as excited as any normal teenager would, accompanied by chuckles from the adults in the room.
'What's she getting excited about? She knows that the new PDAs have phones built into them.'
"It’s only on loan, I want it back after this is over. Remember; don't confuse this one with Arabelle's when you’re exchanging her bag for your basket. This phone has some features that hers doesn't."
"Like what?" Kimberley wondered aloud.
"There's a secondary transmitter installed, so we will know where you are, all the time. Even if the phone is turned off the secondary transmitter will still be active. Also there's a scanner that will detect wireless listening devices."
"A bug sniffer?" I asked with surprise.
"Pretty much, it will detect the most common listening devices. There wasn't much space in there to work with. You activate the scanner by dialing one, ten times. If it detects anything you’ll see an arrow on the screen. It will point towards the left or right, or straight ahead, guiding you to the device."
Mr. Black pulled something small out of his bag and tossed it to me. Then he showed Kimberley how to use the transmitter detector, which accurately found the device in my hand.
"Okay, but why should I need that?"
"We know that the security team watching the girls doesn't always play by the rules. We don't know if they bug their rooms or not. We’re just trying to cover all the bases. Be sure you don't mix up phones when you're exchanging bags with Arabelle."
"Exchanging bags?" Kimberley asked.
"Yes, bags. Arabelle carries a diaper bag that's about twelve inches square. It's a red and gold pattern in Chinese silk. That's so she has someplace for Sally's things, that doesn't look like a diaper bag. The basket we've got for you to carry goes with your costume, a wicker basket with a red checkerboard tablecloth liner."
"What's my costume?"
There was a long pause while Ellen and Mr. Black looked at each other. After what seemed like an eternity, to a two-year-old, Ellen answered Kimberley's question, "Almira Gulch."
"WHAT? I'm the WITCH? Sally isn't going to like holding hands with the witch, even if she is her big sister."
"Oh, no. Almira isn't a witch, just a nasty old spinster," Ellen added.
"Besides, the only other option we came up with, where there was something to carry Sally's needed items, was an eighteen-hundred’s gold miner," Mr. Black continued, defending their choice of costume.
“How about Aunt Em with a picnic basket?” Kimberley asked sarcastically.
"What my costume?" I nervously asked.
Ellen jumping on that question without a moment’s hesitation, "Oh, I think you're going to love your costume. It's a long gown made of pink satin, covered in a sheer lace, with full puffy sleeves. And to top it off there's a lovely jeweled crown."
"Sound like princess dress."
"A very lovely princess dress, you always make such a lovely princess," she added.
"But I Munchkin," I complained.
"Of course you are, a Munchkin Princess."
"I never see Munchkin Princess."
"Just because you haven't seen a Munchkin Princess, doesn't mean there couldn't be one or two, does it?"
"Guess not. Me make good princess?"
"What a silly question," Kimberley giggled. "You have been and will always make a beautiful princess."
"Still not sure. Never hear of Munchkin Princess."
"Well, I'm afraid the only other option would be to dress you as a member of the Lullaby League; those dresses are pretty short. I don't know if that dress would completely cover your pull up?" Ellen offered.
Sally might have enjoyed being in a short dress for a change, and she wouldn't care about her diaper showing. As for me, I took a couple of moments to think about my options, before I stood and pulled my dress up, revealing my knees. Looking at my gangly legs and knees, I shook my head and let go of my dress. As my dress fell back into place, around my ankles, I looked up.
"Things to member. Cute tongue, keep in mouth ... Ukky boy knees, keep hidden," I said sarcastically, while pointing towards my knees. This broke everyone up, not that I’d planned it that way. "I like to be princess," I continued with a smile.
Kimberley and I went back to our room, and quickly changed into our costumes. We soon found ourselves sitting around with nothing to do but wait; not one of my better qualities. Kimberley was playing the part of a typical teenager, listening to some music while she waited. I was glad that before we left the Manor I’d created a secure directory on the hotel’s server. I’d uploaded the DVDs of Sally, I linked in via my PDA and spent our waiting time reviewing and preparing.
Ellen knocked on the door frame, "It's time to go, are you two ready?"
Fifteen seconds later, all evidence of my directory was gone. As I left the bedroom, I tried to show that I wasn’t nervous, "Guess me ready. Time to play now?"
"Not yet," Mr. Black replied. "You don't want to attract the attention of the security team. Once you and Sally change costumes, you can dance and play as much as you want."
"Good thing. I saved lots of en-o-gees. Need to let them out."
At that moment there was a knock on the door. Mr. Black admitted three people in costume, whom he introduced as school helpers. "I thought you should all meet. That way, if there's a problem, you will know who to contact, and trust. In any event, this is Jacqueline, Abigail, and-"
"And Regina," I interrupted, almost dropping out of character. "Saaaweee," I overly exaggerated my apology, for interrupting, again.
Mr. Black glared at me for a moment before he continued, "Correct ... However, the only one that Sally knows is Jacqueline. She and Regina will be in the restroom to escort Arabelle and Sally to safety. Abigail will be outside the restroom. Kimberley, she'll call your cell phone to let you know when Sally and Arabelle are ready to make the exchange. Does anyone have any questions?” He paused and looked at each of us, "No? All right, time for you two to give Ellen your PDAs. One last item that we’ve recently been informed of, Sally wears a necklace. It’s a gold medallion with an angel engraved on it. It was given to her by their pastor after her accident, for good luck. I'm told she never takes it off."
"I not see in DVDs," I stated.
"I didn't see it either, but Suzette has assured us it’s there, under Sally’s dress," he added, presenting me with a silver chain supporting the medallion.
Kimberley took the necklace and put it on me, as I kept my hair out of the way. Tucking the chain and medallion under my dress, I looked up and smiled, "There go, all gone."
"I think that covers everything, time to be on our way. Good luck to us all," Mr. Black concluded as he opened the door.
Kimberley held out her hand and asked me, "Are you ready to go to a real party?"
I smiled and nodded, as I ignored her reference to Titanic and took her hand. I felt like we needed Beca, Lizzy and Mary Beth, singing an intro for us as we walked out the door and down the hall to the elevator. The carpet was yellow and we were after all 'Off to see the Wizard.'
The ride in the elevator, down to the ballroom, was fairly fast. In no time at all we were being pushed through the main entrance to the ballroom by a horde of people in a variety of costumes, all of which seemed to tower over me. The ballroom was huge. The volume of noise produced by all those people combined with the music coming from somewhere, or was it everywhere, was deafening.
I'd only been scared a few times in my life, I mean really scared. This wasn’t a top of the list scared, but it was without a doubt in the top ten. At that moment I think I would have rather faced Black Bart or my Dad rather than that swirling mass of humanity. My only recourse was to grab hold onto Kimberley and hang on. And hang on I did; with both hands, as if my life depended on it.
Kimberley must have thought I was trying to pinch her hand off at the wrist, because she leaned down and called out, "What's the matter?"
"Me scaryfied," I yelled, trying to be heard.
"You're scared ... Of what?" she asked, dropping to one knee so we were at the same level.
"Being mashed. So many big people. Me so little."
"You're right about one thing; there are lots of big people. Do you think Sally will be scared to be here?"
"Umm, no."
"So why should you be scared?"
"Cuz I know, should be!"
Kimberley chuckled in reply, "Come on Munchkin, relax and enjoy the party.” She paused to take a breath, and then continued, “You can trust me, I'll keep track of you, and I'll keep you in one piece."
"OK, I try re-lax an have fun," I agreed.
We started wondering around, the huge ballroom, looking at the different exhibits. There were a lot of people dressed up in Wizard of Oz costumes, but the Harry Potter fans and the Pirates of the Caribbean crews’ seemed to be battling for top honors; or perhaps it was planned as a hostile takeover?
We'd been looking around for about half an hour when I thought I heard a faint beeping coming from Kimberley's basket. ‘That must be some ringer, to be heard over all this noise.’ Tugging on her arm, to get her attention, I put my free hand up to my ear, as if I were holding a phone. Kimberley got the message and quickly retrieved her phone. After a very few words, Kimberley pulled me back the way we’d come. I assumed the call was from Abigail, letting us know that everything was ready for the exchange.
As we made our way towards the entrance, the crowed thinned out a little. Kimberley leaned down to my level and said, “I think we should go the bathroom before we get too involved in the party. What do you think?”
I nodded my agreement and acknowledgment. It wasn’t what Kimberley had said but the way she’d said it that confirmed my suspicion about the phone call.
As quickly as we could, we made our way towards the main ballroom entrance, and our appointment with destiny.
There were quite a few people milling about outside the restrooms. Abigail made no notice of us as we approached, save for a slight nod of her head and a wink. Inside we found a large facility, laid out like a giant U. There were two long aisles with stalls, with sinks and mirrors across the bottom of the U. There were lots of people down the first row of stalls and a 'Closed for Cleaning' sign before the second. Regina was standing in front of a sink, in a maid's uniform, cleaning the mirror. When she saw us, she pointed us down the back row of stalls. Slipping around the closed sign we turned the corner to see Jacqueline standing at the end of the row, holding a mop. As we approached she smiled and knocked on the door of a large stall.
"Yes?" Someone asked timidly.
"They’re here," Jacqueline replied softly.
"All right, we’re ready."
The door, slowly, swung open and we went in. Behind the door, almost trying to hide behind it, were our twins; well … sort of.
Arabelle seemed to be more nervous about what was going to happen than we were. Sally was acting fidgety, probably because she'd been cooped up for more than a few minutes.
"Hello Arabelle, I'm Kimberley," she introduced herself with a smile, as she stepped forward, offering her hand.
Arabelle seemed to relax a bit as she shook hands. "Hi. This is-"
"Hello Sally, I is the Munchkin," I greeted, stepping forward.
Sally looked up at Arabelle, "Huh, I thought me was the Munchkin?"
"But of course you are. You're my special Munchkin, Sally," Arabelle answered.
"And this is our special Munchkin, Matilda," Kimberley added.
Sally looked at me intently, while holding onto Arabelle, for security. "You look like me."
I moved a bit closer. "You talk like me."
"I a Munchkin," Sally countered, with a smile and more confidence.
"I a Munchkin too. Me a Munchkin princess," I added with pride.
Sally looked at my questioningly, then up at Arabelle. "Munchkins have princess?"
Arabelle knew that changing costumes would have to be something Sally wanted, and she caught on quickly, "But of course. It's a very special thing to be a Munchkin princess. Do you think you would like to be a Munchkin princess, Sally?"
Sally looked at me for a moment before answering, “Yes, I like be princess. I like princess dress. How me be princess?"
"Well ... You have to be a special person," Kimberley stared.
"Me special. Mamma says Sally special. That right, Bellie?" Sally asked, looking to Arabelle to confirm what she'd said.
"Yes Sally, Mamma says you're very special," she confirmed with a smile.
"You have to dance good," I continued with the improvised princess qualifications.
"I dance real good," Sally replied with a smile, spinning around.
"And most important," Kimberley turned serious. "You have to find a princess that thinks you're special enough, that she will give you her crown for a day."
Sally looked at me sadly, "You think me special nuff? You let me wear your crown?"
"I not know ... Do you give good huggies?"
"The best!" she exclaimed. Smiling, she threw her arms around me.
'Oh my stars, Mary Beth could take lessons from this girl. I've never been hugged like this before. I may have a cracked rib or two.'
"That is mighty fine hugging," I squeaked. "You win my crown."
Sally released me, and I gratefully sucked in a fresh supply of air. I had a hard time getting my crown to stay in place, because she simply could not stand still.
Once Sally was crowned I asked, "Do you have princess dress? New princess must wear princess dress, all day."
To that point in my short life I'd never seen anyone looking so sad. I quickly put my arm around Sally and made the ultimate sacrifice, for a princess anyway. "Tell you what. Cuz you new princess, I let you wear my dress."
'How do people change emotions so fast? First I'm getting the stuffing hugged out of me. Two shakes of a puppy dog’s tail latter I'm wiping up tears. The next thing I know I'm being destuffified again. Geeze.'
Ten minutes later, the costume exchange had been completed and Sally and Arabelle, that is Kimberley and I, were back in the ballroom to party. Not to mention the show we were putting on for a few selected observers. At the appointed time we left the ballroom and went to our room. We needed to get ready to have dinner with Jean-Paul and Suzette; Mamma and Papa.
The rooms turned out to be a two-bedroom suite. As we entered Kimberley motioned for me to laugh, sing, and dance around, while she scanned the rooms for listening devices. She found one in what obviously was our room, one in Jean-Paul and Suzette's room, and two in the common room. She even found one in the bathroom.
‘Those security guys weren't taking any chances.’
After communicating with Mr. Black via a few text messages, for instructions, Kimberley left the devices where they were.
‘It made sense, after all, we didn’t want anyone to know we aren’t who we appeared to be.’
After Kimberley had put away her phone/scanner, she turned on the television and selected an all cartoon network for me, well, Sally. Turning the volume up pretty loud, Kimberley sat in a chair as far away from the mikes as possible and waved for me to join her. She pulled me onto her lap so we could discuss our situation without being overheard.
We had just settled in when the door opened and in walked Jean-Paul and Suzette. Knowing that someone would be listening, I started yelling, "Mamma, Mamma, Mamma," as I scrambled down and ran to hug Suzette, exactly as I'd seen Sally do many times, on the DVDs.
Jean-Paul appeared to be in shock, standing motionless just inside the door.
Suzette dropped into the nearest chair and opened her arms to catch me, "How's my little Munchkin?" Realizing that I shouldn’t be her Munchkin, she held me at arm’s length. With a questioning look on her face, she looked me over, from top to bottom.
A moment later, Jean-Paul came out of his trance. Closing the door he questioned, "Arabelle?"
Kimberley answered, just as she should have, "Yes Pappa? Is something wrong?"
"I don't know. What happened? You were supposed to meet with the ameri-"
Kimberley interrupted Jean-Paul by waving her hands and then holding one finger to her lips. Next she pointed to the two listening devices she'd found and then cupped her ears with her hands.
Both Jean-Paul and Suzette had looks of fear on their faces, as the realized what Kimberley meant.
There was suddenly a loud knock on the door. Jean-Paul, being the closest to the door, looked through the peep hole before shaking his head.
The knock was repeated, with more intensity. Reluctantly, Jean-Paul opened the door, admitting two rather large men.
"Frances, what are you and Logan doing here?" Jean Paul demanded.
"Good evening Dr. Moreau, Mrs. Moreau. I trust you're enjoying your stay in Quebec, as well as the party. However, I'm afraid I must ask you and ... these two girls, stay in your rooms for the time being.”
"What do you mean stay in our rooms?" Jean-Paul asked. "We were just on our way to dinner."
"Something has come up, and I'm afraid I can't allow that," Frances continued. "Until it’s time to leave for the airport, two days from now, the four of you will have to remain here."
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 23
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Good Bye Immigration Manor
Hello Paris
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 23
By Penny Reed Cardon
Jean-Paul was furious, "What are you talking about? You have no right to-"
"Please calm yourself, Doctor. I'm just following orders," Frances interrupted, as he tapped the power button on the television, turning it off.
"Orders? What orders?" Jean-Paul questioned.
"Pin him down dear, ask him who gave the order?" Suzette added.
"The order comes from ... Admiral James T Kirk."
The room was completely silent for several seconds, while the absurdity of his answer sunk in.
"Who?" Jean-Paul finally asked.
"Sorry Doctor, just a bit of humor. CEO Devereux personally instructed me to see to it that you, your wife and ... two children, are to be on the flight back to France. I received the order a short time ago and this is the first opportunity since then, until now that is, that the four of you have been together."
"This is absurd. Why would he do something like this? Why would he give an order like that?" The volume of Jean-Paul’s words clearly displayed how upset he was.
"Doctor, please try to relax, remember your heart condition. I'm sure he had a good reason, probably something to do with this," Frances explained, as he removed what appeared to be an mp3 player from his jacket pocket. He plugged in a small speaker and activated the unit.
A stunned silence fell over the room as we listened to the playback, and Arabelle saying, "Mamma, I'm scared. I don't want to leave you and Pappa."
Then we heard Suzette, apparently trying to comfort her daughter, as she replied, "I know dear. I'm a little nervous about this whole thing. But, our friends back home assured us that these Americans can help us."
Jean-Paul’s voice followed. "Arabelle, we've talked about this for a long time now. You know, I can't continue doing ... well, you know. All they care about is money; nothing about who will pay the consequences, who will suffer.” There was a brief pause. “You know how much I hate what I've become. The only reason I haven't done something before now is that I'm afraid of what they would do to the three of you." The deep love that Jean-Paul felt for his family was evident in his voice. I looked at him and could see his eyes getting wider, obviously upset by this turn of events. I also felt Suzette’s arms tightening around me.
"This is the only chance we have to be a real family again, like it used to be, remember?" Suzette’s voice added.
Arabelle’s voice replied, "I remember how it used to be. Even before I messed up and Sally got hurt-"
"I not hurt," we heard Sally’s voice proclaim. The rustling of fabric was clearly heard, followed by, "See, no boo boo's."
"That's right, Munchkins don't get boo boo's," Jean-Paul chuckled, then continued. "Come here Munchkin, give me a hug."
"Give PAPPA huggies?" Sally’s giggling voice questioned. "Why? Is Pappa worth huggies?"
"Maybe just one … and maybe one little snuggle," Suzette’s voice replied. She was clearly teasing them both.
There were several seconds of silence before we heard Sally’s voice again, "Think ... Think, think ... Think, think, think." After a brief pause, her bright voice proclaimed, "Okay, him worth huggies."
I could have sworn I heard the padding of small feet, followed by a male voice grunting, "OOHF."
This was immediately followed by, "Huggies on Pappa.” I assumed that Sally had jumped into her father's lap and had tried to hug the stuffing out of him, just as she'd done to me a little while ago.
"That's my little Munchkin," Jean-Paul’s voice exclaimed cheerfully. "Tell me, can you be a good Munchkin for Arabelle, tomorrow, and do what she tells you?"
"Is she tell me eat bushel spouts?"
Chuckling he replied, "No, I don't think she'll tell you to eat any Brussels sprouts."
"Okee. I do what she say."
"That's my girl." A loud kiss was heard; I guessed that Jean-Paul had kissed Sally's cheek, being that the sound was followed by a little girls giggle.
"Pappa!" More giggling, "You whiskers tickle."
"Arabelle, you will look after your sister," came Suzette’s voice. Her concern for both girls could be heard. "We're counting on you to keep her safe."
"I think that's enough of that," Frances said sharply, as he stopped the playback. "My men will be stationed outside. I'll have your cell phones, if you don't mind."
"What are you saying?"
"Only that, for the next two days you won't need your cell phones. They will be returned to you when we’ve all returned home, to France," Frances replied coldly. Reluctantly, Jean-Paul and Suzette surrendered their phones.
Frances then turned his attention to Kimberley. "And you miss ..."
"Arabelle!" Kimberley snapped.
"But of course you are. I believe you also carry a phone. May I have it?"
"It’s in my bag, in the other room."
"If you don't mind," Frances gestured for Kimberley to go and retrieve her phone.
Hesitantly, Kimberley got up and slowly went into the bedroom we would share. I knew, as Kimberley did, that giving up the phone that Mr. Black had provided wasn't a good thing. I just didn't know of any way to keep the phone. As Kimberley was coming back, with phone in hand, Frances turned to talk with Logan.
At that moment I saw a gleam in Kimberley's eye and a smile cross her face. Making a sudden detour, she slipped into the bathroom. The sound of the bathroom door closing, echoing in his ears, pulled Frances’ attention back to Kimberley. He spun around in shock. A second later I heard the unmistakable sound of a toilet being flushed. Just before Frances threw himself against the bathroom door, it swung open.
Kimberley was smiling as she opened the bathroom door, to find that Frances was about to smash it in. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need to use the bathroom?" she asked, as sweetly and innocently as she could.
Fists on his hips, Frances scowled down at Kimberley. Boisterously, he demanded, "Your cell phone, NOW."
"Oh yes, my phone. I'm really sorry about this, but as I was flushing the toilet the phone slipped from my hand. I'm not exactly sure where it is at the moment, but I don't think I want it back."
'Way to go girl. Teach this scumbag to mess with us.'
"LOGAN!" Frances snapped as Kimberley slowly walked passed him, to sit where she had been. "Search the bathroom, she may have hidden it."
Several moments of silence passed as Logan searched the bathroom, returning empty handed.
"Told you," Kimberley said smugly.
"Get the phones from the rooms," Frances ordered. Then, turning back to Jean-Paul, he continued, "Dr. Moreau, I also require your laptop."
"I’m afraid that’s impossible. I’m in the middle of some sensitive design work. Taking my laptop will significantly delay the completion of the new designs. Surely President Devereux didn't authorize that?"
"Doctor, I'm surprised at you; you're supposed to be on vacation. Spend the next two days getting to know your wife and ... daughters. Now, your laptop please."
“It is essential that I continue my work. I was only permitted to take time off if I agreed to work on the designs in the evening and attend the morning review meetings via videoconference. I must keep my laptop.”
‘That’s it, great logic doc. Keep it up and we’ll have a way out of this mess.’
“You’ll just have to work harder after we get you back to France. As for the morning meetings, they’ll just have to do without you for a few days.”
‘They’ll have to do without him for a lot longer than that, if we have anything to do with it.’
Reluctantly, Jean-Paul finally surrendered his computer; and in my estimation, our last possible line of communication.
Thank you, Doctor. I'll see all of you in two days time. Good evening Doctor, Madame, ... ladies."
With that, Frances and Logan left. The door slammed behind them, leaving us in silence.
It was probably a full minute that the four of us sat in complete silence, each of us apparently thinking about what had just happened. As for me, I was wondering how we would get a message out.
‘They knew what they were doing, didn't leave me anything to work with. How are we going to get word to Mr. Black now.’
Kimberley was the first to move. She silently got up and collected the listening devices she'd located earlier. Placing the five devices on a pillow, in the middle of the floor, she covered them with a second pillow. Turning to Jean-Paul she whispered, "They have transmitters, can you change the frequency so we can use them to contact our friends?"
Looking a little surprised that Kimberley would be asking that question; he cautiously examined one of the devices. After a minute or two he put it back between the pillows. "I'm afraid not. Without a schematic and some tools there's not much I can do," he whispered.
Kimberley looked at me, asking, "How about you, Munchkin, any ideas?"
Partly dropping out of character, "I work wiff computers and networks okay, me not know radios."
"Well, it looks like you're going to be Sally a little longer than we planned and I think Sally has been quiet for too long. You need to start dancing and making lots of noise."
"What?" I puzzled.
"Dance, sing, make noise," Kimberley clarified, pointing towards the wireless mikes.
Jean-Paul and Suzette looked at Kimberley with puzzlement. They appeared as though they were unsure of who she was, what she was planning, and most of all - should they trust her.
As for me, I hopped off Suzette's lap and turned the TV back on. With the TV on and me singing along, the room was instantly filled with sound.
Kimberley went into our room for a moment, returning with a different pair of shoes for me. Having me sit for a moment, she took off my green munchkin slippers and put some black Mary Jane’s on my feet, that had some steel plates on the heels.
'I didn't know Sally was into tap dancing. That wasn't in the DVD's. I wonder how much more information they forgot.'
Kimberley took me into the bathroom, leaving the door open. Again she told me to dance. The sound of the tap shoes on the hard tile floor, in that small bathroom, was very loud; even to me. Kimberley nodded as she smiled. "That's perfect. Keep it up," she told me, as she disappeared.
Almost immediately, Kimberley returned, along with Jean-Paul, Suzette, and the pillows with the wireless mikes. Taking one of the mikes, Kimberley placed it in the middle of that small bathroom floor. Looking up at me, she smiled. I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. Taking a mighty jump I landed right on top of the small device, crushing it with my heel. The fact that several pieces went flying in different directions didn't seem to bother anyone. Kimberley smiled and nodded her approval at my performance. Suzette and Jean-Paul could barely stifle their laughter, as Kimberley placed the second device down, close to where the first had been.
After all the devices had been turned into what appeared to be the remnants of a nanite size War of the Worlds. We collected up all of the pieces and flushed them. A most satisfying feeling, I must admit.
"That takes care of the first order of business," Kimberley announced, wiping bits of electronics from her hands. "Right, on to the next order of business, did Frances say how we were to order from room service? Who’s hungry?"
"I don't recall him saying how, just that it’s available," Suzette replied.
"Maybe he left instructions with whoever's watching the door. After all, he didn't leave any of the hotel phones," Kimberley added.
“I wonder, is there really anyone out there?" Jean-Paul questioned, heading for the door.
Opening the door he exclaimed, "René, I thought you weren't coming on this trip. When did you get here?" Was all we heard before the door swung closed?
Several minutes later the door opened. "That's just like Frances, deciding what road to take without looking at a map or knowing where it goes," Jean-Paul complained, shaking his head. "He goes and convinces President Devereux to give him the authority to place us under house arrest for two days without finalizing any of the details; like how and what we're supposed to eat. It’s a good thing they sent René over; at least he's got a few more active brain cells. There's a restaurant in the hotel and four more in the convention center complex. René sent someone to collect a menu from each. He told me to just write down what we want and he'll see that it's delivered."
"That takes care of the second order of business, survival. The next thing we need to discuss is," Kimberley motioned that she meant Suzette and Jean-Paul and herself, "how are we going to survive being locked up for two days with the Munchkin?"
Being that I was too far away to kick anything fleshy, I took a deep breath blew raspberries for as long as my breath held out.
Laughing, Kimberley admitted, "I'm only teasing. We'll have lots of fun together."
Kimberley's admission that she was just teasing did nothing to take the scowl from my face. Dejectedly I wandered in and sat on my bed.
'This feels strange ... sharing a room. I haven't shared a room since Mom and Dad finished that room in the basement and moved Charles down there. That's if you don't count the time Mary Beth slept with me. I sure miss having her snuggling up behind me. - - - I,' sniffle 'I wonder if I’ll ever see her again? ...'
Shortly after I started crying I felt the bed shift as someone else sat down. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and then turned to see Suzette's smiling face.
"What's the matter, little one?" she asked, pulling me onto her lap.
"I not that little," I replied gruffly, amid my sniffling.
"But of course you are, you're my little Munchkin. Even when you grow big, you'll still be my little Munchkin. Well, you'll be someone's little Munchkin. I keep forgetting you're not Sally, you're so much like her."
"MayBee," I mumbled softly, after a moment’s hesitation.
"Maybe? But of course you will be-"
"No, I be MayBee's Munchkin."
"Oh, MayBee! Who's MayBee?"
"MayBee my friend. She take care of me. Well ... she used to. When we go France, I never see her again," I said softly, as my eyes started leaking once more.
Suzette put her arms around me, but somehow it didn't feel right. She was kind, but she wasn't Mom or Mary Beth and the feeling I got wasn't as comforting as it could have been.
Once the restaurant menus arrived, it became obvious that Jean-Paul has an evil streak. Suzette and I went back into the common room, where Jean-Paul suggested that we not make life easy for our jailers and, that we each order from a different menu. Thinking that it would be fun, for us anyway, we all went along with the idea. I did need a little help as I didn't know what some of the dishes were, and Kimberley made me promise not to order pizza for every meal; the spoil sport.
‘I wonder if Mr. Black has someone monitoring room service. I’m guessing because Ellen knew my favorite breakfast they probably know about my love for mint chocolate chip ice cream.’
While waiting for dinner to be delivered, and while we ate, the four of us got to know each other a little better. Jean-Paul and Suzette were surprised at how much we knew about them. We learned more about Sally's condition, and while talking about that, I told them what Ellen had said about trying to stimulate Sally's mind, if she had the chance. The idea of helping Sally's mind grow is something they'd given up on. At least the doctors in France had convinced them to give up. It was obvious how much Jean-Paul and Suzette wanted so much to be with their daughters again. I wasn't sure how we'd accomplish it, but somehow Kimberley or I needed to get an intelligent message to the S. P. A.
Sally's bedtime came all too quickly, so at the appointed time Kimberley took me in to get me ready for bed.
"You know Munchkin, if we don't find some way out of it we'll be in France in three days," Kimberley started, as she took off my dress.
"I know. Plan go bad. Need new plan. Me not want go France. Not want be dressed by nanny. Any way we talk Mr. Black?"
"I don't know of any way to get a message to him, they took everything that we could have used. Too bad I had to flush my phone."
"You think tracker in phone work under water?" I wondered.
"I doubt it. If it is, it will lead someone on a merry chase, through the local sewer system. Of course, if it is somehow working; when they find it they'll know something's wrong."
"Don't know ‘bout you, I don't want find flushed phone." I held my nose and made faces.
"I have to agree with you there," she chuckled. "Whoever has to go diving for it should get paid triple."
"And a hour bubble bath," I added with a giggle.
"You're right about that one. There you are, snuggly tucked into bed. Anything else I can get for you, Munchkin?"
Soon to be alone, tucked into a strange bed, and facing the prospect of never seeing the hills of home again, I looked into Kimberley's eyes and wistfully replied, "MayBee."
"I know what you mean, I miss Angel too," she sighed heavily. Leaning down, she kissed my forehead, saying, "Goodnight, Munchkin, sleep tight."
"Don't let bed bugs bite," I sadly finished, but with a halfhearted attempt at a smile.
I watched Kimberley gather her pajamas and go to the bathroom to change. For the first time, since leaving the Manor, I was alone, all alone. I rolled over so I was facing away from the door; I didn't want anyone to see me crying.
‘I shouldn’t be crying, I’m not a baby any more. I’m supposed to be bigger than that. Ellen says I'm the smallest adult at Immigration Manor and adults don't cry ... do they?’
I don't know how much time had passed or how many times I'd drifted in and out of sleep. I knew my pillow was wet and I had gone from softly crying to uncontrollable sobbing, when I felt my bed shift. "What's the matter, Munchkin?"
Recognizing Kimberley's voice, I meekly replied, "I miss MayBee."
Kimberley laid behind me, putting one arm over me, her hand cupping my shoulder. "I know, Munchkin. I know. Don't worry, everything will work out somehow. We'll be all right as long as we stick together. I promised Mr. Peterson that I'd take care of you and that's one promise I intend to keep. Can you imagine what he’d do to me if I let anything bad happen to you?"
I knew he couldn’t do anything to her if we didn’t get away. Still, the picture of him looming over her was enough to bring out a little smile. Then my fear of not getting away returned and I thought about never seeing Mary Beth again.
“Not matter anyway. MayBee not care no more.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I know she’ll never forgive me if I don’t get you back in one piece.”
"Mary Beth tell you ... she care ‘bout me?" I asked, as I rolled over to face Kimberley.
"She didn't have to say anything. I can tell by the way she acts when she's around you. And what about you, oh my, the way you act, I've never seen a more love sick puppy dog."
"I sorry."
"Oh, there's nothing to be sorry about. Being in love is part of the circle of life. I've just never seen it from a pair so young."
"But, MayBee says, we just friends."
"Really? That's odd. Oh well, don't worry about it right now. Sometimes it takes a while for some people’s brains to figure out what their heart already knows."
"I tried tell MayBee, but -"
"It’s all right; you two have lots of time to figure out what I already know. Assuming I can find a way of getting us back home.” She gave me a reassuring hug. “In the meantime, I've been thinking about what could happen IF we end up on that plane to France. Just a guess, but, I know how you feel about diapers and I suspect you won’t be too happy about wearing Sally's cloth diapers or being changed by the nanny."
With terror in my eyes, I violently shook my head.
"I thought not. I guess it’s up to you and me to potty train Sally, and in the next two days. You ready for a new challenge?"
"Sound like good idea, but how do I re - train muscles?"
"I don't know anything about retraining muscles. I just figure it’s the same as training them the first time. Starting tomorrow morning you're in the Kimberley Thomas - oops, I guess that's the Arabelle Moreau, two-day diaper to panty, potty training course. What do you say?"
"What you know ‘bout potty train?” I realized I’d fallen out of character, and forced myself back.
"Being that my Mom was working two jobs to support us, one at the local diner during the day and most nights she was running the projectors at the Cineplex, it was up to me to take care of my little brother and sister, after school and at night. I didn't want to spend lots of time changing and washing diapers, so I learned how to potty train them. You know, since I’ve been at school, I’ve read somewhere that boys are harder to train than girls. Having done one of each, I'd have to agree, boys DO take longer to train. You'll be my first TG girl."
"Is that good or bad?"
"I don't know. You certainly have a big enough reason to get out of diapers."
"Got that right. Never do this again," I complained, slapping my padded bottom. "Not wear again for nobody."
"I don't blame you, not one bit. Personally, I don't know how Mr. Black talked you into it."
"It best way help, lots of peoples. Is we helping," I softly mumbled.
"I'm sure we are, Munchkin, I'm sure we are. You ready for some sleep now?"
"Oh-kay, no more tears. Me berry seepie. Story pease?"
"All right Munchkin, close your eyes and I'll tell you a story."
I was drifting off as Kimberley was telling me one of the Brer Rabbit tales. Interrupting I asked, "Bellie, tan you open da window?"
"Open the window? Are you hot?"
"No, just idea, way to dit mess-mige Mr. Back."
"Mess-mige? Mr. Back? You are sleepy. Goodnight Munchkin," she said before kissing my forehead.
"Dood nigh, nigh-"
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 24
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Taking a trip down Memory Lane;
They’re not always a fun trips to take.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 24
By Penny Reed Cardon
December 16th 2004
"Good morning Munchkin. Time for you to get up, grow up, and start using the toilet again," Kimberley cheerfully announced, as she pulled back the blankets; causing me to shiver.
I cautiously cracked open one eye and was blinded by the bedside table lamp. Snapping my eye shut, I mumbled, "What time is it?" I didn’t notice I’d fallen out of character until after I’d uttered those four simple words.
"It's just after five. Come on, rise and shine. Is your diaper dry?" she asked, as she pulled my feet to the edge of the bed, dropping them over the side, leaving me on my back.
Working back into character, "What time at home?" I wondered aloud.
"That would be just after three-o-clock."
"Three clocks? Me still seepie," I complained, pulling my knees up, trying to roll over away from the light.
"Okay, it's your choice. Lose some sleep or lose your dignity to the nanny."
I let out a deep sigh, then growled a bit before saying, "You not play fair."
Kimberley professed her innocence, "What's not fair, making it your choice?"
"Remind me of nanny. That not fair." After another deep sigh, I dropped my feet back down and held out my hands. "Up please?"
"Sure thing," she chuckled. Taking my hands, she pulled me off the bed and held me close for a moment, as I stood on wobbly feet and legs.
Quietly, we made our way to the bathroom. I held up my nightgown, while Kimberley undid the bulky nighttime diaper.
"It’s still dry, good girl. We'll use this one again tonight. Quickly now, sit on the toilet," she commanded.
"Burrr ... is cold," I complained, as I sat down dropping my nightgown over my knees.
"That's life and toilet seats, you have to learn to take them as they come; sometimes they’re warm and sometimes they’re cold."
"Wonderful foss-a-fee, Mr. Spock," I countered with a grin.
"Thank you, I'll take that as a complement, but I don't think Sally would be quoting Star Trek. Now, I want you to concentrate on relaxing the muscles in your bladder. Try and release your urine. It may take a while and usually won't happen as long as someone else is in the room. So, here's your pull up. When you get something out you can go back to bed."
"Thought me get panties."
"In time you will get to wear panties. You have to learn to walk before you can run. Likewise, you have to learn to not wet, before you can graduate to panties. Besides, there aren't any in Sally's luggage. We'll get some for you as soon as we get out of this hotel."
"Okay. Me understand. Dry pull up better than wet pull up."
"That's my girl. I'll see you in a bit," she said, as she turned on the sink faucet a little before closing the bathroom door. The light tinkling sound of the water had two effects; the first I won’t mention, the second was it put me to sleep.
When I went back into the bedroom, Kimberley was lying on my bed. It was at that moment I noticed Kimberley's bed hadn't been slept in. I smiled as I realized what must have happened.
’Kimberley must have slept in my bed. I must have been more upset than I realized. It’s not like me to not to notice things. I know she doesn't love me like Mary Beth, but it’s nice to know she cares enough to do that.'
Kimberley smiled when she noticed me, "Hi there. Successful?" I nodded in reply, although a bit embarrassed.
"I know this is embarrassing for someone your age, but it can't be helped.
I could hear genuine concern in her voice, which took away some of the sting of embarrassment.
“You took so long; I was starting to think you fell asleep."
Sheepishly, I looked at the floor as I replied, "Me thinks I did."
"That’s not surprising, you didn’t sleep well last night. Now, crawl back into bed and you can catch some more zzz's," she said, as she got up and held up the blankets.
I wasn't about to question her offer. Quick as I could, I scampered across the small room and crawled back into bed, slipping under the blankets.
"So, as a growing up Sally, using the bathroom and all, do you still need to be tucked in so tightly?" Kimberley asked, as she was played with the clock radio.
"Um, not think so. Tilda never fall off bed."
"That's what I thought," she agreed, setting down the radio. "Um, I have another question and I'm not quite sure how to ask. You see, I could use some more sleep and it’s been a long time since ... well, since I've slept alone. Would it bother you if I slept in your bed?"
'That was something I didn't expect to hear. I thought that Mary Beth and I sleeping together was something that would be frowned upon. Here she is, openly admitting to sleeping with Angel and not just now and then, but that they've been sleeping together for a long time. I guess after tucking me in each night … how could I have missed noticing that. I wonder if all of the upper years -'
Kimberley interrupted my thoughts, again, "Well?"
I smiled and nodded my approval.
"Thanks," she said as she pushed my long nightgown over next to my legs. "These beds are really too big for one person; don't you agree?"
"Uh ha, like bed at school," I agreed, with just a hint of sadness.
"I have a little confession to make. Earlier, when you were crying and I was, well, laying with you to help you sleep. After you fell asleep I ... I slept on your bed." The way she was stumbling she must have thought I'd be upset. I simply smiled and nodded.
"Yes? What do you mean yes?"
"I know you sleep with me."
"You know? How do you know?"
"Your bed still made. You not sleep there," I explained.
"Well, aren't you the little detective?"
I nodded, "That me, Tilda Holmes."
"Matilda Holmes, indeed. All right, enough talk, it’s time for sleep."
I nodded and smiled. Rolling over, I snuggled backwards towards Kimberley. She put a protective arm around me.
"Belle, know what?"
"What?"
"Me sleep like this be for, only at horse pistol. Mary Beth crying ’n me crawl in her bed. Make her feel better," I sadly related, as I remembered back to when we shared a bed at Primary Children’s.
‘I’m not sad because of what we've been through, what we’ve shared, or that we found comfort in each other’s arms. No, that doesn’t bother me, what makes me sad is that Mary Beth doesn’t feel that way about me, any more.’
With Kimberley stroking my hair, I quickly drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that I was safe; at least for the moment.
I was drifting in and out of dreamland when the alarm went off. Kimberley rolled over to shut it off. "It's almost eight-o-clock. Do you think the others are up yet?"
"We on vacation. Me think Mamma 'n Pappa sleep longer," I speculated.
"Maybe. Now, before you have an accident, go to the bathroom and do the same as before. When you’re done we'll see if they're ready to order breakfast."
I paused a moment to look out the bedroom window. Nothing there seemed out of the ordinary, a normal window, another hotel, a parking terrace, almost everything was covered in snow. Making my way to the bathroom, I turned on the water in the sink and spent half the day sitting on the toilet. All right, it was less than half an hour before I gave up and went into the suite’s common room, shaking my head at Kimberley. She knew what that meant, but she had to explain it to Suzette; who was surprised.
"I thought you were just, well, pretending for the day, I guess," Suzette tried to verbalize her confusion.
"Me live as Sally, long, long time," I started to explain, as I crawled onto Suzette's lap. "Have to make see-curity think me Sally."
"Well, at least we thought we would have to fool security," Kimberley explained. "We didn't expect to be walking into a situation where our cover was already blown. Didn't you know that the security team used listening devices?"
Jean-Paul joined us as Kimberley was asking the question. "We thought they might," he answered. "That's why the folks in France gave me a scanning device. I went through these rooms, from top to bottom, when we arrived. I guess the devices were planted while we were out. Looking back, I should have scanned every time we came back into the suite."
"They do say that hindsight is the only perfect science. Oh well, there's no sense in sitting around thinking about what we should have done. The question, we need an answer to, is what do we do now?" Kimberley asked.
"Breakfast," I replied.
"Are you hungry?" Suzette asked, stroking my hair.
"Me answer Belle question, what we do now? Need breakfast," I clarified, slipping down and spinning around. "Also ask see-curity for color books, crayons, ’n color pencil. Want to make pretty pictures."
"You want to color some pictures?" Kimberley wondered aloud.
"Uh ha. You ’n me color lots of pretty pictures. Some pictures for Mamma, some Pappa, and some for ... Daddy Black."
"Matilda! What did you say?" Kimberley demanded, catching me by the shoulders, stopping me in midspin.
Looking into Kimberley's eyes I sheepishly asked, "Okay be Tilda now?"
"If you've figured out a way to get us home, you can be anyone you want to be."
I dropped my head forward until my chin rested on my chest. I rotated at the neck all the way right, then left, then back around as I looked up into Kimberley's eyes and smiled. Taking a deep breath I continued, "I can't do anything about getting us home; that will be up to Mr. Black and his team. However, I do have an idea as to how to get word to them. They need to know that Frances intends to put us on a plane tomorrow afternoon, bound for France."
Kimberley smiled before she hugged me and kissed my forehead. Suzette looked as though she were in shock. Jean-Paul sat on the ottoman he had been standing in front of. He shook his head for a moment before saying, "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"
Kimberley smiled, as she turned me to face Jean-Paul. "Come now, you didn't think we would put someone in harms way who wouldn't be able to cope with unexpected changes or possible hazards, do you?" I blatantly asked.
"No, no, of course not. I was just a little surprised by the very sudden change in personality. That was the first thing that I thought of," Jean-Paul confessed.
Standing with me in front of her and with her hands on my shoulders, she proudly proclaimed, "I'd like to introduce you to Matilda, the brightest Munchkin of her age."
"How can you change personalities so easily?" Suzette asked.
"It wasn't easy at first," Kimberley replied. "It took her over two weeks to learn how to act and talk like Sally, although, she does make a few mistakes, now and then. But I'm sure nobody on the security team would have known the difference. I'm just glad it didn't take her two weeks to change back."
"If we don't find a way out of this, you better get used to me being Sally, we may be in France for a long, long time," I reminded her, looking up over my shoulder at Kimberley.
"Of course we'll find a way out. So, what's your plan?"
"First, I need to make another visit to the bathroom. Second, we should order breakfast, along with requesting several coloring books, some crayons, and colored pencils. The rest of my idea is dependent upon a few assumptions, the crossing of fingers, and more luck than it takes to jumpstart a matter-antimatter reactor, cold."
Kimberley was giggling, as she shook her head. Suzette and Jean-Paul appeared to be in shock, as I disappeared behind the bathroom door. I emerged a little later, smiling, to find that the others were looking over the restaurant menus. Unfortunately, only two of the restaurants offered breakfast, so we couldn't each order from a different menu. Once we'd given the morning security watch our breakfast order, along with the request for coloring books and crayons, we took the time to discuss what I'd been thinking.
"So how many assumptions have to be in our favor to get us out of here?" Kimberley asked, started the discussion.
"Really only two," I replied. "First, from what I saw yesterday, Frances seems to be a bit arrogant. He's confident that he has us securely confined and will probably relax. Is that how he seemed to you?"
"He's usually pretty sure of himself," Jean-Paul agreed. "He was former French Army Intelligence. He still has access to some of their equipment and resources; at least that's what I've been told."
Kimberley and I looked at each other after hearing about Frances' past. I nodded towards the TV and Kimberley picked up the remote; turning it on, somewhat loudly.
"What's that for?" Suzette asked, barely loud enough to be heard, while covering her ears.
Kimberley motioned for everyone to gather close together, before answering Suzette's question. "Frances must know we found and destroyed the bugs he planted. If he still has access, he may have something that he can use to listen through the walls or door. We may have already giving ourselves away, but we'll have to take that chance. As for myself, I've only come up with one idea. If we plunged the toilet and flooded the bathroom, they'd have to let maintenance in to fix it. We might be able to slip them a note, for Mr. Black."
"I had an idea that was similar, although not quiet as messy," Jean-Paul admitted. "I thought we could short out the television cable. That should knock out all the TV's on this floor, if not the whole wing. When they send technicians around to find and fix the problem; same thing, slip them a note."
"All right, Munchkin, from what we've heard so far, your idea is a bit more involved. You want to tell us the rest of it?" Kimberley asked.
Surprised, Suzette asked Kimberley, "Her nickname is Munchkin?"
"Yeah, silly isn't it," I replied.
"I wouldn't say it’s silly that you and our daughter have the same nickname, more like weird, really, really weird." Jean-Paul added.
"Almost to the point of being scary," Suzette muttered.
After a few moments of shaking heads and no more comments about my name, I continued "Do you think Frances will have people watching the windows?"
"I wouldn't think so; there aren't any ledges, balconies, or fire escapes, so there's no way of climbing down from here. I don't think he'd waste the personal to watch the windows. His resources in that area are somewhat limited," Jean-Paul informed us.
"Excellent. Kimberley, do you think Mr. Black knows what suite we're in?"
"Of course he does. He wouldn't have let us make the swap if he didn't know where we'd be."
"When your phone went dead, after being flushed, would he assume something’s wrong?" I asked.
"He'll be concerned, but probably write it off as a malfunction. That is, until we miss our rendezvous with Angel and Mary Beth. Then he'll know there's a problem."
"Do you think he'll have someone watching the windows, when we don't show up?"
"Maybe, but how would he know we're here and not already out of the hotel."
"Because of the locator he put on me."
"What locator?" Kimberley and Jean-Paul asked together.
I reached inside my nightgown and pulled out the necklace that Mr. Black had given me. "I realized this is a locator beacon, when I discovered he lied to us. Yesterday, when we changed costumes, Sally wasn't wearing a necklace of any kind."
"So you mean?"
"This is his backup plan," I proclaimed, as I tucked the necklace back into my nightgown. "He knows exactly where we are. But, knowing where we are isn't as important as knowing when and where we are going to be. The only chance they'll have of getting us away from Frances will be someplace public."
"The airport?" Kimberley speculated.
"The airport!" I confirmed.
"So what's with the coloring books and crayons?" Suzette wanted to know.
"Well, it's just an idea I had," I started.
"She's planning to put a message on one and somehow get it to their Mr. Black," Jean-Paul guessed.
"Close, very close, but you need to expand your vision," I confirmed. "What I was thinking was to put a piece of the message on lots of pictures, along with a key for putting the pieces of the puzzle together. In one of the top corners of each page we'll put one of the seven letters to spell 'Matilda.' Then, in one of the bottom corners we put three or four letters of the airline, flight, and date; scrambled, of course. Then all we have to do is make paper airplanes out of the colored pictures and fly them out the window."
"So that's why you were asking about opening the window last night." Kimberley got up and went to the window. She returned a few moments later, looking like a little girl that had lost her balloon. "Better think of another plan, those windows won't open."
"What?" I exclaimed.
"Let me have a look," Jean-Paul suggested.
The three of us sat together quietly, although not in peace, thanks to the din from the TV, while Jean-Paul looked at the windows in the common room as well as both bedrooms. When Jean-Paul rejoined us, his expression didn't fill me with confidence.
"It appears that this wing of the hotel is much older than the rest," he explained. "Normally, when an older hotel is upgraded any old sliding windows would have been removed and new windows would be installed. However, fortunately for us, the old windows are still here, but they've been glued shut. More precisely, they were sealed with silicon caulking."
"Why is that fortunate?" Suzette asked.
"That’s good for us because, in about thirty minutes our breakfast orders should be arriving, along with some utensils. If I'm not mistaken, there should be three butter knives and one steak knife. While the three of you are coloring pictures and folding airplanes, I'll work on getting one or two of the windows open," he proclaimed.
"So, even though my idea is a little complicated, is it worth trying?" I asked.
"I hate to admit it, but it’s the best idea I've heard this morning," Jean-Paul praised. "I also think it has the best chance for success. Not to mention it will draw the least amount of attention. The others were dependent upon slipping a note to someone we don't know, probably with Frances or one of his people watching, and hoping it would get to your Mr. Black."
So we had a plan of action, agreed upon by all. We didn't have to wait long for our supplies to arrive. Surprisingly the coloring books and crayons were delivered before our breakfast orders.
Kimberley and I had just started coloring when Frances burst into the room. Jumping back into Sally's character, I jumped up and rushed over to Suzette, crawling onto her lap for protection.
"Is there a problem?" Jean-Paul asked politely, Frances didn't look like he was in a mood to be questioned.
"What's been going on in here?" Frances demanded, after turning off the TV.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jean-Paul replied. "We're just coloring some pictures, would you care to join us?"
'If looks could kill I think Jean-Paul would be smoldering.'
Frances turned away from us, ignoring anything else anyone said, as he went into Jean-Paul and Suzette’s room. Coming back into the common room, he looked around for a moment before he went into Kimberley’s and my room and then into the bathroom. Coming out of the bathroom, he seemed to be holding something in the palm of his hand.
Frances looked up from his hand to see us looking at him. “This explains a few things. I don’t know how you found them, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Just do as you're told and we won't have to do anything nasty!"
I didn’t see the evil look of delight on Frances’ face or hear the door slam as he stormed out of the room, my mind had already collapsed and the room had gone dark.
>> << >> << >> << >> << >> <<
... just do as you're told and we won't do anything nasty ...
... do as you're told ...
... do as you're told ...
... do as you're told ...
... do as you're told and we won't do anything nasty ...
... we won't do anything nasty ...
... anything nasty ...
... anything nasty ...
"MARY BETH!"
sobbing and pain.
"MARY BETH!"
sobbing and pain.
"MARY BETH?"
nothing but pain
. . .
sobbing and pain.
"WHERE ARE YOU MARY BETH?"
"I need youuuuuuu huu huu huu huu."
Shaking
Someone is shaking me.
"NOOO"
sobbing
"Not again!"
"Don't hurt me again."
"Please ...
don't hurt me again."
"Mary Beth!"
"Mary Beth!"
"Mary Beth!"
<< >> << >> << >> << >> << >>
"Mary Beth."
"Mary Beth."
Shaking. “Ma-a-til-l-l-l-da-a-a.”
"Mary Beth."
Shaking. “Matil-l-l-da-a.”
"Mary Beth."
Shaking. “Matilda!”
... Why is someone shaking me.
"Is that you Mary Beth?"
"Come on Matilda, it's not real, come out of it."
The fog was starting to lift, as I wasn’t in complete darkness. "Where - where's Mary Beth? I need Mary Beth! She's always here when they bring me back. She's the only one that knows. Where's my Mary Beth?"
"Take it easy, Matilda, it's all right. No one took you anywhere. It's just a bad memory. Let it go, let it go and come back to us."
My mind was clearing, and so was my vision. "You're ... you're not Mary Beth. Where's Mary Beth?"
"No, I'm not Mary Beth. Do you know who I am?"
"You are, um ... um, Kimmie. No, no, that's not right. You are, ... you're Kimberley. But somehow that's still not right either."
"You're doing fine, just a little bit more. Now, what's your name?"
My mind was quickly sorting out what was going on, where I was, and what I was supposed to be doing. I looked around the room I was in. I looked at the man standing close by, he looked worried. I looked at Kimberley, kneeling in front of me, holding my hands. I looked around at the women, upon whose lap I was sitting. She was holding me tightly, but she appeared to be scared of something.
"My name is, is, Matilda ... but I'm supposed to be Sally, and I'm not supposed to be speaking English," I reply softly, pulling my hands back and dropping my face into them.
“She’ll be all right now,” I heard Kimberley say in French. "I'll take her to her bed, so she can lie down for a little while." Kimberley scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom.
'She must work out a lot; I know I'm small for a ten-year-old. Shoot, I'm even a little small for an eight-year-old. And she picked me up as if I were no trouble at all. Means one thing for sure, don't make Kimberley mad.'
Kimberley took me in and set me on my bed. Sitting down next to me, she pulled me close, putting her arms around my shoulders and I reciprocated, putting my arms around her waist. "You know, you're bigger than you look."
"I am? But you picked me up like it was nothing."
"Well don't expect me to do it every day."
I sat quiet, gently hugging her. I was afraid of what she might ask, praying that she wouldn't.
It took her a few minutes to catch her breath, before she asked, "Do you know what happened?"
"Umm ... I took a little trip to Never, Never Land ... again," I shyly replied.
"That's one way of putting it. What do you mean, again?"
"Ohh … I've done it before."
"I guess that's why Ellen taught me the things she did."
"Did Frances see me go bonkers?"
"No. He stormed out of the room before you started crying out."
"What about Suzette and Jean-Paul, what did you tell them?"
"Just what Ellen told me, that you had been abused when you were younger and sometimes the memories come back to haunt you."
We sat quietly for a few minutes, just holding each other. Finally Kimberley broke the silence, "Look, I'm not going to ask what made you take your little trip down memory lane, because quite frankly, I don't want your mind running away again. I'm sure Ellen will want to talk about it, once we get home.”
“That’s something to look forward to,” I complained sarcastically.
“Do you want to lie down for a bit, and relax?"
"No - not really. It's nicer to be held. Mostly I want -" I paused, not finishing my sentence, as my eyes started filling with tears again.
"What do you want?" she kindly asked.
"Mostly," I sniffled and wiped my nose on my sleeve. "Mostly I want ... to go home."
"I agree with you there, Munchkin. Is this paper airplane idea of yours going to work?"
"I don't know for sure, but without any form of advanced electronic, communications we need to try something; and like I said, knowing where we are right now, isn't as important as knowing where we'll be. With that information they can plan something."
"Yes, but, paper airplanes?"
“I think paper airplanes are better than flooding the bathroom. Wet carpet has such a nasty smell.”
“I guess you’re right about that.”
"When we don't show up to change back into ourselves they'll start looking for us, if they haven't been keeping track of us, all along." I patted the medallion Mr. Black had given me. "They'll know we're still here. I can only assume they'll be watching the windows."
"That's a pretty big assumption."
"Do you have a better idea?"
"No, Munchkin, I don't. You feel like coloring some pictures?"
"It's our first step to getting home; let's color."
"I'm with you."
By the time we got back to coloring, Jean-Paul had coded enough pages for our planned airplane fleet. Twenty-seven pages in all, three copies of our message; in case not all the pages were recovered.
M
AF8
A
IL7
T
RI1
I
CG5
L
AH-
D
NT1
A
A_7
+
D_t
3
A_h
Kimberley and I started coloring as fast as we could. As we finished coloring each picture, Suzette would fold it into an airplane, and do a little test flying. I lost track of how many times one sailed past my nose. They did have to remind me twice that I needed to reduce my coloring skills, so my pictures would look like Sally had done them.
Kimberley and I had been chatting while coloring. After lunch she asked a rather surprising question, "Matilda, if my memory's right, you got into trouble at school several times, and each time it had something to do with computers. How did you come up with an idea that doesn't involve one?"
"Remember the music over the PA system?" I asked in return.
"Yes, I thought it was a really good prank, one of the best I've seen in years."
"First, it wasn't a prank. I was trying to do something nice for some special people, at the school," I explained. "Second, for my efforts I was stripped of all computer privileges for a day. Remembering that experience helped me come up with some ideas that didn't need a computer, I think this is the best one."
"I just hope this works. I don't think I'm ready to change my name, permanently."
"Me too, I've already changed mine once and I like Matilda."
"I don't know, I think you're kind a cute as Sally," she teased.
"Oh thanks. You know, I think you enjoy playing mommy a little too much, or rather, big sister. Did I see you smiling when you were changing my diapers?" I threw back.
"Oh no you don’t, don't go there. Changing your diapers is not what made me smile. I was thinking how nice it would be to have children of my own, some day."
"You mean you and Angel?" I asked in surprise.
"Hey, we haven't worked out all the details yet, but we do plan on staying together. Our SOT ceremony was last year and we're planning to get married in the spring. Assuming, I'm not stuck in France changing your diapers, so less talk and more coloring."
"Okay, okay, I'm coloring, I'm coloring, but what's an SOT ceremony?"
"You haven't heard about that yet? It a ceremony where you and your partner make it known to the world ... well, at least to the entire school, that you love and care for one another enough that you pledge your lives to each other."
“That sounds like a wedding, but you said you're planning to get married next spring. I'm confused."
"Don't worry about it right now, lots of time to explain things later. Well, boys and girls it’s official, we’ve missed our rendezvous," she announced loudly, while looking at the clock across the room. "There’s no question about it, now, ‘Houston, we have a problem’.”
"When do you think your people will start looking for the two of you?" Suzette wondered.
"If they haven't been keeping track of the Munchkin's movements all morning, they are most certainty checking to see where she is now," Kimberley assured everyone.
"Oh geez, I didn't even think about that," I grumbled, pulling the necklace out of my blouse. "Get this thing off me."
"Munchkin! What's the matter?" Suzette asked.
"I don't need the whole organization knowing that I'm going to the bathroom every hour and a half. It's bad enough that I have to act like a two-year-old going through toilet training, I don't need them watching me remotely."
"Matilda, you're just being childish," Kimberly argued.
With fire in my eyes, I stopped and looked at Kimberley, my necklace in my hand, "Thank you, thank you very much."
"What?"
"There’s nothing I’d like better than to be a child again. I'm getting tired of being the smallest adult at school," I openly admitted.
"Matilda, now you're not making any sense, what are you talking about? You are a child!"
"Look, we'll have to talk about this later. For right now, just hold this while I go to the bathroom," I said, handing Kimberley the necklace, as I once more disappeared into the bathroom. After another successful porcelain cruise, I put my necklace back on and resumed scribbling, um, coloring.
"What's the next step in your quest for freedom?" Suzette asked, as she started folding the picture I gave her.
"The next step is simple; we open the curtains so Mr. Black, or one of his associates, can see us. Hopefully they can signal us somehow, so we'll know they're there. Then we throw the airplanes out the window for them to collect. I wish we knew how many people Frances has here. Getting them all together would be even better."
"If our people are going to find the airplanes, we'd better get busy. It’s starting to get dark," Kimberley announced, pulling open one set of curtains.
I went to the only window that Jean-Paul had succeeded in opening and looked out. It had been snowing earlier, but the sky had cleared and the moon was shining brightly. Other than being in a strange city, the scene remembered me of a Christmas story I remembered hearing long ago. ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ... the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the luster of mid-day to objects below ...’
As I stood in front of the window, daydreaming more than I should have, something caught my eye, a flash of red light. I turned in the direction the light had come from and quickly covered my eyes. A flash of light is one thing, being blinded with a laser, is something entirely different. Dropping below window level, I had a sudden fear that I was being targeted. After a second, I realized how silly that was, nobody would want to hurt me; at least nobody in Quebec. Looking up, I realized that my name was being painted on the wall behind me, with laser light. All of my silly fears were instantly gone as I boldly stood up and waved. The laser turned off and I recognized Regina, waving back.
"It's time for our airplanes to fly," I called out, only to discover the others were standing in the doorway, behind me, snickering.
"What's so funny," I asked, trying not to laugh at how silly I must have looked, diving under the closest bed.
Opening the window, we all took turns tossing airplanes out the window. As the second plane was tossed, Regina disappeared from her vantage point in the next hotel. Before the last plane was sent sailing I saw several people chasing back and forth, collecting our experimental aircraft. I just hoped they were the right people. As the last of our imitation carrier pigeons was collected, I closed the window and reached for a blanket.
"Now what?" Suzette wondered.
"Now we do four things; first, my ears hurt, let’s turn down the volume on the TV. Second, for the benefit of anyone listening in on us, I'll change back into Sally. Third, we order dinner, and fourth, we do one of the few things that drives me nutty ... we wait."
"What are we waiting for?" Suzette asked.
"For Frances to escort us to the airport," Jean-Paul replied.
"What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Suzette wondered aloud.
"There are more pictures to color," I sarcastically replied.
"I wonder if Frances would let us go to a concert. There's one being put on by a school from the US. I’ve heard they’re very good," Kimberley suggested.
"I'm pretty sure that he won't allow that," Jean-Paul commented. "Frances isn't likely to let us out of this suite until it's time to leave for the airport."
"Couldn't we at least ask? There are five of them and only four of us," Suzette added.
"You're forgetting one thing; Sally can't sit still for two hours and twenty-seven minutes. It will take three people to keep track of her; or rather, to keep track of me," I proudly declared.
"How do you know that the concert runs two hours and twenty-seven minutes?" Jean-Paul wondered.
Kimberley and I looked at each other and giggled. "Time to go back into character," I declared, hopping off the ottoman, where I been sitting. I tossed my necklace to Kimberley as I danced my way into the bathroom.
'I may be back in Sally mode, but that doesn't mean I want to be wet, although I may not have a choice if we get on that plane to France.'
Frances did deny us access to the Manor's concert. I spent the next few hours coloring, dancing, snacking at my dinner, and in general doing my very best at driving everyone crazy.
'Hey, I take my assignments very seriously.'
Sally's bedtime arrived and Kimberley eagerly took me in to get me ready for bed. One last trip to the bathroom and it was back into the heavy nighttime diaper. After being snuggly tucked in, Suzette and Jean-Paul came in to kiss me goodnight. Then Suzette told me a lovely bedtime story.
As everyone was leaving, I called out "Belle."
"What can I do for you, Munchkin?" Kimberley came back to sit on the edge of my bed.
I waited until Jean-Paul and Suzette were out of earshot before I asked, "You sleep wiff me again?"
Kimberley thought for a moment before answering, "Sleep with you? I don't know about that, I mean, why would I want to sleep in the same bed as the crazy Munchkin?" She paused for a second, looking at my instantly painted on sad puppy dog face, before grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Of course I will. It would be so lonely in that huge bed, all alone. Will you save me some space?"
I smiled and nodded, "And pillow too."
Kimberley pulled the blankets loose, smiled and added, "I'll be back in a little bit. Keep the bed warm."
Kimberley collected her pajamas and headed for the bathroom.
’Well, we missed the concert. By now, everyone is back on the busses heading for Toronto. I hope my message wasn't too crazy. They should be able to decode it okay. I just hope it was Mr. Black's people we saw picking up the airplanes. I wonder how Mary Beth reacted when we didn't show up. I wonder if she'll miss me ...’ yawn ’If I'm ...’ yawwwwwn ’stuck in France - - - ‘
I must have been under more stress than I realized because I fell asleep before Kimberley came back.
December 17th 2004
The next morning, after ordering breakfast, the others started packing the suitcases. The good thing about being two, or acting like you're two, is that you aren't expected to help with things like packing. The bad thing about being two and not helping with things like packing is ... it's BORING.
About eleven, there was a familiar knock, or rather pounding, on the door announcing that Frances had arrived. He had Logan in tow, along with a cart for the luggage. After the luggage was loaded, we were off. René and two others joined the procession as we left the suite. With Frances in the lead, and Kimberley holding my hand, we were herded toward the elevator and the main lobby.
Frances and Logan took the four of us in the first elevator, while René and the others took the luggage in the second. Frances did something odd; part way down he stopped the elevator and we waited for about four minutes before continuing down.
When we got to the lobby I realized why Frances stopped our elevator. He wanted to make sure that René and the others got there first, because each of them was standing by one of the lobby exits.
As Sally I didn't care about Frances and what he was doing. My job was to dance, and play, and have fun; a hard thing to do when you're being taken away from your family and friends. Doing my best at playing, I dragged Kimberley around the lobby, avoiding the exits. Suddenly something flew past my nose. I turned quickly to see a paper airplane land gently, a few feet away. I dashed over to the airplane and snatched it off the floor. Looking in the direction the plane had come from, I saw the smiling face of a young girl, that I guessed was about twelve.
"I'm sorry, I didn’t see you coming. Mom will get mad if I hit anyone with my airplane," she apologized.
"You make good airplane. Me try?" I asked.
"You like to fly paper airplanes?" she asked.
"Me like airplane. Me Sally."
"Hi Sally. My name is Lisa. We're just checking in. You want to come to my room later?"
"Me leave today. Time to go home."
"That's too bad; I could use someone to spend some time with. My Mom will be in meetings during the day and I have to stay in our room, alone."
"Lisa, come now." Someone called.
"I have to go now," Lisa complained. "You can keep that airplane. I'll make another."
"Bye," I said, as I turned, waving.
I saw Lisa take a woman's hand, as she turned I recognized Regina.
Trying to hide my surprise, Regina smiled and winked at me as she took Lisa's hand and disappeared into an elevator.
I didn't know what was going to happen, but I knew that our message had been received and there was a plan unfolding. Unfortunately, unfolding the airplane in my hand gave me no clues; it was blank. Kimberley and I would have to pay attention and be ready to move when the time came, or an opportunity presented itself.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 25
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Goodbye Quebec,
Goodbye Canada,
and Goodbye - Frances.
Authors note: I apologize for the size of this chapter, but there was a lot that needed to happen. Enjoy dear friends, as the Munchkin strikes again.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly Hart,
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 25
By Penny Reed Cardon
The passenger terminal at the Quebec airport wasn't too bad, but then who am I to judge. After all, I've only seen three airport terminals. At least there was lots of room for a Munchkin to run around and play, if only they'd let me. On the other hand, the ride to the airport was terrible. The van that Frances stuffed all of us in, was too small. There was luggage stacked everywhere and I had to sit on Kimberley's lap. As Sally, I very quickly became frustrated; I could only move a little bit, the coloring books were packed away, and after I'd been singing for a little while, Frances yelled at me. I knew that somehow Mr. Black was going to rescue us, but in the meantime Frances scared me.
The line to check in at Air Canada was pretty short, and I could move around; back and forth between the ropes. I'd sneak past Mamma and loop around Pappa, then back past Mamma and loop around Kimberley.
After we left our luggage to be x-rayed at the CATSA station, Frances herded us to the line for our security screening. Now THAT was a long line. Frances and Logan were in front, with René and the other two behind us, as we started zigzagging back and forth. Move four feet and wait five minutes, move four feet and wait five minutes, and so on and so on. I knew what standing still would do to Sally, especially after being cooped up in the van, so to stay in character, I had to start moving about, which upset Frances even more.
The more I had to move, the more Frances complained. After a few minutes of me circling about and bumping into him, Frances came unglued and yelled at me, to the displeasure of all the other travelers.
Having seen Sally do it several times in the DVD's, I frowned, took a deep breath, and blew raspberries.
"Sally!" Suzette scolded. "We've talked about this before. You know you're not supposed to do raspberries at strangers, it’s rude."
"Sorry Mamma," I replied, even though I wasn't.
"You should apologize to him, not to me, and you need to be more careful about bumping into people," she added.
"Sorry mister," I said, as sweetly as I could without choking on it. Frances grumbled and turned away.
I went to hold Kimberley's hand. She knelt down and whispered, "Munchkin, stay away from him. If you make him mad, he'll keep a closer watch on us. We'll never be able to slip away, if he's watching us all the time."
About that time, one of the CATSA agents came over and talked quietly with Suzette and Jean-Paul, for a few minutes. Before I knew what was happening, Jean-Paul took my free hand and said to Kimberley and me, "Come on girls, we're getting out of this line."
"What!" Frances turned and cried out, when he heard Jean-Paul. "Stop! You aren't going anywhere without-"
"Are you a member of this family?" the agent sternly asked Frances.
"No, but I’m responsible for-"
"And I'm responsible for the security of this airport and the safety of everyone here. Would you be interested in spending some time in one of my holding cells?" the agent demanded.
"No, I wouldn't," Frances grumbled.
"I thought not. Stay in this line and please … try to stay calm. From the size of this line, your wait should only be another twenty minutes. They'll be waiting for you at the departure gate."
If he were bronzed, Frances could have been a statue; an ugly statue, with his mouth gaping open, and fire coming out his eyes.
As the CATSA agent led us towards the First Class security gate, which only had two people waiting, I turned back towards Frances and blew one short burst of raspberries.
"Sally!"
"Sorry Mamma," but I really wasn't.
Before the CATSA agent left us, Jean-Paul and Suzette talked with him for a few moments more. Then they thanked him for helping us.
"Sally, say thank you to the nice man," Suzette prompted.
I stopped my impersonation of a bouncy Tiger and smiled at the nice man. Then I motioned for him to bend down.
Instead of bending down, he dropped to one knee, which did what I wanted, it put him within striking distance. Without warning I pounced on him, throwing my arms around him. I gave him one of my best hugs, which he returned. Pulling back, I snuck in a little kiss to his nose before saying, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, young miss," he replied, with a big smile. "You be a good girl now, okay?" To which I nodded.
'Ooh, I like this guy. He didn't call me little.'
I gave him another really big hug, before letting go. He stood up and reached into his pocket. Pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped his eyes and waved.
Suzette took my hand and led me toward the security gate. I turned back in time to get in a last smile and wave, which he returned; before he went back to doing his job.
After we were through the security gate, I was sitting in a chair, looking back at the gate, while Kimberley put my shoes back on. To my surprise, I saw not one, but two very familiar faces coming through the same security gate. I started to wave, but at the last second remembered, that as Sally, I shouldn't know RJ or Miss Adams. What really had me confused, was there were two boys with them; two boys that looked strangely familiar. I didn't know if I should point out RJ and Miss Adams to Kimberley. In the end, I decided that Kimberley would find out soon enough. I smiled, safe in the knowledge that whatever the plan was, it was beginning to unfold. With any luck, when their plan came to its conclusion, Kimberley and I would be returning home to Immigration Manor.
Kimberley had finished with my shoes and I hopped off the chair, just as RJ, Miss Adams, and the two boys walked past. I took one more look past the security gates, at the line of people waiting. I saw Frances at the end of one of the zig-zags. He still had three zigs and two zags to go before reaching the gates. As Sally is always happy, I smiled and waved in response to Frances' hateful glare.
As we walked down the concourse, Miss Adams and company, managed to stay about a hundred feet in front of us. The gears in my mind were turning rapidly, as they usually did. I couldn’t quite figure out what was happening. Were they intentionally leading us or did we just happen to be following?
I knew that something was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. Because I knew I wouldn't be Sally much longer, I pretty much slipped out of character, and happily held Kimberley's hand. Even though I was feeling good, I was still a little nervous about Frances catching up to us, so I looked back up the concourse periodically. I was met with yet another surprise; after looking back one time, I looked forward and only saw RJ and Miss Adams; the two boys had disappeared.
We'd walked almost the entire length of the concourse when I saw Mr. Black and Jacqueline in the distance. As we got closer, Suzette recognized Jacqueline and rushed ahead, with the rest of us quickly catching up.
"Where are my girls?" Suzette demanded, once she was close enough for Jacqueline to hear her.
"Relax Suzette. They're fine, they're both fine. They send their love and are anxious to see you both," Jacqueline assured her, while putting one arm around her shoulders. "Arabelle wants to know what's taking so long, and Sally, I'm afraid, has become quite a handful. She insists that someone made her a princess and she wants to be treated like a real princess."
"Oops, we may have created a monster," Kimberley mumbled.
"I'm afraid that would have been us," I confessed aloud.
"So, you're not talking like Sally anymore?" Mr. Black quizzed.
"Is there a reason for me to continue portraying the Munchkin Princess?"
"Don't start that with me, young lady. I'm wise to your little game," he sarcastically replied. "And no, there isn't any reason to continue with the masquerade."
"Thank you. How did you manage getting us through security so quickly?"
"Actually, we had nothing to do with it," RJ informed us. "Wednesday and I, were supposed to follow you down the concourse and let Mr. Black know when you were in position. The actions of the security officer, took everyone by surprise. We don't know who he is, or why he did what he did."
"His name is Leon Defrece," Suzette informed us. "He's head of security here. He helped us, because of how Frances reacted to Sally, I mean, Matilda dancing around. Leon knows what it's like to be scored by ignorant on-lookers. You see, he and his wife have three children, and their youngest daughter is autistic. She also has … special needs."
This announcement took everyone by surprise and the magnitude of his kindness suddenly took on a new meaning. I wished I could have given him another hug. The six of us were quiet for a few moments.
Interrupting our thoughts, Mr. Black's PDA chimed. Checking the message he exclaimed, "We're out of time. Your security detachment has just cleared the TSA checkpoint and they're running down the concourse. Jean-Paul, if you and Suzette would please come with us, we'll take you to your daughters. RJ, good luck to you on your travels. Kimberley, Matilda, these cases are yours. Enjoy the flight and I'll see you both later."
Jacqueline handed us the two carry on suitcases she had next to her.
Mr. Black produced a key and opened a door, into what appeared to be a service corridor. Jean-Paul, Suzette, and Jacqueline quickly went through, followed by Mr. Black, who locked the door from the inside.
"Let's go girls! We need to get you changed," RJ said, as he led us down the concourse another fifty yards or so, to a single stall, family, restroom. "Sorry, but we're out of time and there's only one. We don't want they're security team seeing you before you've changed, so you'll have to change at the same time. Sorry about that."
Taking me in one hand and her carry on bag in the other, Kimberley started towards the restroom, saying, "Come on Munchkin, I don't want to be out here when Frances shows up. He'll want to know where Jean-Paul and Suzette are."
"I'm with you. Have fun with Frances, RJ," I called back to the confused pair.
"I don't even know Frances," I heard RJ say, as the door closed.
"Why don't you use the toilet while I check out these bags?" Kimberley suggested. Taking the bag from me, she folded down the baby changing station.
"I think I'm a little big for that," I sarcastically commented.
"Are you sure? If I left your head hanging off one end, your bottom should fit at the other end. Of course, I'd have to hang your feet from the ceiling," she teasingly replied, as she laid the bag on the changing station and opened it. "Hmm, this is interesting. Munchkin, I heard a rumor about you having a little trouble at school a couple of months back, on Freaky Friday. Is there any truth the rumor?"
"Don't tell me, the suite cases are full of boy’s clothes!"
"As I see it there are two options; change into male mode, or face an angry Frances."
"Some choice. Just curious, what underwear did they pack for me?" I asked.
Kimberley replied by holding up a pair of tighty-whities, that looked like they'd fit Charles.
"You sure those aren't yours?" I queried.
"The tag on this case says Jeffrey Cardon and the other one says ... It looks like I'm going to be Jonathan for a while. That makes sense; Frances would be looking for two girls. Both nametags are in English, not French. I guess that means we're back to speaking English."
"Great! I'm changing names, language, and gender. Instead of being Mr. Black's daughter and speaking French, I'm RJ's son and speaking English; and somewhere in there I spent some time as Sally. I think I need to have a long visit with Ellen, when we get back, I think I'm suffering from an identity crises." That had Kimberley laughing as I continued, "Well, this Jeffrey has a little problem holding his water, so I think I'll stick with the pull-ups for now. How many of those did you pack in the diaper bag?"
Dropping the disgusting piece of adolescent male clothing, Kimberley retrieved her silk diaper bag. "There's only five here."
"Well, I only had one accident yesterday and, so far, none today; knock on wood. Those five will have to do, until we get whereever we're going and we can get some more," I said, as I stood up, pulling the pull-up I'd been wearing back into place.
"There are only two sets of clothes in this bag, so I don't think we'll be gone too long."
"That's good. Hand me a pair of pants and could you please help me with these silly buttons?" I pleaded.
'Buttons all the way down your back, not a brilliant idea. It must have been thought up by some sadistic nanny a hundred years ago; a diabolical way to prevent some poor defenseless little girl from undressing herself. Oh well, some things never change.'
After turning into Jeffrey, we carefully packed my wig and the pull-ups into my bag. Then we stuffed Sally's clothes and the tighty-whities in the garbage can. Taking my bag, I left Kimberley to change into Jonathan.
'I guess it’s a good thing my hair hasn't grown too much. I do miss having the long hair tickling my ears. I think when we get back home I'll see if I can get a different wig, something in my natural blond color this time … brunettes have way too much fun.'
I found RJ leaning against a vending machine. "Where's Miss Adams, or is it Mrs. Cardon?" I wondered aloud, in English.
"It's Miss Baker, she's your governess. She's gone ahead to the gate to find us some seats."
"Am I so rotten that I need a governess?"
RJ led me to a nearby chair. RJ sat while I stood next to him, so he was at my level and could speak quietly, "Rotten? Not that I am aware of, overly curious perhaps, but not rotten. Our cover story is that I'm out of the country frequently. Miss Adams has been your governess for the last four years. You and Jonathan spend about three months during the summer traveling with me. The rest of the time you spend on our estate in Colorado. Private tutors, horses, four-wheelers, jet-skis. I'm gone one or two weeks out of four."
"Hmm, sounds like a rough life," I commented with a smile.
"Oh yes, a very rough life. Can you remember all that?"
I recited everything back just as he told it to me, then asked a lot of questions, what breed of horses, the size of the estate, make of the jet-skis and four-wheelers, number of tutors and subjects, what part of Colorado, do we ski, or snowboard, what countries have we visited, how many languages do I speak ... just a few details.
"Hmm, I think we should have you come up with the cover stories in the future."
"In the future, what do you mean, in the future? How often have you done this kind of thing? I didn't find any computer records of anything like this, happening before."
"And you won't find any records, either. This is the first time we've had to mount a rescue mission, and hopefully the last. Oh good, there's Jonathan. Can you fill him in on the details?" He stood and waved, so Jonathan would know where we were.
"No problem, all I need is someplace where we won't be overheard," I assured him.
"At last, we're all together again," RJ commented, as Jonathan arrived where we were standing. "Let's see if we can find Miss Adams."
As we arrived in the gate area, we located Miss Adams. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her or rather, who was sitting in the seat behind her … Frances. RJ, not knowing any better, went right over and sat next to Miss Adams. Personally I didn't feel like I wanted to push my luck, at least not just yet.
Setting my small bag down next to Miss Adams's, I took Kimberley's hand and started dragging her towards the windows at the end of the concourse. In my best 'I'm not scared' voice said, "Come on Jonathan, let's go watch the airplanes." At that moment, I'd have done almost anything to get away from Frances and the others.
While standing by the windows, I filled Kimberley in on our new cover story. I wanted to send RJ a note, asking about a few more details. It was then I realized, no one had said anything about our PDA's. I began to wonder if they were in our bags and we'd just missed seeing them. Asking Kimberley, she hadn't seen them either, so we were still stuck without any advanced communication abilities.
About twenty minutes had gone by, when Miss Adams came over to where we were standing, asking, "All right you two, why are you hiding over here?"
"You see the man sitting in the row behind Dad (RJ)? Oh wait ... he just stood up and started pacing; the man in the cheap brown sweater." Kimberley asked Miss Adams.
"I see him, so what?"
"That's Frances," I spoke softly, not wanting to be overheard. Miss Adams expression showed that she didn't know who he was.
"He's in charge of the team that have been watching the Moreau's," I clarified.
"Oh, that's funny," she was definitely amused. "I guess that explains why he sounds so upset. It also explains why he's ordering those other two guys around."
"Two?" I asked.
"Frances had four others with him at the hotel," Kimberley explained.
Miss Adams paused for a moment listening to an overhead announcement. "Oh well, no time to worry about it now, that's our flight. Stand tall, walk fast, and pretend you don't know him."
As we were walking to rejoin RJ, and about to pass Frances, I realized that neither he nor any of his people had recognized us. With that knowledge I had what someone would have referred to as a scathingly brilliant idea.
'I wonder which old movie that came from? It had to be from some old movie Mom forced me to watch. Gee, I miss her.'
Asking RJ, um, Dad, for a note pad and a pen, caused a few strange looks, from RJ and Kimberley. Reluctantly he dug a pad out of his computer case. Handing it to me, along with a pen, I sat down and quickly started writing, as neatly as I could.
Tearing off the page, I neatly folded it. Returning the pad and pen to RJ, I said, "Stay close guys, I may need your help."
With confusion on their faces, they followed, as I boldly walked over to Frances; who was talking on his cell phone. He tried to ignore me as I stood a few feet away, staring at him. Being polite, I patiently waited, for a few moments, before interrupting, in English, "Excuse me."
Frances rotated in his chair, as much as he could, trying to rudely brush me aside.
I moved a step closer and asked, "Excuse me, but is your name Frances?"
“Allez-vous et arráªtez de me déranger! Vous DAMN Brat peu gáªnant!” He loudly spit out his reply.
(Go away and stop bothering me! You Damn annoying little Brat!)
Pretending that I didn't know French, I ignored his insults.
"I apologize if I'm disturbing you, but you look like the man the girl described as Frances," I said quickly, holding up the note I'd written. "She asked me to give this to a man named Frances. So are you Frances?"
"Oui, mon name est Frances. Of what girl do you speak?" He gruffly replied in English, but with a very heavy French accent.
"She was a French girl, almost as tall as me. She had brown pigtails, a long dress, and a cute smile. Anyway, she asked me if I would give this note to someone named Frances, and then she described who she meant. So, if you are Frances, I guess this is for you." With that said I handed him the note. Turning to leave I paused to say, "Have a nice day."
As we headed for the gate, I turned back in time to see Frances shred the note. I called to Kimberley, so she could enjoy the show. There were pieces of paper flying everywhere. Then suddenly Frances stormed out of the waiting area and headed back up the concourse.
"What did you write?" Kimberley asked.
"I'll tell you when we're on the plane," I replied with a smile. "By the way, where are we going?"
"I've no idea. This has all happened so fast, I haven't thought to ask, and you've kept me so preoccupied, that I haven't been paying attention to the announcements," she replied.
As we arrived at the gate, RJ presented all four boarding passes to be scanned. As the lady from the airline handed them back she said, "Thank you, Mr. Cardon. Enjoy your stay in London."
Kimberley and I looked at each other in surprise. Then we smiled, and giggled at each other as we went through the gate and down the companion way.
'Yes, I know, giggling is a girl’s thing, but at that moment it was the right thing to do.'
"Have you ever been to London?" I asked, as we made our way down the companion way.
"No, we’ve been in several European countries, Asia, and were scheduled to go to Australia next summer; I guess we'll have to learn real English for that one. But, we've never been anywhere in the United Kingdom," Kimberley replied, I guess a little too loudly.
"Then this will be a treat for both of you," added the stewardess, taking us by surprise, as we stepped onboard the airplane. As we suddenly looked at her, she formally greeted us, "Welcome aboard."
We were soon seated, I was next to RJ, while Kimberley and Miss Adams were in the row behind us. Traveling first class wasn't bad, I could get used to that kind of life style. There was only one little problem; because I'm so small and the seats in first class are so big, AND the seatbelts are mounted midway along the side of the seat instead of at the back of the seat, the stewardess put me in a special booster seat, just so the seatbelt would be tight; geez.
Once more I found myself with nothing to do and no PDA to do it with.
'I've got to find a way to get my own PDA, something that I can keep when I have to turn the others in. I wonder what they're going to do with the old ones when they upgrade the rest of the school. Better yet, with my security specialty, I wonder if I can talk them into getting me a special PDA; one that's a step above the others. Hmm, that's worth thinking about, it'll take one heck of a sales job, but if I can pull it off, I'll never be stuck on an airplane twiddling my thumbs again. I guess I could kill some time by talking; what a crazy idea.'
"Excuse me RJ, may I ask you some questions? Or should I call you Dad?"
"Well, that's two questions. And I guess for the next little while, you should call me dad. What other questions are on your mind?"
"I was wondering, who were the two boys that came through security with you and Miss Adams?" I quietly asked.
"Why, that was you and Jonathan, don't you remember?"
"I remember everything. I remember spending two weeks learning not to cry, when Kimberley changed my diapers. I remember trading places with Sally and Arabelle. I remember Frances springing the trap, and wondering if Kimberley and I were ever going to see the Manor again. I remember Frances, storming in the next morning, and ... all right, I don't remember everything, but I know that Kimberley and I went through security, with Jean-Paul and Suzette. So who went through security with you?"
"Jeffrey, you're not getting into the spirit of this conversation. You don't know anyone named Jean-Paul, Suzette, Arabelle, or Sally. You and Jonathan came through security with Miss Adams and me, remember now?"
"Oh, yes, I remember now; silly me. So, why are we going to London?"
"Actually, I'm the only one going to London. When we get to Newark, you, Jonathan, and Miss Adams will be changing planes, you're going home; that is, you'll be flying to Denver. By the way, they were two students from Wardenclyffe, who happened to look like you two."
"I guess that makes sense. So why are you going to London?"
"From London I'll hop over to Edinburgh, for a day."
"What's in Edinburgh?"
"One of several computer supply houses that the school uses."
'Things are looking up; this is going to take a lot of work, and fast talking.'
"So, what are the chances of me going with you to Edinburgh?"
"I'd say about ninety-nine percent against."
"So, you're saying there's a chance!"
"Jeffrey, you and Jonathan will be going back home. Your rescue in Quebec was an unforeseen emergency. However, there's no need for you to go with me to Edinburgh."
"But the tickets-"
"It's all ready been arranged,"
"But, why CAN'T I go with you to Edinburgh?"
"Because, it isn't necessary for you to go with me. I've already forwarded your input on the new PDA's. I'm just going to do a final checkout of the upgraded model and arrange to purchase the quantity we need."
"But I found the problem with the interface to the PC's."
"Anyone could have found that."
"Well, what about the hole I found, that let me link my PDA directly with Kimberley's? And after linking with her PDA, I was able to route a signal into the server and then back out, going into your PDA. You can't tell me that anyone could have replaced your main screen background while your PDA was in your hand and make you think it was a server error."
"Wait ... that was you? But, I traced that back to Kimberley. I was surprised when she denied all knowledge of the incident. Do you know how much trouble she was in because of you?"
"Oops, me and my big mouth. I hate it when I'm stupid," I softly cursed at myself.
"Okay Jeffrey, from the beginning, what did you do?"
"I can't show you how I did it, I don't have my PDA. It's back at school."
"Jeffrey!"
"Oh, all right, I'll try to describe what I did. It would be easier to show you."
"I'll allow for some errors in your descriptions. First off, how did you link into Kimberley's PDA without her knowing it?"
Looking back, I didn't need to worry about being bored. I should have been worried about what would come out of my mouth. After I finished describing my various activities, RJ decided it was time to trade seats with Kimberley.
"Jeffrey, what did you do? Dad looks upset, or is it rattled? I've always had a hard time reading him," Kimberley whispered, as she sat down.
"I forgot to keep my big mouth shut, is what I did," I softly mumbled,
"Keep your mouth shut about what?"
"Before I answer your question, I need to apologize for getting you into trouble."
"You got me into? … When did you get me into trouble? ... Wait a second, about a week after we got the demo PDA's, RJ accused me of tampering with his system. He even had a printout, showing a data trace, leading from his PDA to mine. I didn't know anything about it, but he had the trace and there was nothing I could say, or do, to defend myself."
"I'm sorry. I didn’t think you’d got in trouble, because of me."
"Do you realize ... I spent a week doing potatoes, because of your little prank, you little-"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" I interrupted, before she could finish her sentence. I had scooted as far away from her as I could, which wasn't far, being that I was strapped into that booster seat.
Kimberley, taking advantage of my confinement, leaned over and put her angry face so close to my terrified face that our noses touched just briefly. "I’ll make a deal with you, teach me how you did it and I won't rip your arms out of their sockets."
I blinked, seeing an evil smile grow across her face, as she backed away. Finally realizing she wasn't really mad at me, I relaxed. Wrong thing to do, after being afraid I was going the get my face rearranged. I suddenly knew I had another problem to worry about, getting to the bathroom before my pull up leaked.
Looking at my pants, I meekly asked, "Jonathan, can you help me out of this seat? I need to, um ... Well, I need to go."
"Sure thing." She quickly unbuckled me and gently helped me up.
I motioned for her to lean down. "I also need something out of my suitcase," I whispered.
"I thought so. I saw it in your face. It's my fault, I'm sorry," she replied.
Kimberley got my bag down from the overhead compartment. Setting it on her seat, she pulled one zipper open just far enough to pull out what I needed. She slipped the pull up under my shirt, so it wasn't obvious, and then she let me out into the aisle. It’s a good thing for me that the shirt was larger than I usually wear. The restroom was only two rows up, and fortunately it wasn't in use.
Once inside, I paused a moment looking around, before I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants.
'It's a good thing I'm small. At least I can turn around and sit down, without hurting myself. I don't know how someone like RJ could use this thing without hitting their head or tripping over their own feet. Guess I didn't miss anything on the flights to Quebec. Maybe diapers are a good thing. Instead of spending money on these tiny bathrooms, they could just diaper everyone, before they get on the plane. I'm sure that would be welcomed by all ... NOT!'
Kimberley was waiting for me when I went back to my seat. "I'm really sorry, Jeffrey. I didn't mean to scare you like that."
"Don't worry about it. I should have been watching the time a little closer. I should have gone to the bathroom twenty minutes before you changed places with Dad."
"Really? You mean you held it for more than two hours? Jeffrey, that's great."
"Hey yeah, I didn't think of it that way. This might be easier than I thought."
"Now, now, don't get too carried away. You also haven't had much to drink today. Two hours is still really good though."
"Okay, you're the teacher here, what's next?"
"Well, I still think that you should go every hour and a half, maybe pushing it to an hour an forty-five minutes."
"You're right. What do we tell them?" I ask, pointing back to RJ and Miss Adams.
"The truth. After all, they're going to notice how often you'll be going to the restroom. I'm sure they'll be supportive. Remember, they're part of the staff at Immigration Manor. They'll go out of their way to help a student."
"If you say so, it's just a little embarrassing, you know, having other people know I'm ten years old and I’m being toilet trained."
"Better to have them know and helping you, than to have them not know and have accidents."
"Yeah, I guess you're right about that."
"So tell me, what did you write, that had Frances shredding the paper?" Kimberley asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Give it your best shot. Frances was really upset. I’ve never seen paper fly in so many directions.”
“Okay, Best as I can remember, it went something like this;
”Dear Mr. Frances,
I am pleased to inform you that your suspicion of an exchange of Jean-Paul’s girls with two American girls was correct. Impersonating Sally has been a unique experience for me, one that I will remember always, and one that I will never repeat. The real Sally and Arabelle have been outside of your feeble attempt at control, for the last three days. I would love to tell you where they are, but I do not possess that knowledge.
As for Jean-Paul and Suzette, some friends of mine escorted them off the airport grounds shortly after we started down the concourse. They are now in route, to be united with their daughters. Given the fact that you are in possession of their cell phones, tracking them by that means will simply not be possible. Looks like you goofed again.
As for the notes and designs on Jean-Paul's laptop, think again. While he and I were discussing computers, I learned that if the wrong password is used, when logging in, the hard drive will erase itself. It seems that Jean-Paul knows as much about computers, as he does about nuclear weapons.
If I were you, I would start thinking about a different line of work. I have just a little recommendation, if I may be so bold, I wouldn’t put on your resume that you are a former member of French Army Intelligence, being that you've just been outwitted by a small ten-year-old girl.
Have a nice day.”
Kimberley was having a hard time not wetting her own pants, she was laughing so hard. She was drawing a lot of attention from the other passengers, not to mention RJ and Miss Adams. Of course we had to tell them why Kimberley was laughing so much and what I written to Frances. When everyone had calmed down, Kimberley admitted, “Jeffery, I’m glad you’re on our side. I don’t think I would want to go up against you head to head,”
When we got off the plane in Newark, New Jersey, we were met by Ellen. I was happy, although surprised, to see her. Her eyes still twinkled with the love of a surrogate mother.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, as I gave her a hug.
"Checking up on you, you seem to have stumbled into more excitement than you bargained for. Also, as we discussed in my office, before this roller-coaster ride began, I'm here to pick up the pieces."
"But how did you know where to find us, and ... well, how did you get in here?"
"First, Mr. Black has been updating me every hour, keeping me informed of your status and location. Second, I'm in between flights, the same as you. I'll be escorting you and Jonathan back home."
"I'm afraid there's been another little change of plans," RJ announced, reminding us that he was still with us.
"What are you talking about?" Ellen demanded.
"It seems that due to his naughtiness, Jeffrey has been requested to accompany me to Edinburgh. Assuming he still wants to go?" RJ informed us, and asked a silly question.
"You mean I'm not in trouble because of what I did?" I blurted.
"Oh yes, you are in trouble, and you will pay the consequences for your naughtiness, but that will wait until later. It seems that someone thinks your skills could be useful. However, it's up to you; no one will force you to go."
"Yeah, sure, I'd love to go. What about Jonathan, or MayBee?"
"Sorry, the invitation was only for you. Jonathan will be going back to the Manor with Ellen and Miss Adams," RJ replied coldly.
"Hey, I have no problem with that," Kimberley gracefully admitted. "I could use a couple of days of peace and quiet."
I had Kimberley bend down. "How about sleeping alone?" I whispered in her ear.
"I'll manage. How about you?" she whispered back.
"I hadn't thought about that," I shyly admitted.
Turning back to the others, I asked, "What about Mary Beth? Does she know where I am, that I'm all right? Can she come with us?"
"I've spent many hours working with Mary Beth and Angel. They were both highly agitated, when you two missed your rendezvous, with them."
Kimberley put a hand on my shoulder and asked, "Ellen, don't you think you should use words that are easier for him to understand?"
"Hey, just because I spent the last three weeks using the vocabulary of a stunted pigmy, doesn't mean I've forgotten everything I knew before we started this game of masquerade. I know what agitated means," I complained, pulling away from Kimberley.
"I'm just kidding," she admitted jokingly.
I ignored Kimberley and asked, "So, do they know we've been rescued?"
Ellen was still chuckling, so RJ answered the question, "They were told that a rescue was being planned, I don't know if they were informed that it's been successful. You could send them a note, telling them you're safe and when you expect to see them again."
"I would, but I don't have a way of sending a note to anyone. It would be nice if someone had an extra PDA or two," I complained.
"Oops, I forgot!" Ellen opened her bag. Digging out two PDA's, she handed one each to me and Kimberley. "You'll have to figure out whose is whose."
That didn't take long; we powered up and attempted to log-on, then exchanged PDA's.
As we sent notes to our respective partners, Ellen continued, "RJ, getting back to the question of Jeffrey accompanying you to Edinburgh. I want to have a talk with him before I'll allow him to go. When does the plane leave?"
Mary BethSorry I missed the party and concerts, I always
liked listening to you sing. Some jerk named
Frances, kept us hostage in Quebec. Right now
I'm in the airport in Newark, New Jersey. Just
got my PDA back and thought you'd want to
know that I'm OK. I don't know where I going from
here. There are two options; back home or
England. I'll let you know when the ADULTS make
up their minds.I've missed you.
Huggs
Matilda.
"We've got about an hour before they start boarding, but I'll need to arrange for his ticket right away," I heard RJ saying, as I finished my note to Mary Beth.
"I see. Well, on the surface I'd say he's fine and going with you would not cause any problems. However, I need to have a little chat with both of them, before I can make an accurate determination, and I reserve the right to keep him here … if I feel it’s in his best interest."
"But?" I tried to interrupt.
"Goats butt, birds fly, and a young man under my care, will have my permission, before leaving the country ... again. Now, shall we go find someplace quiet where we can talk?"
With my excitement somewhat deflated, I nodded. Silently, Ellen took my hand and led me off, with Kimberley following close behind.
Within the secured zone of an airport, there's no such thing as privacy. We did find a waiting area that wasn't overflowing with humanity; an almost abandoned waiting area, for a seldom used airline. Ellen asked me to wait there, while she talked with Kimberley. They went to the other side of the waiting area and talked for about five minutes. While I was waiting for Ellen, I received a note from Mary Beth.
I've missed you too Munchkin.
I'm so glad to hear you're safe.
Look forward to seeing you again.OOXX
MayBee
Seeing the way Mary Beth signed her note, left me wondering and a little confused.
"Tell me, Jeffrey, what happened after you traded places with Sally," Ellen asked, when she came back and sat next to me.
Talk about a Readers Digest abridgement; I squeezed forty-eight hours into fifteen minutes. I omitted certain parts, like Kimberley sleeping with me, and my little trip down memory lane. Being that she already knew about my loss of bladder control, I didn't think I needed to mention that, either; how wrong I was.
“How are you coping with your little problem?” Ellen asked
“Which problem?” I asked, not wanting to volunteer anything.
Ellen leaned closer and softly asked, “I’m talking about the little problem we discussed in my office, the day before we left the school. You were very upset about having lost all control of your bladder. I’m asking how you have been dealing with it, and how you plan to deal with it?”
I could feel my face getting warmer, there’s something about psychiatrists and their being completely blunt, that seems to cause one's natural color to change. “Oh … that!" I softly replied. I paused a moment, taking a deep breath, before I continued. "Well, after we knew the cat was out of the bag, we knew there was no point in waiting to get me out of diapers. After all, I didn't want some nanny in France changing me. Kimberly’s been helping me; she has some experience along those lines. I’ve been going to the bathroom every hour and a half. It was hard at first, getting my muscles to relax when I wanted them to, but it's starting to get easier. I’m using Sally’s pull up diapers, but my supply is running low.”
“How often do you need a change?”
“Only once yesterday and once today, but that was only because Jonathan scared me.”
“I see. Do you think you can keep this up? That is can you remember to go on time?”
“Now that I have this back,” I held up my PDA. “I can set the alarm to go off every hour and a half. So I should be good. We told RJ and Miss Adams, they both agreed to help me.”
“You and Kimberley have done well, having progressed this far on your own, I’m impressed. How many pull ups do you have?”
“Only four,” I sheepishly replied.
“I see. Tell me, Jeffrey, is there anything else that you think I should know about?” she asked, while giving me that look.
'You know the look I mean. Its the one your mother uses when she knows what you've been doing, but she wants you to confess to it, on your own. I've always hated that look. Or maybe it was the fact that I was caught doing what I shouldn't have been doing.'
“Well, maybe one other little thing,” I quickly replied.
"I thought there might be. You want to tell me what happened?"
Reluctantly and briefly, I described what had happened the day before.
"It sounds to me that we have a few things to talk about, don't you agree?" Ellen asked.
'Asking a question that they know the answer to, is almost as bad as ‘the look’. Especially when the answer condemns you to doing something that you really don't want to do.'
Slowly I nodded, but only once.
"I would have to agree. Shall we go talk with RJ?"
Horrified that Ellen would suggest such a thing, "You're not going to tell him about-"
"Jeffrey," she interrupted. "Of course I'm not going to tell him what we've been talking about. We do need to discuss this trip to England, though."
Ellen got up and walked as far as the last seat in the row. She patently waited for me, I was definitely not in a hurry-up mood.
"Smile, Jeffrey, things may seem gloomy for the moment, but I assure you, the sun will rise in the east come the morning’s dawn."
“I guess so. I’m going to miss the party, aren’t I?”
“Party, what party?”
“The party at American Girl Place, for years A and B, it’s still on isn’t it?”
“Everything that’s been happening to you and you’re still thinking of others. I’m going to have to have a long talk with your mother,” Ellen teasingly commented.
"A talk with my mother, why?"
"I’m just wondering if she has a secret to raising a child that cares more about others than themselves." Ellen paused for a moment, simply smiling. "About the party, yes, it's still on. As for you attending, I don't know, but I'll see what I can arrange. After all, you suffered several weeks of humiliation, to pay for the party; it would be a shame if you missed out."
"I guess it really wasn't quite as bad as I made it sound. But, don't ever let them ask me to do anything like this again. At least nothing that has anything to do with diapers."
"You have my word. Still, it was a very selfless act."
I didn't have an answer for that one; I just shrugged my shoulders as we walked on.
When we found RJ, he had a cell phone to one ear, while he was working with the ticket agent behind the counter with the other. I didn't think he had a free hand, but somehow he managed to wave us towards where Kimberley and Miss Adams were sitting.
"What's up?" I asked Kimberley, sitting next to her.
"Changing travel plans," she quietly replied.
"Is that good or bad?" I wondered aloud.
"That depends; if we have to spend the night in the terminal, trying to sleep in one of these chairs, it's bad. Anything else is good," Kimberley mumbled.
"Has that happened before?" I asked in surprise.
"We came close one time. The airline had overbooked the flight we were on by about twenty seats. They were asking for people to voluntarily wait for a later flight, which wouldn't be until the next morning. There was some quiet discussion about the two teams staying behind. Before it was decided, enough others volunteered that we didn't need to. Still, the thought of sleeping in these, uncomfortable things, they call chairs, wasn't pleasant."
RJ's approach was noticed and we all turned our attention to him, awaiting our fate.
"I feel like I’m facing a review board," RJ complained sarcastically, as he stood before the four of us. "OK, Ellen, what’s the verdict?"
"I'm afraid that Jeffrey and I need to spend more time together very soon," she calmly replied.
"That's what I expected; Jonathan told me that there Jeffrey had a problem yesterday. He didn’t give me any details, but I knew that you would want to spend some time with him. I'm just glad you were here, Ellen, saved me from having to learn all the details and then making the same decision. However, based on this information, I made some calls and some fast travel arrangements. After a lot of negotiations, I have good news and well ... more good news. First, I was able to re-book everything so we're all on the same flight."
"We're all going to London?" Miss Adams asked.
RJ shook his head, "Not quite, we're all going to Chicago."
"Chicago! Why Chicago?" Kimberley asked.
“Because, in three days time the school will be passing through Chicago. We will rejoin the school there, and then we'll enjoy a leisurely bus ride across the Rockies.”
“Why not fly to Toronto and meet up with the school there?” Miss Adams asked.
“With the concerts, and the sightseeing and the traveling, Ellen and Jeffery wouldn’t have any privacy. This way, they’ll have what ever time they need.”
“Whose idea was that?” Ellen asked.
“Mr. Black’s, actually. He said something about keeping a promise and not wanting to spend more time in your office being chewed out by, or because of a Munchkin.”
I was laughing. Ellen replied simply, “He’s learning.”
“What about your trip to Edinburgh?” I asked, after a few moments.
“It seems that someone still wants you to go with me, so the trip to Edinburgh will be rescheduled, when Ellen approves of you going, that is. Now, if there are no more questions, we have a plane to catch.”
With Ellen and RJ walking in front of me, and Jonathan and Miss Adams walking behind me, I had a very strange feeling. I almost felt like I was a prisoner being escorted to my execution, instead of a flight to Chicago.
‘This is getting really strange; first, I figure out how to get to the Internet through Whittier’s computer system. I happen onto a chat room, where I’m taught about the Internet by someone from Hayfield. Then I end up going to the Manor because of my computer skills. And now someone wants me to go to Edinburgh. Talk about strange, I don’t know if I’m being used, manipulated, or just carefully guided, but into what? I guess only time will tell.’
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 26
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
I've never met him before, who is he?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 26
By Penny Reed Cardon
Hi MayBee
I don’t think I’m ever going to understand
grown-ups. First they tell me I’m going back home
with Miss Adams. Then they ask me if I want to go
to England with RJ, which I think would be lots of
fun. So answer me this, why am I on a plane
headed for Chicago?Oh well, I’ll write more later. I have to shut
down now, the plane is about to take off. I'm not
exactly sure when, but I'll be seeing you again in
a few days.Give yourself a hug from me.
I guess I should be signing this
Jeffrey.
One good thing about flying from Newark to Chicago, you don't have to go through customs. All you have to do is get off the plane and walk for a mile, under the glass arched ceiling of the concourse. Then there's the hour wait for the baggage handling system to get you your luggage; well, RJ's, Miss Adams, and Ellen's luggage. Then you go out to the sidewalk and wait, and wait, and wait - and wait some more. Eventually the right shuttle bus comes along to take you to where the car rental agency is.
All right, so I exaggerated a little ... okay, so I exaggerated a lot. But, being that I have the shortest legs it seemed like I was always running to keep up. Not to mention that I had a hard time remembering not to run around and play when I was bored, playing the part of Sally was more than a little habit forming.
It wasn't until RJ was arranging for a car, well, a minivan that I remembered to turn my PDA back on; discovering I had received a note from Mary Beth.
Jeffrey! When did that happen?OOXX
MayBee
I knew we would have a lot of catching up to do once we got back together. I figured there was nothing wrong with getting an early start, so we sent messages back and forth, while we were going from the airport to the hotel.
In a restroom in the Quebec airport, it was part of
the rescue plan.Hugs
Jeffrey~ ~ ~ ~ ~
So what are you doing in Chicago?
OOXX
MayBee~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Riding in the back of a mini-van.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Where are you going?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A hotel some place in Chicago.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ok. So, what are you doing in Chicago?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Texting with you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Munchkin, you keep this up and you're going to find
yourself on the receiving end of a five minute
tickle session.~ ~ ~ ~ ~
OK, OK, you win! No tickling. We're waiting for
the school to do their last concert in Toronto and
start the long bus trip home. We will join up
when you get to Chicago. In the meantime we'll do
a little sightseeing and I'll have some long talks
with Ellen.~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That's better. I am looking forward to being with
you again. Why the long talks with Ellen?~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I had another of those weird mind things happen.
Ellen says it’s time to dig deep. I'm not sure
what she means, but it sounds scary to me. I don't
think I want her, or anyone else, anyone digging
into my brain.~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Don't be silly. You know you can trust Ellen. She
would never do anything to hurt you.~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I know. Still sounds scary. I wish you were here.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I'm sorry I can't be there for you. We'll be
together again real soon. Then nobody will
separate us.~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sounds good to me. We're at our hotel. Will chat
more later.Hugs
Jeffrey~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tonight’s concert is from eight to ten. Look
forward to chatting after that.OOOOXXXXX
MayBee
'There she goes with the hugs and kisses thing again. She and I have never sent text messages before. I wonder if she always signs like that. I wonder what she meant when she said nobody will separate us. Oh well, more important things to worry about, like being alone with Ellen.'
RJ took care of the details at the hotel registration desk. Kimberley, that is, Jonathan and I shared a room once again, no surprise there. What surprised me a little was that Ellen and Miss Adams also shared a room. I had assumed they would have had their own rooms. As it turned out, the only one with a room to himself was RJ.
We were on the fifteenth floor of The Allerton. It wasn’t as large a room as the one in Quebec, but that's okay. We did have a real good view of Lake Michigan. After getting settled in our rooms, we went out for dinner.
After dinner came my next surprise, well, not really a surprise. It had been several hours since we’d escaped from Frances' forced incarceration. Now I found myself trapped in another hotel room. Understand, I wasn’t trapped because someone was guarding the door, I was trapped because I was being semi-forced to do something I didn’t want to do. I was attempting to break through the drug induced memory losses in an attempt to relive what turned out to be a nightmare, several nightmares actually, for Ellen's diagnosis and dissection. A nightmare that I fervently wished would go away, or better yet, had never happened.
I don't know how long Ellen and I talked that night. I know I did a lot of crying and I think I blanked out once ... maybe twice. I remember waking up early in the morning with Jonathan's arm around me.
Out of habit, I carefully slipped out of bed and quietly tip-toed into the bathroom. Some habits are good. I guess I wasn't quiet enough, because Jonathan was smiling and holding the blankets up when I came out.
The next time I woke, about ninety minutes later, I remember that I was supposed to text with Mary Beth before I went to bed. After I was dressed, and ready to face the day, I sat down and sent my apologize.
MayBee,
I'm sorry I didn't write last night. Ellen kept
me busy. She was asking questions about what
happened at school, trying to get more of my
memories to surface. I spent most of the evening
crying. I hope today is better. We'll be
spending more time together, after breakfast.Hugs
Jeffrey~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Jeffrey,
I was so worried when I didn't hear from you, last
night. Glad you're doing okay. I'm so sorry
you're having to go through that all alone. I wish
I was there to hug you.OOOOXX
MayBee
With Mary Beth signing her notes with those hugs and kisses things I began to wonder how she would respond if I did the same.
I wish you were here too. Hugging Jonathan just
doesn't feel the same.I have to go now. Jonathan looks hungry and if he
eats me for breakfast he'll get sick.OOXX
Jeffrey~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It’s about time. :-)
Not to mention that I'd kill him later.
Send more when you can.
OOOOOXXXX
MayBee
‘Now what did she mean by “it’s about time”?’
We had breakfast in the hotel's restaurant, after which Ellen and I spent more time together. Not what I’d call a fun way to spend your morning.
By lunchtime, Ellen declared that we'd made excellent progress and that we would spend the afternoon with the others, sightseeing. I wasn't sure what she considered excellent progress; personally I was exhausted and wanted a nap.
After lunch, again in the hotel restaurant, we stopped in the lobby where there were lots of brochures for places to see and things to do. Even though it was only a few days before Christmas, the sky was clear and the sun was bright. From my room I'd seen quite a few sailboats running back and forth across Lake Michigan. I found a brochure that advertised sailboats for hire and expressed a desire to try a little sailing. Ellen, however, insisted that it was far too cold to be in a sailboat out on the lake. I settled for a promise of adding some books on sailing to the school library and some small sailboats that could be used on a lake near the school.
It was decided that we needed a little history lesson, so we went on a tour of the Sears Tower. It seems that field trips are not for enjoyment purposes only; they are supposed to be educational. I don't know about everyone else, but I learned a lot on this trip. For one thing, never go into an uncontrolled situation without an alternate means of communication.
After going to the Sky Deck of the Sears Tower we stopped in the gift shop. RJ let me pick out a couple of post cards, which he paid for. I wrote a quick note on each and gave them back to RJ to mail. I figured Charles, Karen and Mom would get a kick out of cards from the Sears Tower. After all, how many buildings do you know that have their own zip code.
We went to dinner at a place called Capi’s Italian Kitchen. It's a restaurant on the west end of what’s called Navy Pier. While we were eating, RJ whispered, “I thought you’d like this place. You can get a better view of the sailboats from here. I think your idea of sailing is a good one, and I look forward to getting some boats for the school.”
After dinner we walked around the pier. I never figured out why they call it ‘Navy Pier’, there aren’t any Navy ships there; at least not until later when I had time to do some research. While on the pier we did get a good look at a four masted schooner by the name of WINDY. She would have really been fun to sail on; maybe another time.
When we got back to the hotel, we discovered there was something RJ didn't tell us, I guess he likes surprises. While they were making arrangements with the airlines and for the hotel in Chicago, they arranged for two suitcases to be sent down from Toronto. To my great surprise and relief, I didn't have to spend the next few days as Jeffrey; without any changes of clothes. After changing and talking with Kimberley, we decided to surprise our friends by not telling them about our change of clothes and portrayed gender. Of course, that wasn't going to stop me from sending messages to my friend and partner.
Hi MayBee,
You won't believe the day I've had. First I spent
the morning with Ellen, then we went to the Sears
Tower. Had dinner on the Navy Pier and I got some
good pictures of a ship named WINDY. How was your
day?OOXX
Jeffrey~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hi Jeffrey,
This is a fine time for you to want to chat. We're
leaving for the hall in ten minutes. Everything is
on the busses, except our travel clothes. We'll
change clothes and leave Toronto right after the
concert. Good thing the seats on the bus are soft,
well they're sorta soft. We should be in Chicago
around one tomorrow afternoon. See you soon.OOOOXXXXXXXXXX
MayBee
'That was a short conversation. Short ... but I'm not sure I’d call it sweet.'
December 19th
After enjoying a late breakfast, we packed everything and waited in the lobby for our bus to arrive ... and we waited ... and we waited. We were told that only one bus would be stopping in Chicago, the others would continue on. As there were some students from each year that wanted to visit American Girl Place, there was some creative juggling of who would be on what bus. There were two things that surprised me later, first, that some students from years G and H wanted to be included in the visit. Second, that there were a number of boys that wanted to see a place that caters to girls, dolls, and doll accessories.
Kimberley and I sat in the lobby talking about nothing in particular, when I saw a bus pull into the hotel's half circle drive. Excitedly, I jumped to my feet. Sadly, I sat down when I saw a second bus pull in behind the first, that couldn't be our bus. A few moments later, Kimberley stood up smiling. I followed where she was looking and saw lots of familiar faces. We raced to the revolving door, at a fast walk. Being that my legs are shorter, I expected Kimberley to win easily. To my surprise, I was first to the door.
'I think she let me win.'
I pushed my way through the revolving door and stopped suddenly when I reached the curb. I stood motionless, looking across the large driveway at the swarm of students spilling out of the busses. I'd just noticed that Kimberley was standing next to me when I heard Hope yelling, "Hey look, there's Matilda!"
"Where's Matilda?" someone cried out.
If I didn't know these were my friends I'd have tried hiding behind Kimberley, because suddenly the swarm was headed in my direction. With almost no time to react we were surrounded with friends and "Hello's," "How are you?", and "Good to see you," from all around. Although I had yet to see her, I knew Mary Beth would be somewhere in the undulating mass of humanity.
Without any advance warning, I felt three things happen. First, pair of arms snaked around my shoulders from behind. Second someone took hold of my hands. And third, someone kissed my left ear. The three sensations brought forth mixed emotions. The arms, encircling me, I recognized as Mary Beth's and I felt elated. My hands were being held by Jenny, which gave both a feeling of calm, mixed with terror. As for the kiss to my ear, I assumed that it came from Mary Beth. I was shocked that she would do something like that with so many people around. It was amazing to me that I could experience so many feelings and emotions all at the same time.
Remembering that Jenny knew how I felt about Mary Beth, I ignored Jenny and dropped my head back. As I laid my head against Mary Beth's shoulder, I looked up to see her smiling face.
Returning her smile, I asked, "Hi MayBee. Miss me?"
"We'll talk about that later. I thought we were meeting Jeffrey and Jonathan."
"Surprise!" Kimberley and I echoed each other.
'We don't make very good twins, but this scene reminds me of another one of mom's old movies; which one ...?'
"Where were you this time?" Mary Beth asked, shaking me from my thoughts.
"Sorry, just trying to remember something. Anyway, our suitcases were delivered last night. We thought it would be fun to surprise you," I replied, as I turned around so I could face Mary Beth. I tried backing up a step, but that was impossible with everyone else around us.
"At least it's a pleasant surprise," I heard Angel declare. As I looked at them, there was no question in my mind about the relationship between Angel and Kimberley.
The friendly chatter continued for several minutes before I noticed Ellen, RJ, and Miss Adams loading suitcases onto the second bus. I was pleasantly surprised to see Kimberley's cases and mine being loaded as well.
I knew that what Kimberley and I had been through the last few days was considered top secret and could only be discussed in private; which made the ensuing conversation somewhat of a challenge. We did our best to maintain the post hypnotic trance cover story for all those around us. I now had to admit to knowing that I'd spent the last few weeks acting like a toddler, and I apologized to everyone for the things I'd done that had upset so many.
Mr. Peterson came to my rescue, although I don't think he realized it, by calling for everyone’s attention. "Now that our two lost sheep have been reintroduced to our flock, I believe there was some interest in a small history lesson. To be precise, history as it is portrayed by the American Girl doll collection."
For a moment I thought the entire school was there, the cheering was so loud.
"That's what I thought," continued Mr. Peterson, waving his arms. "Remember this is to be a learning experience and when we get back you will each be expected to write an essay on what you've learned today." That brought a profound silence, followed by some groans. Mr. Peterson was smiling as he added, "Somewhere between twenty and fifty words should adequately cover the subject."
Everyone was silent again, their minds trying to process what they'd just heard. I think I was the first to start giggling, followed by several others.
"Twenty to fifty words?" Angel asked, stifling a chuckle. "That doesn't even qualify as a drabble, let alone an essay."
"In truth ... you are correct," Mr. Peterson replied, with a smile. "However, it was worth the surprised expressions on everyone’s face. American Girl Place is a few blocks from here. Shall we be off?"
As everyone headed for the busses, I grabbed Mary Beth's arm and skirted around the front of the bus, heading for the crosswalk at the corner, with Angel and Kimberley right on our heels.
"Let's go for a walk," I called out.
"Where we going?" Mary Beth demanded.
"American Girl Place, where do you think we're going?"
"What about the bus?"
By this time there were several others from Year A standing with us at the crosswalk, waiting for the lights to change.
"It's only two blocks away, we went past there yesterday. By the time they get everyone on the busses, get them settled, get the busses out of the parking lot and maneuvered around so they can stop on the right side of the street, we'll be there with time to spare," I explained to those around us.
As the lights changed and the crosswalk indicator displayed a green person walking, I realized there was more than half a busload following after us.
Remembering another one of Mom's old movies, I whispered the title in Mary Beth's ear, "Where Angels go ... Trouble Follows."
She gave me that look of hers, the one that says 'What in the world are you talking about?' I guess she hadn't been paying attention and didn't know how many had followed us. I motioned for her to look behind us.
As she swung back around she started laughing, "So now you're telling me that one of us is an angel?"
"Who's an angel?" Angel asked from over Mary Beth's other shoulder.
"I guess you quality as an angel, Angel," I cheerfully replied. "But, having so many following us reminded me of an old movie I saw once."
"Walking down the street reminds you of a movie?" Kimberley asked.
"Not walking down the street, having everyone following after the four of us."
"So what's the movie?" Angel inquired.
"An old one that you've probably never heard of, 'Where Angels go ... Trouble Follows.' It’s one that my Mom and I saw some place," I replied.
"So, I'm the angel and everyone behind us is the trouble that's following me?" Angel asked.
"Sounds good change to me. It'll be nice to have trouble following someone else for a while," I jokingly confessed.
"Sounds like a candidate for movie night," Hope volunteered from behind me.
"What's movie night?" Kimberley wondered aloud.
Niki piped in, joining the conversation, "It's something we started just after the Munchkin and MayBee got here."
Hope joined in, explaining, "Actually, it's more of a movie morning, because Saturday morning, after swimming, is the only free time we've had. But we all get together and watch old movies."
"Old movies, like how old?" Angel asked.
"The 1939 ‘Wizard of Oz’ is the oldest one we've seen, so far. ‘Where Angels go, Trouble Follows’, was made somewhere around 1967 or 1968," I elaborated.
"Good heavens, those are ancient," Angel gasped. "You got something against modern movies?"
"They may be old, but all the movies we've seen have been really good," Niki defended.
"And we all agree on the movie we're going to watch," Hope added.
"Not only do we agree on the movie, but we research each movie before it is viewed. We have learned something from each movie we have seen. Not to mention that all the movies we have seen come from a time when movie making was considered an art form, requiring craftsmanship; not computer animation," Jenny added.
'When did those two catch up with us?'
"We've been waiting for Matilda to get back to being her old lovable self before watching a movie she’d recommend, an old movie that was one of the first to use something called split screen photography. It sounds kinda strange, but we figured it would be a fun movie," Aaron added.
"What movie would that be?" Angel asked.
"It was something like Caged Parents, was it not?" Jenny inquired.
"Close, but not quite. It's a Walt Disney movie, made in 1961, with one girl playing the part of identical twin sisters. It’s called ‘The Parent Trap’."
"How can one girl play the part of twin sisters?" Angel wanted to know.
"You'll just have to watch it and see. I can't speak for the rest of the year, but I'd be okay with the idea of you and Kimberley joining us for movie night," I offered.
"We would have to check with the others," Jenny added.
"That will have to wait until later," I said, as I stopped with my back towards a large set of doors. Raising my arms I loudly announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have arrived. Behold, American Girl Place."
"Oh Munchkin, you're so melodramatic," Mary Beth laughingly teased. "Come on everyone, there's no sense in standing around out here, the party's inside."
Everyone had a great time. There were displays for each of the American Girl dolls. Each display explained the time period, lifestyle, and history represented by each doll.
Mary Beth and I were unsuccessful in our attempt to talk Mr. Peterson into obtaining additional friends for Samantha and Nellie. We did manage to talk him into buying a set of sewing patterns for Nellie's and Samantha's other outfits, to be mailed to the schools P.O. Box.
As closing time rolled around, Mr. Peterson announced that the first bus was ready for boarding in front of the main doors and the second was around the corner. Everyone headed for the doors and then broke for one of the two busses. Not having heard any assignments, I wasn't sure which bus I should get on; not that it would have mattered; they were both going to the Manor.
Suddenly my left arm was being dislocated. "Were you planning on staying in Chicago?" Mary Beth asked, as she dragged me around the corner.
"No. It's just that I didn't-"
"You're on this bus, with me," she smiled as she took a step up, pulling me up the steps after her; much like a big sister would drag her little sister along.
"So, where are we sitting?" I asked quickly, as I shuffled along.
"We've got two seats near the back."
"Why clear back here?" I asked, as Mary Beth directed me towards the window seat.
Leaning close, she whispered, "Because this is where the toilet is."
"Oh. You noticed?"
"Well yeah. I mean, the alarm goes off on your PDA and you take off running for the bathroom. It's kinda hard not to notice. Besides, when Ellen and I were talking in Toronto, she told me you had a new little problem and would need some special help when we get home."
"That's all I need, more special help. But then, when haven't I needed special help of one kind or another?"
"It's just because you're such a special person." She added a hug to emphasize her last statement.
Mary Beth and I spent the next three hours talking. We talked about what I'd seen and done in Chicago. We also talked about what she’d been doing over the last six days. We had to save most of what I’d seen and done until we could be alone.
After returning from the restroom for the second time, I decided to ask Mary Beth a rather personal question. "What are the arrangements for sleeping?"
"What do you mean?"
"I know we sleep in the seats, but are there any pillows or blankets? It's just a bit chilly in here."
"What, you're complaining of it being chilly, you? You're the one that keeps your room cooler than the rest of the school."
"That's just because I like to sleep under lots of blankets," I shyly admitted.
Mary Beth couldn't keep from giggling before she answered my question, "There are pillows and blankets in the overhead compartments. The seats lean back some, and then you try to get as comfortable as possible. On our way to Quebec, a few of the older students changed into flannel jammies in the restroom. I guess they had them stuffed in their travel bags."
"Travel bags?" It was at that moment I realized I didn't have a travel bag. I had a carry-on from our plane trips, with a change of clothes, my toothbrush and other toiletries, not to mention my other temporary necessaries.
I stepped into the aisle, looking for one of the few people who knew of my special situation. Not seeing any of the four I sat down, albeit a little glumly.
"What's the matter?" Mary Beth wanted to know.
"I kinda need my small suitcase. Is there any way to get in touch with someone on the other bus?"
"Well hey, Miss Computer Wizard, have you tried your PDA?"
"Um, no. We're in the middle of nowhere, so they don't - . Are you telling me they've got a wireless network setup between the busses?"
"Hey, don't ask me what they've set up. I don't know anything about how they work. I just know we can send messages to anyone here or on the other bus. We can also download stuff from the Manor, and we can play the on-line games."
I didn't waste any time in sending a note to Ellen, explaining my problem and needs. She confirmed my suspicion that all the suitcases, from the hotel in Chicago, were on the other bus. She apologized for not thinking about my situation before we left Chicago and asked if my need was immediate or could I wait until a scheduled stop, several hours away when they would change drivers.
I confessed that I'd been drinking more since boarding the bus, than I had been the last few days. The school had thoughtfully stocked the busses with a more than ample supply of bottled water and juices. I went on to tell Ellen that with some effort, I would try to hold out until the scheduled stop.
Ellen indicated that she understood how difficult my challenge would be and she again praised me for my effort and sacrifice. She indicated that if my situation were to change suddenly, I should inform her immediately and she would get me what I needed. She plainly stated that wearing a wet pull up wasn't acceptable. She didn't want me to be uncomfortable now, or in the future, in dealing with a rash.
While I'd been sending messages back and forth with Ellen, quite a few of the older students had taken turns at the restroom. A lot of them emerged wearing heavy flannel pajamas. They had obviously been on long bus trips before. I was a little surprised that no one from the older years had felt it prudent to pass down such useful information. That was when I started a special document, one that I would add to as my experiences grew. I titled my doc 'Things Year A Should Know When Traveling.'
"What was that all about?" Mary Beth asked, once I'd put my PDA down.
I leaned close to Mary Beth, not wanting everyone around to hear me, "I sent Ellen a note, telling her that I would like to have my tooth brush and the nightgown I'd packed, and a change of underwear, if you know what I mean. She asked if my need was immediate or if I could wait until they changed drivers. I replied by saying I didn't know that the drivers were diapered, too. To which she replied 'Ha, Ha.’ Then I told her that my need wasn't immediate and that I'd try to hold out until they swapped drivers. My pull-up is a little wet, but I don't want everyone to know that we're stopping because I need to be changed."
Mary Beth scowled at me and got out her PDA. A couple of minutes later, one of the chaperones near the front of the bus went up and spoke with the driver.
As the bus pulled off the freeway Mary Beth showed me her PDA and the note she'd sent.
Ellen,
The Munchkin is trying to be brave again. She is
wet and does need some dry things. She didn't say
so before because she will be embarrassed if the
others know we were stopping because she's wet.
How can we fix both problems?
Mary Beth
As I finished reading what Mary Beth had sent to Ellen, the bus came to a stop and I turned toward the window to hide and grumbled, "MayBee, why did you do that."
'Do you know how long five minutes are when you know that everyone is staring at you, or at least you're sure they're staring at your back? Each second seems like a full minute and a minute seems like - you get the idea.'
I'd been hiding for about five hours, pretending to be asleep, when someone gently shook my shoulder. "Hey there Munchkin. Sorry to wake you, but I thought you would want your toothbrush and stuff. I hope I grabbed everything you need."
I was surprised to hear Kimberley's voice. Relieved, I turned to be greeted by her caring smile. "I thought I have to tough it out until morning," I muttered.
Handing me my carry-on bag she smiled, saying, "No. When I asked Ellen about stopping so I could get my stuff, I reminded her that your stuff was also deep in the belly of these land whales. She laughed and told me to sharpen my harpoon. Anyway, she said stopping for a few minutes is no big deal. I'll see you in the morning, at breakfast. Bye now."
"Bye Kimberley - and thanks," I called out, as she made her way forward.
"Boy, now I'm jealous," Mary Beth complained, eyeing my carry-on. "All we got were these little gym bag things, like we had when we go swimming."
"I'm sure if part of your trip was by plane they'd have provided you with a bag like this one," I replied, trying to explain the difference. Actually I was guessing, but my logic sounded reasonable.
"I suppose," she admitted.
I put my bag on the floor and sat back in my seat. For the first time in my life, I was grateful for short legs.
After about five minutes, Mary Beth learned over and whispered in my ear, "Aren't you going to go chang out of something wet?"
"Yes. I just didn't want it to seem too obvious." I whispered back.
I let another minute or two pass before I hopped out of my seat. I knew I never be able to maneuver my bag in that tiny restroom. My only option was to take what I needed and quietly slip into the restroom. I was surprised when I opened my bag. I guess Kimberley had done some rearranging for me, because I now had a choice of wearing my red plaid flannel nightgown, the one with white lace, or Jeffrey's racecar pajamas. For about zero point six two seconds I thought about offering the pajamas to Mary Beth, quickly deciding against such an idea. She probably wouldn't have minded the racecar pattern, being five sizes too small was another thing.
As I was wrapping my nightgown around a fresh pull up, I noticed some small plastic bags stuffed into one corner of my bag. Adding a plastic bag to my bundle I headed for the restroom.
"Feel better?" Mary Beth whispered, as I was putting away the clothes I'd just removed.
I knew I was blushing, as I timidly nodded.
Climbing back into my seat, I decided to thank Kimberley.
Kimberley,Thanks for your help. I appreciate the warm
nightgown.Do you know when we're stopping for breakfast?
I'd like time to change out of the nightgown
before we stop.Matilda
PS thanks for the plastic bags.
"What are you doing now? It's past time for sleep and we haven't said our prayers yet," Mary Beth complained.
"SHHHH," several people complained from around us.
"Sorry," Mary Beth and I echoed softly.
I turned back to Mary Beth and whispered, "A note to Kimberley, thanking her for the nightgown and asking what time we'll be stopping for breakfast. I want time to change into regular clothes."
"Well let's say our prayers and get some sleep. I don't know what time breakfast will be, but if it’s like our trip out, it will be early," she whispered back.
We took turns saying our prayers. It's hard to kneel in a moving bus that only has enough legroom for your feet, but we managed. Somewhere during this time, Kimberley sent me a note.
You’re welcome, Munchkin.
I wasn't sure which you'd prefer under the
circumstances. I found a roll of bags in the
cargo compartment and thought a few would be
useful.We'll be stopping for breakfast at a truck stop in
Nebraska, somewhere around 5:30 am. At that hour
nobody is going to care if you're wearing
nightclothes, day clothes, or if you're dressed as
a princess looking for a ball. Although under the
circumstances, I wouldn’t recommend the latter.Kimberley
Not wanting to wake everyone with a 'go empty my bladder' alarm, I decided to take my chances on waking up before wetting down; it worked once, so I hoped I would be lucky twice.
'What the heck, if I wet once more it's no big deal. I'll be home tomorrow and I know that with timing and a little muscle control, or is that the control of a little muscle? Either way I shouldn't have to worry about being embarrassed ever again. At least I won't be embarrassed because I wet myself.'
I shut down my PDA, leaned my seat back and stuffed a pillow between the window and me. Then I turned around so I was sitting sideways in the seat, with my back nestled into the pillow. I brought my feet up onto the seat, and wrapped the bottom of the blanket under my toes. There you have my recipe for a Munchkin sleeping on a bus. Snug as a bug in a rug, as one might say. The only problem was, I was lonely. I was on a bus full of people, Mary Beth was in the next seat, and I was lonely. I just wished I had someone to hug, or someone was hugging me.
December 20th
I gently woke to the vibration and gentle swaying of the bus, along with hushed voices, somewhere nearby. I looked at Mary Beth and smiled. She had mirrored my sleeping position, although, I don't think she was as comfortable as I was. It’s a size thing.
I quietly slid out of my seat and tiptoed into the restroom, pleased that I didn't need to change anything. As I was relaxing so nature could take its course, I felt the bus change course and start to slow down. "Timing is everything," I muttered to myself, as I assumed we were stopping for breakfast, but a little warning would have been nice.
As I emerged from the restroom, Mary Beth looked like she was ready to leave, except that she was scowling at me. "Where were you?"
Giggling, I replied with a question, "Are we going to start that again?"
Changing her expression from a scowl to a grin, "No. I'm just kidding."
"All right, would you two stop fighting," Hope called out. "It's time for breakfast, so come on."
"Be right there, I just need to get my shoes and a coat," I called back.
Mary Beth stood in the aisle, tapping her toe, while I got ready to face the cold morning air. As we scurried from the bus towards the warmth of the TA Travel Center, I couldn't help but notice the large snowflakes that were starting to fall. As we went through the double set of doors, we noticed about half the students were lined up to use the restrooms. The scene caused me to giggle.
'I'm glad I used the toilet on the bus. Having to hold onto the walls as the bus swayed back and forth was better than having to hold up a sagging pull up while I waited in line.'
Miss Adams was the first adult we saw from our group; she was directing traffic as it were. "Good morning. You two ready for breakfast or do you need to use the facilities first?"
"I'm good," Mary Beth answered.
"I used the facility on the bus just before we stopped," I meekly replied.
"Wonderful," Miss Adams said with a smile. "Do you see RJ over there?" She was pointing towards the far side of the restaurant.
We both nodded.
'How could we miss him, he's over six feet tall.'
"Very good," Miss Adams continued. "Make your way to him and he'll show you where our group is sitting."
We thanked Miss Adams and headed across the restaurant.
"Morning RJ," Mary Beth and I chorused, as we approached.
"Good morning ladies. A bit casual this morning, aren’t we Matilda?" RJ inquired, looking at the nightgown beneath my coat.
"No more than the students who are in their jammies," I quickly countered.
"I stand corrected," he admitted with a smile. "Well now, here's the deal for breakfast. Our group has this half of the restaurant and you may select anything from the breakfast buffet. There were enough places set for everyone. There's no seating order. So, just find a place setting with a plate, pick up the plate and help yourself. If there's no plate on the table it's because someone else has it. Just consider that place occupied."
"So that's why a bunch of the people waiting for the restrooms had plates in their hands," Mary Beth exclaimed.
"They picked them up first so they knew who they'd be sitting with," I finished her sentence.
"Well, enjoy your breakfasts," RJ concluded.
We slowly walked around the tables, looking for two plates together. There was one plate here and one there. Some tables were completely filled with students, eating. Some had only two people but no empty plates. There was one table that had four plates, two missing plates, and two people casually eating breakfast; they were Ellen and Mr. Peterson.
I looked at Mary Beth as she looked at me. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. She frowned and shook her head.
"Sorry," I whispered.
"For what?" Mary Beth asked.
"For taking so long to get ready."
"Oh come on, let's go face the music."
"Mind if we join you?" I asked, as we approached Mr. Peterson from behind.
"Not at all," Ellen replied from across the table.
Mr. Peterson turned to smile at us. "Please do."
We thanked them, as we removed our coats. Leaving our coats, we each picked up a plate and headed for the buffet. There was a short line, which meant we had a little time to chat with the other students.
The line moved quickly and all was going well until I got to the breakfast sausage links. There was only one and it was on the far side of the pan, in the steam table. Being that I’m altitude-ally challenged, I was up on my toes trying to reach across to grab the last sausage link with the tongs. As my luck would have it, one of the servers from the restaurant appeared with another pan of sausages.
The lady quickly removed the empty pan and dropped the full one in its place. While watching the process I was smiling, knowing I’d get a few more sausages. At that moment the lady’s eyes and mine met.
“Well, hello there little one. You're a cute little thing. How did you get in this part of the restaurant? Come over here and take my hand, and I’ll help you find your mommy and daddy,” she casually said.
My smile quickly turned into a frown as the steam table shook violently, moving several inches.
“What was that?” the lady asked, as I dropped my plate and made a beeline for the table with Ellen and Mr. Peterson.
Grabbing my coat, I started back across the restaurant.
“Matilda, what’s the matter?” I heard Ellen call out.
“Nothing!” I yelled out, while shaking my head; more to keep myself from crying than to make a non-verbal statement.
‘Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not here. You can’t let anyone see you cry. Have to get to the bus.’
As I got to the double doors Ellen caught up with me. “Matilda, where are you going?”
“The B-Bus,” I managed to say without completely breaking down.
“Fine, we’ll both go to the bus,” she said, taking my hand.
We made our way to the bus, breaking a trail through the fresh snow. Ellen pressed a control and the door swooshed open. It’s a good thing she was there, I didn’t know about the control and would have been standing in the snow with tears frozen to my cheeks.
After the door was open I hiked up the stairs and ran down the aisle. Ellen was a few moments behind me; I suppose she took the time to close the door.
Finding me in my seat, with my face buried in the pillow I’d used the night before, Ellen sat down in Mary Beth’s seat and pulled me into her lap.
“Now, now, what’s the matter?” she lovingly asked.
“Me. I — I’m the m — matter,” I cried.
“And what makes you think there’s something the matter with you?”
“Cause I — I’m so - so L-LITTLE.”
“Who said you’re little?”
“She did!”
“She, she who? Did one of our students say-“
Shaking my head I interrupted her, “Lady in restaurant.”
“I’m certainly glad it wasn’t one of our students. Listen to me Matilda; I don’t know why you’re smaller than everyone else your age. To me and everyone at the Manor it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are a special young lady that has some special gifts and you care about other people. In my book that makes you a very big person; at least where it really counts.”
“Thanks,” I sniffled.
“I tell you what, when we get back we’ll have a talk with Dr. Harris. We’ll see if he can come up with a medical reason for your apparent lack of physical enlargement, OK?”
‘There she goes again, with her extra words to say a simple thing. Why can’t she just come out and say I’m short? After all, I can’t kick her while I’m on her lap.’
I looked up and nodded.
After I’d stopped crying, Ellen let me slip off her lap and sit back in my seat. With my knees pulled up, and my nightgown pulled down, Ellen wrapped a blanket around me. We’d been sitting quietly for a few minutes when the bus doors opened and we heard several others coming back on board. I slowly looked up and saw Mary Beth smiling at me, along with as many for Year A as could fit in the aisle around her.
“You okay?” she asked.
I forced a smile and nodded.
Ellen got up and Mary Beth sat down. “I’ll leave her in your care,” Ellen said, and then she made her way through the mass of students.
“Thanks Ellen, we’ll take good care of her,” Mary Beth replied, taking my hand into hers.
“Boy Matilda, you should have heard the older students lay into that waitress,” Niki proudly proclaimed.
Em had to add her two cents worth, “Yeah, they told her off but good n' that you are a part of the school n' what an inconsiderate thing she said n' what a neat person you are n' how lucky she was to have had the steam table between the two of you n' how the last person that called you little walked with a limp for a week.”
'We really need to teach Emerald to breathe when she talks.'
Then Tony joined in, “Then Melissa found where the carry-out foam boxes were kept and everybody took turns putting stuff in them for you. I think you’ve got enough food here for three days.”
Almost out of nowhere, six of those big white foam boxes appeared. I slipped my feet off the edge of the seat and slowly the six boxes were piled on my lap.
The tears started flowing again, tears of joy this time, knowing how much I was truly loved by everyone at the Manor. “I can’t eat all this,” I timidly professed, peeking out from behind the stack of boxes, teetering back and forth.
"Here, you take one of these, MayBee. You didn't get breakfast on account of me."
"Oh no, those are yours. I've got my breakfast here," she explained, waving a single foam box.
"Well what am I supposed to do with all this?" I wondered aloud.
"I tell you what," Tony offered. "You look through all of them and pick the one you want. Then we'll pass the rest out to anyone who wants them."
"Thanks you guys, you're the greatest."
Mary Beth and I had just gotten a good start on our breakfasts, along with some casual conversation with those around us, when the bus doors opened and more people came on board, lots more people. Every seat was quickly filled and there were people standing in the aisle when Mr. Peterson stepped aboard and announced, "Could we have everyone scoot in a little, we'll need to have three in each set of seats plus some in the aisle in order to squeeze everyone in. Thank you."
With only half an announcement, actually it wasn’t even half of an announcement it was just a request for us to imitate a large can of sardines, the restrictions on the rumor mill were completely gone. The speculations, as to why we were packing two busloads onto one bus, were circulating fast. As for me, it simply meant postponing breakfast a little longer.
"You don't suppose the other bus has broken down and we're going to be this crowded all the way home, do you?" Mary Beth asked, as we closed our foam boxes, raised the armrest that separated the seats, and scooted together.
"I doubt it. This is way over capacity for one bus," I replied, as Daphane from year C sat down with us.
"More than likely this is-" Daphane started.
"Thank you. Now that we're all in out of the cold," Mr. Peterson started.
"An announcement!" I finished Daphane's sentence, while Mr. Peterson took a breath.
"Thank you for making room for everyone, and I apologize for this inconvenience," Mr. Peterson continued. "I only want to go over this once. I'm sure you've all noticed the rate at which the snow is coming down."
"The roads are closed and we can't get back to the Manor," Daphane whispered.
"It seems that Mother Nature likes to play practical jokes. This is the beginning of a fast moving, heavy winter storm. The roads from here to Rock Springs have just been closed. The good news is that the storm is moving fast and should blow over in about four hours." Mr. Peterson was forced to pause for a few moments because of the cheering. "However it will be at least six hours before the roads will be open." That brought the cheering to an abrupt end.
As Mr. Peterson was making his announcement, I set my breakfast box on my suitcase and got out my PDA. I quickly discovered that, yes; the travel center has Wi-Fi. I quickly worked my way in to do a little research. The fact that I didn't have an authorized access code wasn't a problem for me. A little more challenging perhaps, but it also added to my enjoyment. It felt good to be myself again, computer in hand, slipping through logic and code as if I were dancing among clouds on silver wings.
'Oh wait, that's supposed to be "Danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings." But where do I know that from?'
"So it appears that we'll be stuck here for at least the next six hours, perhaps eight. In the meantime, Ms Hansen has reminded me that it's been almost forty-eight hours since most of us have bathed. The travel center has several individual shower rooms, and we're making arrangements to utilize these facilities while we're here."
"What are you doing?" Mary Beth whispered.
"Exploring this town," I briefly replied.
"Miss Adams and RJ are working out a schedule and you'll be given a fifteen minute warning as to your shower time. That should be sufficient time to collect your things and make your way to your scheduled shower room. In the unlikely event that we have to stay longer than anticipated we will have to explore our options before deciding what to do or where to go."
At that moment I pressed send on my PDA. A moment later Mr. Peterson's PDA started beeping, indicating an urgent message.
Mr. Peterson quickly extracted his PDA and silenced the alarm. After reviewing the message he continued, "It seems that someone else has been thinking along the lines of 'what if.' Let's see, according to her research, there are eight motels nearby that would appear suitable. Not to mention five grocery stores, but she's complaining that there's only one theater, although I'm not sure why she even included that in her report. One final note, she included that for educational purposes there are three museums that may be worth visiting."
The idea of going to a museum was met with groans all around.
Mr. Peterson's PDA pinged again.
"Hmm, this one says, it’s been a while since she's had the opportunity to see a movie. I guess that explains why the first note included the theater. While I have to agree this is all good information to have, I think we'll stay here for the time being and see what Mother Nature does. In the meantime, we'll see if the travel center has any DVD's that are suitable for viewing on the bus systems. You are free to make yourselves comfortable on either bus or in the restaurant, but please remember to watch for your shower times."
Another ping emitted from Mr. Peterson's PDA.
"Do they have popcorn to go with the DVD's?" he read off, with a chuckle. This was followed by a cheer from most of the group. "I see that meets with everyone’s approval. No guarantee, but we'll look into the possibility. Thank you for your attention and we'll keep you informed as to the weather situation. One last thing, I said you can use the restaurant as a lounge, but, I don't want anyone wandering around alone. Always stay with your study partner and I'd like those from years A and B to partner with pairs from the older years." With that said, Mr. Peterson made a hasty exit before any other messages arrived or questions could be raised.
Mary Beth, Daphane, and I couldn't keep our giggles in any longer, and we burst into laughter. Everyone around us was wondering what was so funny.
From the row behind us, Kathy Ray asked, "Matilda, were you sending Mr. Peterson all those messages?"
I answered honestly, although still snickering, "No ma'am. This time, I had accomplices," as the three of us started laughing again.
"Well, I guess there's been no harm done, but if I were you three I wouldn't push Mr. Peterson right now; he has a lot on his mind," Kathy Ray cautioned us as she made her way past, heading down the aisle.
Before anything else happened I took the time to add, "No harm done and nobody in trouble this time. Thanks for the assist, Daphane."
"My pleasure. Any time you're having a go at the admins, count me in. It' us against them ya know," she replied with a smile.
"Us against them?" Mary Beth asked. "Like a battle?"
"Sorta, it's more a battle for laughs, to see if we can get them confused and tongue tied. See you around." Daphane got up and moved down the aisle, leaving Mary Beth and I a little puzzled at her last comment.
"Now what?" Mary Beth asked.
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to finish my breakfast. After that, I think a change of clothing is called for," I replied, while tugging at my nightgown.
"Good thinking. Then what?"
"Then - we'll have to wait and see what the day and Mr. Peterson brings."
I'll tell you right now that spending a day on a bus is mostly BOARRRRRRRRing. Mary Beth and I finished breakfast and she told me about Wardenclyffe. I changed my clothes and we talked about Chicago with those around us. I passed around my PDA, showing everyone the pictures I took of the windjammer Windy.
About ten they arranged for, and started the first movie on our bus. There were small LCD displays built into of the seat backs, well one display for two seats. They didn't have a popcorn popper at the travel center, which was a bummer, but The Great Escape was a really good movie. I'm sure they picked that for its historical value.
After all, almost everything we've done at The Manor has had some kind of a learning experience tied in, although I'm not sure what I was supposed to have learned from my time as Sally.
I know that moving around all the time had become a habit, sitting still for so long was driving me crazy and I'm guessing my constant tapping and humming was driving everyone around me crazy.
Lunch was a challenge, not the eating thereof, the acquiring there of. It took a lot of coaxing from most of our year to get me to leave the bus. There was no way I wanted to cross paths with the lady from this morning.
Lunch was another buffet, as expected; build your own salad, several kinds of soup, and do it yourself hoagies. Being that I'd had a late breakfast, I wasn't very hungry. I found a little salad and a fourth of a hoagie to be quite filling.
With Christmas but a few days away, the conversation around the table focused on the upcoming caroling trips. It felt so good to be part of the group again, to talk with my friends and be myself.
All the talk of Christmas Carols must have gotten to most of us. It wasn't long before I heard someone humming ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’. Before they got through the first stanza, six or more had joined in. 'Born the King of Angels' was sung quietly by about a dozen students. As they started the chorus, everyone from the Manor had joined in, students and administration.
After we'd finished singing there was a little silence and confusion, because Mrs. T wasn't there giving us directions. It took about ten seconds before someone started singing ‘Oh Little Town of Bethlehem’, with everyone quickly joining in. When we'd finished I started singing one of my favorites, ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’. Everyone else joined in before I got out Herald.
'I think they were trying to drown me out.'
That's how we spent the next hour, scattered around the travel center's restaurant, merrily singing one carol after another.
Something strange happened when Mary Beth started singing a slow and beautiful rendition of ‘Silent Night’. Although I expected it, nobody else joined in. She looked at me. She had a strange look in her eyes, almost as if she were afraid she'd done something wrong. I think she was going to stop, so I smiled and mouthed keep going.
Almost bashfully, she continued. As Mary Beth finished, the restaurant was in complete silence with the exception of a squeaky exhaust fan somewhere. Several seconds passed before I heard any other sound and that was someone from the other side of the restaurant, clapping. Before long the entire travel center exploded in applause. Poor Mary Beth, she hadn't received praise from anyone in a very long time, at least not from anyone outside the Manor. She quickly did an impersonation of a ripe tomato.
Coming to Mary Beth's rescue, Mr. Peterson started singing another carol. As everyone joined in, it took the attention away from Mary Beth; everyone's attention except mine. When no one was looking I leaned over, kissed Mary Beth's cheek and whispered "I love you." At least I thought no one was looking, I found out later I was wrong.
After we'd sung six more carols, Mr. Peterson signaled it was time to end our impromptu Christmas concert by standing and singing, "Oh say can you see . . ." As if on cue, everyone stood and joined in. There was a brief applause as we finished the first verse, which abruptly ended as we started on the second verse. At first I was confused, but later it was explained to me that all of the schools concerts were concluded by singing the national anthem of the country we were visiting, followed by The Star Spangled Banner. Something I've always found strange is, how few people or groups ever perform the entire work, as Immigration Manor does. I've always found the fourth verse of our national anthem to be very moving.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKCVS57j284&feature=related
(Here is a little something for your viewing pleasure. Five very talented young ladies, two of the girls were six, two were seven, and the last was eight years of age when this was recorded.)
I don't know who it is, but someone likes slapping me across the face. Just as everything is going smoothly and I start to relax, another mystery is dropped into my small lap. I don't know where they obtained that particular DVD. Someone must have brought it with them, because there's no way the travel center would have had it on their shelves. I mean, I took a quick look at the movies on the rack and they were all movies that came out about a year ago, or more, and ‘The Polar Express’ had only been in theaters for a month. It's still showing at the expensive theaters. It wouldn't be showing at the cheap theaters for another three or four months, which is the only place Dad ever took us.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about seeing ‘The Polar Express’. It's a movie I wanted to see ever since the previews came out. I'd given up on the idea of seeing it after starting at the Manor. I didn't know the S. P. A. had that kind of connections.
What I will complain about is, that halfway through the movie, Mary Beth and I were notified that our shower time would prevent us from seeing Santa.
All I can say about the showers at the travel center, they were clean, they did have hot water, boy did they have hot water.
'I think it's going to take a few days to get over being scalded. You'd think they'd have something to keep the water balanced when another shower is turned off.'
And, the showers weren't meant for two people, not even two people me size.
After being scalded, I'd had enough showering and got out before my time was up. Finding that I was finished before the rest of my group, Mary Beth, Angel, and Kimberley, I sat down on a small bench outside the shower area to wait.
I hadn't been waiting long when a very large man came lumbering down the hall towards me and the showers; compared to me he was very large. He was shorter than RJ and I guessed he weighed about two hundred seventy five pounds.
"Hello young lady, mind if I join you?" he asked, with a deep almost booming voice.
Nervously I forced a smile and nodded as I scooted to one end of the bench, clutching my carryon a little tighter. The bench groaned as the strange man sat down, taking up the rest of the bench.
“Thank you,” he said, after he was down. “The folks that schedule the showers told me I’d be up next.”
Even though I was nervous and a more than a little scared, I timidly offered a bit of advice, “Be careful, the water can get really hot.” I showed him my very red arm.
"Thank you for that information, miss - um, do I know you? Have we met somewhere before?" he asked, turning slightly to get a better look at my ever increasingly nervous face.
"I don't think so," I timidly replied.
"I know where I've seen you before. You're part of the group that was singing Christmas carols in the restaurant, after lunch. By the way, my name is Kenneth."
"Hi Kenneth, I'm Matilda."
"Matilda! You're Matilda? That other girl, the one who sang Silent Night, the one whose cheek you kissed, was that Mary Beth? I thought everyone from that school was supposed to be home and warm in their beds by now."
By this time I was really getting freaked out.
'Who is this guy, how does he know about me and Mary Beth? Better yet, how does he know about Immigration Manor, and what does he want from me? I wish Angel or Kimberley would get out here.'
"I don't care what anyone else says, I think you'd look better with hair your own color,” Kenneth continued.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 27
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
So, how do you like your Munchkin rare, medium well, or well done?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 27
By Penny Reed Cardon
'OH NO, it must be Bart! With all his parents’ connections, somehow he figured out where I went and he's hired this guy to get rid of me. I don't know how he found me here, but what's more important right now is, how am I going to get away?'
By the time I had figured out I should have run, it was too late to run. There was no way I could get past this monster of a man. I was franticly looking around, searching for a way out of this mess.
"You seem to be a little nervous, Matilda. Is anything wrong?" Kenneth asked.
Ignoring his question, I slowly slid off the bench and started backing away from him. As I slowly backed away, I was moving up the hall towards the showers. I knew there wasn’t any other way out, but I was desperate to put some space between him and me. I was suddenly startled by the sound of a door opening. In terror, I spun around to see what new danger was about to engulf me.
"Hi Munchkin, you finished all ready? Matilda, what's wrong?" Kimberley asked, reading the terror on my face.
Throwing my arms around Kimberley, I turned and looked back towards Kenneth. I wasn't sure if he'd still be there, but I was sure he was after me.
Kimberley followed my gaze, and asked, "Kenny, what are you doing here and what have you been doing to my friend?”
'Kenny?'
"Me? I haven't been doing anything; I swear. I'm just waiting for my turn at one of the showers. I asked this young lady if I could share her bench. We were enjoying some pleasant conversation when I figured out she's the famous Matilda that everyone is talking about. Then she started acting funny."
Looking up at Kimberley, I timidly asked, "You ... you know him?"
"Of course I know him, He taught me to drive when I was year C. Didn't he introduce himself properly?"
"They teach you to drive when you're twelve?" I mumbled.
"I most certainty did," Kenneth professed, answering Kimberley's question.
Kimberley looked at me with a questioning look, as if asking me for the rest of the story.
"Well, he did say his name was Kenneth," I confirmed. "Then he started talking about the school, and about me, and the color of my hair, and -"
"And then your imagination ran away with you, didn't it?" Kimberley interrupted.
Sheepishly I nodded, confirming her speculation.
"Well then, allow me to complete the introductions. Matilda, may I introduce Kenneth Reynolds. Kenneth, this is my friend Matilda McNeil"
"Reynolds?" I asked. "You mean he's -"
"Amanda's husband," Kimberley finished my question, answering it at the same time.
"I'm such a dope," I mumbled as I hung my head in shame.
"Yes, sometimes you are. Although from what I hear, you've had some experiences that would make almost anyone suspicious of strangers."
I nodded sadly, "Kenneth, I think I owe you an apology. I'm sorry I treated you like a monster."
"Well now, I don't think I ever been treated like a monster before. I feel more than a little grungy and I guess I'm more than a bit smelly, but that's from being cooped up in the cab of a truck for the last three days. Tell me, is this how a monster is supposed to feel?"
"Cab of truck?" Kimberley questioned, she seemed a little agitated. "I thought you gave up driving because of your heart. What are you doing behind the wheel?"
By this time Angel and Mary Beth had joined us, and introductions were repeated for Mary Beth's benefit.
"Now don't get your panties in a knot. The driver that was supposed to make this run had a family emergency. His wife is pregnant and is restricted to bed rest and their six-year-old daughter came down with appendicitis. Besides, this was just a little milk run; hop down to LA and pick up a load of technical stuff. Take a leisurely stroll over to MIT to drop them off."
"Just who's leg are you trying to pull, Kenny?" Kimberley asked sternly. "You go from Salt Lake to Los Angeles, then a cross country run to Massachusetts, and back to Salt Lake, and you call that ‘a milk run’?"
"Sure I do! There were no deadlines, nothing was perishable, there wasn't any pressure, no need to exceed the speed limit so I wouldn’t have to worry about watching for any bears. It’s a nice leisurely trip where I could sit back and tour the countryside, chat with some old friends on the radio, and then take my time getting home."
"Is that the line you used on Amanda?" Angel inquired.
"Well, that was how I started, but I could see she wasn't buying it."
"I'd have been surprised if she did," Kimberley admitted. "Come on Kenny, you know what the doctors said. Your heart won't take the stress."
"I know, I know; dumb doctors anyway. I wonder if they've ever considered how much stress being cooped up in an office day after day, can inflict on someone who's spent most of their life traveling free."
"Driving across the country is what you call traveling free? Peacefully skimming across the water in a sailboat is what I'd call traveling free," I quietly commented.
"Sailboat?" Kenneth asked, with a hint of intrigue in his voice.
"Sailboat?" Angel repeated.
"Yes, somehow Matilda and her silver tongue, talked Ellen into agreeing to get some small sailboats for the school. I don't know who they'll get to teach sailing, but I'm sure they'll find someone," Kimberley elaborated.
"I tell you what, Kenneth, you promise to take care of yourself until I'm Year C, then you can teach me to drive and I'll teach you to sail," I proposed. "Is it a deal?"
"Matilda, I've known you for a long time. Just when did you get interested in sailboats?" Mary Beth asked.
"A couple of years ago Charles was given a toy sailboat for Christmas. It was about twelve inches long with a single mast, a white hull with brown decks, and silver trim. He kept it on a stand in our room. Sometimes when nobody was home I would get it down and sail it in the bath tub. I use to imagine that I was actually on those decks. Afterward, I would carefully dry it before putting it back. If Charles had ever discovered I was playing with his boat he would have killed me.
"Anyway, when I saw the sailboats on Lake Michigan it got me thinking about some of my dreams that I knew would never come true, but I’ve started to think differently. So many things have happened in the last two months it’s been almost like a dream. And now, I suddenly find myself doing things I’d never dreamed I’d be doing. So I figured as long as I’m working on someone else’s dreams, it might be worth a try to work on some of mine. Answer me this, Mary Beth, in your wildest dreams; did you ever think you'd be singing in a choir, performing in huge auditoriums in Quebec and Toronto?"
"But, Mary Beth didn't sing in Quebec," Angel quietly stated.
I was surprised by that; I looked at Mary Beth and asked, "You didn't sing in Quebec, how come?'
I saw a tear forming in her eye as she asked, "Can we talk about that later?"
I smiled gently and nodded my acceptance of her request. Turning back to Kenneth, I demanded, "So, is it a deal?"
"But you don't know anything about sailing," Mary Beth quietly reminded me.
"I've got a year and a half to learn," I nudged back.
"A year and a half? Is that all? I'm sure I’ll hang on that long. Actually I plan on living a lot longer than that," Kenneth stated.
"Well?" I persisted.
"I don't know; in a year and a half you might be too busy to make time for a fat old man. Besides, someone like me would probably sink a small boat." The look on Kenneth's face told me he was teasing.
I stood defiantly with my fists on my hips, giving him the best look I could muster, trying to verbally scream, 'Don’t play games with me, mister, I'm serious'.
Finally he gave in. Standing, he bent down and put out his hand, to shake my hand. "It's a deal, Munchkin. Providing you grow a bit more between now and then or all you'll be driving is a golf cart or a scooter."
I suddenly felt someone’s leg cross in front of mine. Looking down I recognized the leg, "Kimberley, what are you doing?"
"Making sure you don't kick Kenny."
"Why would I kick Kenny?"
"Oh I don't know; can someone tell me why the steam table jump three inches this morning at breakfast, anyone?" she asked sarcastically. "Maybe because he called you little."
"No, he didn't. He said I would need to grow between now and then. Which is a valid statement; I do need and want to grow. He said nothing to insult me or add to the almost continuous reminders of my current, almost dwarf, stature."
"All right, who are you and what have you done with Matilda?" Angel demanded.
"She just exercising again, I wouldn’t worry about it," Mary Beth answered, laughingly.
"Exercising?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, she’s exercising those ten active brain cells of hers," she teased, jumping to the other side of Angel.
"I'll get you for that," I exclaimed, as I grabbed for her, catching nothing but air.
"Not today," she giggled, as she dashed past Kenny, heading down the hall with me a few feet behind her.
"Settle down, you two!" Kimberley called out.
With her longer legs, Mary Beth got through the double doors ahead of me with time to spare. I knew I should have been more cautious as I rushed through the doors. I was struck with a sudden attack of panic - right after my right shoulder was struck - with a snowball. Hearing Mary Beth’s laughter, the panic didn't last very long; it was quickly replaced with silliness mixed laughter, as I bent down to scoop up some snow.
Owing to the fact that I don't have a single athletic bone in my body and the fact that I can't hit the broad side of a barn at twenty yards, it was a very one-sided snowball fight. There is one thing I've gotten good at, in my few short years, and that's turning my back just before the snowballs hit me. I think that's part of my self-preservation instinct; you know, protect the face.
Mary Beth and I have had many snowball fights over the years. This one ended the same as they always have; my coat was covered in snow, there was absolutely no snow on Mary Beth, and both of us laughing ourselves silly. The only difference this time was the crowd of onlookers who were cheering and laughing along with the two of us instead of at the two of us. Several others decided to join in the fun and started tossing snowballs around, one narrowly missing Mr. Peterson's nose.
Mr. Peterson quickly put an end to the snowball war, announcing loudly, "That's enough. We don't need more than two snowgirls."
"What do you mean by two snowgirls?" Lexi, from year E, asked.
"I mean, we don't need more than two girls covered in snow," Mr. Peterson clarified.
"But Matilda's the only one covered in snow," Aaron pointed out.
"That means we do need at least one more snowgirl," Lexi called out.
"Snowman building contest in the empty field," Angel yelled.
There was a sudden mad dash towards the empty fields next to the travel center by almost all the students. As for me, I'd had enough snow for one day and headed for the bus.
"You're not building a snowman, or snowgirl?" asked Mr. Peterson.
"No. I've had enough cold for one day, maybe enough that my scalded red skin should be pink again."
"Scalded? How, where, when?" Ellen demanded, just catching my last few words.
'Where did she come from? I don’t want to go into all the details. I'm pretty sure it’s not serious and the redness will go away in a few days. Then again, there stands Ellen waiting for some answers.'
Reluctantly I explained, "When I was in the shower the water pressure changed suddenly and I was left with straight hot water. I was startled and it took more than a few seconds to get the water turned off."
"Let's have a look-see, on the bus if you please," Ellen ordered.
"It's nothing really, I'll be fine," I protested.
"Move, young lady!"
"You'd better do what she says," added Mary Beth.
Slowly I climbed the stairs, followed by Ellen and Mary Beth.
"Mary Beth, please wait here in the front of the bus and don't let anyone else come to the back. Matilda, I want you in the back," Ellen instructed.
Looking around, I was relieved to see that there wasn't anyone else on the bus, but I still protested, "You aren't going to make me take my clothes off, are you?"
"Matilda, I'm a physician first, and a psychiatrist second. Now, please show me the affected area so I can determine if medical treatment is needed."
"But what about the windows?"
"They're tinted, so no one from outside will see anything, and Mary Beth is up front to keep everyone else off the bus. Come on now, let’s move to the back and see what there is to see."
"You sound like my mom," I grumbled.
"Thank you Matilda, I'll take that as a complement. It means that we care about you."
"I know, but it's still embarrassing."
Fortunately for me, I’d had my back to the showerhead when the water turned hot. Ellen had me remove my shirt, so she could examine my back. She didn't have me take off my skirt, but she did lift the hem to look at my legs. Then came the embarrassment I feared, she pulled out the waistband of my skirt and the pull-ups to look at my bottom. If I wasn't red before I was then, red from embarrassment.
"As usual, Matilda, you've underestimated the severity of the situation. You have what I would consider border line first degree burns on your lower back, across your bottom, and part way down your legs. I'll get some ointment from the first aid kit for burns. I'm afraid a little more exposure will be required for the application."
"Ellen, no! I don't want you putting any ointment down there," I protested as I was struggling back into my shirt.
"But it must be done, and the sooner the better."
"Mary Beth could do it. After all, I helped her with her bandages -"
"Absolutely not. Must I remind you of the rules concerning study partners and being clothed in each other’s presence?"
"Well, how about Kimberley? She's had some experience with that part of my, my person."
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about that possibility. I suppose I could ask her."
"Please ask! I'd feel a lot better about her doing it."
"Very well, do you have some loose clothing you can change into?"
"This skirt is pretty loose."
"No, the waistband will chafe the damaged tissue. Anything else?"
It only took me a moment to figure out where she was heading, a long dress. All I’d packed was skirts and tops with one exception. Shyly I replied, "Just my nightgown."
"Yes, that should do nicely. You should change into your nightgown right after dinner."
I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought she'd want me in the nightgown right away. Of course, it was almost dinnertime anyway, so I guess it really wouldn't make too much difference.
"Besides the ointment, you need to drink lots of water. Even though you were burnt by hot water, your skin will still need more liquid as it heals." Seeing the surprised look on my face, Ellen added, "Yes, I know what that means. Just use the restroom more often and you shouldn't have any negative effects from the extra fluid intake."
After Ellen left, Mary Beth and I chatted until Kimberley showed up with a tube of burn cream in her hand. "Munchkin, I don't know how you get yourself into these predicaments."
"It’s like I told you before; I'd really like it if Mr. Trouble would follow someone else for a while."
"I keep telling you that Trouble is a Miss, not a Mister," Mary Beth teased.
"Mister, Miss, or whatever, trouble follows me wherever I go," I complained.
Kimberley laughingly interrupted our verbal dueling. "That's enough you two. Out you go Mary Beth, while I take care of Matilda's burns."
Mary Beth went back to her post, at the front of the bus to keep everyone else off.
Quietly Kimberley asked, "How do you want to do this?"
"I figured the least embarrassing way would be to lay a blanket on the floor and I'll lie on my stomach. Then you can put the cream where it needs to be."
"Sounds okay to me. Ellen did say you have burns on your back, legs, and your bottom"
"I know where it needs to go," I interrupted. "Just do what you need to do."
Kimberley was as kind and gentle as she had been over the last few weeks, as I knew she would. No offense towards Ellen, but sometimes a girl has to go with what or who she knows. After Kimberley was finished, I had some firsthand knowledge of what a greased piglet feels like.
Mary Beth and I watched the last of the snow-person building contest kneeling on the seats and watching through the large rear window of the bus. When most of the contestants were heading for the warmth of the busses, Mr. Peterson sent a message, thanking everyone for their patience regarding the lateness of dinner. The good news was that the roads were almost cleared and we would be pulling out right after dinner and heading back to the school.
Dinner was uneventful. Several of our friends did want to know why I changed into my nightgown so quickly after returning to the bus. I smiled as I replied, "I just wanted to avoid the crowds that will be lined up to change later."
In reply, six started blowing raspberries. There were five "Get out-a here." One sarcastic, "Oh yeah, it will be such a huge crowd," and four pillows were thrown in my general direction. All in all I think they accepted my rather lame excuse better than I’d expected.
The busses were back on the freeway heading west. It had been several hours since my unfortunate experience in the shower and the uncomfortable effects of being slightly burned had really started to settle in; even though I was greased from my neck to my knees. Sitting was becoming more and more uncomfortable. The prospect of trying to sleep in a seated position was not appealing.
Discussing the situation with Mary Beth she reminded me that even though the bus was pretty full, and we were near the back, there was an empty row behind us. It was my turn to play dumb. I couldn’t understand why that would make any difference. Wither I was sitting in one seat or another it would all be the same, a pain in the . . .
"Oh come on, you're supposed to be the smart one here."
I still had no idea what she was talking about, other than trying to get me riled up.
"Matilda, how tall are you?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
"How wide is a pair of seats?"
"I don't know."
"Well it seems to me that if we fold up the armrest, and with some extra pillows, you could lie across two seats, on your side with your knees bent, and sleep comfortably without anything rubbing your tender umm, tender."
"My tender, tender?"
"Well like, you know, a steam locomotive has a tender - behind," she teasingly snickered.
"You're a nut," I shot back, gently slapping her arm.
"And you're just discovering that?"
"No, just reaffirming what I've known for a long time."
With Mary Beth's help, and some extra padding, I had a fairly comfortable bed laid out. With our prayers said and one last trip to the bathroom, I was ready to call it a night.
"What's the Munchkin doing sprawled out over two seats?" Hope asked Mary Beth, coming out of the bathroom.
"Just being comfortable," I heard Mary Beth quietly reply.
"Dang, I wish I'd thought of that. Hey wait, there's an empty row behind Aaera and Deborah. See you in the morning," she whispered, as I heard her hustle down the aisle.
Once again I was alone, all alone on a crowded bus, trying to fall asleep on a slightly damp pillow.
December 21st
The night passed quickly, quickly and quietly. I didn't wake up until the bus was stopping at the bottom of a freeway off ramp. I must have been more wiped out than I thought, but the extra sleep sure felt good. Unfortunately, even though it felt good I slept later than I'd intended and later than my bladder was willing to wait for relief.
I silently slipped out of my makeshift bed and looked out the windows. The light changed and we started moving again. I didn’t recognize the area, but I was pretty sure we were somewhere in the south end of the Salt Lake valley. Quietly I snuck around the next seat to see that Mary Beth was still sleeping; or so it appeared. As I knelt between the seats, slowly opening my bag to retrieve some clothes and my last pull-up, I felt a hand gently stroking my hair. Looking up into the tender eyes of my friend, I thought I saw something; something I hadn't seen in a long time.
Tenderly, Mary Beth whispered, "Everything all right, Munchkin?"
In the same quiet whisper, I sorta fibbed, "Everything is fine. I just slept a little too soundly, if you know what I mean."
"I'm sorry. I was thinking about waking you a couple of hours ago, but you looked so cute, and you were sleeping so peacefully, that I didn't have the heart to wake you."
"That's okay. I'll just slip into the restroom and - you've been watching me sleep, and for a couple of hours?"
Shyly she nodded; a mischievous little grin on her face.
"Why?" I puzzled aloud.
"Because I … I've missed you. Now go change."
With another puzzle in my head, I slipped into the restroom and changed out of my nightgown and wet pull up.
Emerging, I giggled to myself seeing the line which had formed, each waiting their turn at the restroom. While I was changing, Mary Beth had put away most of the extra pillows and blankets. She left several of the pillows in my seat, I presumed for extra padding.
After I'd put my things away and gingerly climbed into my seat, Mary Beth whispered in my ear, "Feeling better?"
"Yes, much better. It's amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for you."
"How's the burns?" she whispered.
"I know they're there, they hurt like sin, and sitting down isn't very fun, but I guess they don't hurt as bad as they did last night."
"That's good, means I can give you a hug later."
"Okay, but only a little hug. We don't want to make the burns worse."
Glancing outside I was surprised by where we were. "Hey Mary Beth, do you know where we are?"
She looked out for a few seconds before her eyes lit up, as she recognized our old stomping grounds.
"This is Seventh East, and we're coming up on Liberty Park," she exclaimed.
Hope's head popped up above the seat in front of me. "Liberty Park, you mean your Liberty Park? The one you told us about?"
"That's right. We're about six blocks south, it'll be on the left side very soon," I confirmed.
"Hey guys, this is where the Munchkin and MayBee grew up," Hope called out.
"Really, this is where they're from?" I heard Howard call back, from somewhere up front.
"Yes really. The park they told us about is just up ahead," Hope called back.
A few more green lights and we were passing Liberty Park. "MayBee, our favorite place to talk is empty and waiting for us."
"Of course it's empty, it's four days before Christmas, and there's two feet of snow on our little hill.
"Speaking of snow, how much snow do you think there is at the Manor?"
"I don't know. I'd say there's enough snow that you can stand up in the middle of the field without being seen."
"Oh, that's a safe prediction. There was that much snow there before we left."
"That's why there should be at least that much snow now. After all, we've only been gone for eight days. Just how much do you think it could snow in eight short days?"
"Oh, I don't know, another foot ... maybe two."
"The snow monkeys will be busy again, digging out the mazes and adding to the castle."
"True, but they're doing such a good job on that castle. Maybe the school should enter a team in the International Snow Sculpture Championships," I thought aloud.
"Do you think they'd actual send a team from the Manor to the snow sculpture contest?"
"Probably not. Not much educational benefit, and they wouldn't want a group of students or the school given that much publicly. Maybe after they graduate a group could get together and go have some fun."
As we were passing Hoggle Zoo I couldn’t help but notice how much snow was there. So much had happened since we went past the zoo on our way to the Salt Lake airport, eight days ago that I couldn't remember how much had been there before. It did seem like there was a lot more snow. Regardless of the amount of snow at the zoo, the trip from the zoo to the Manor's main gate, usually took thirty minutes. This trip took almost an hour to cover the same distance.
I don't know if it was just me, but I had a feeling of giddy excitement as we passed through the Manor’s main gates. I felt a mixture of joy, relief, and an awakening of other feelings that I couldn’t describe. I suppose it was how someone would feel when they come home after a very long absence.
'That's it, it’s coming home. A few days ago I thought I’d never see these wonderful old buildings or any of my friends ever again. Now, here I am, home at last. I can’t imagine any place in the world that has, or could ever look so beautiful as the hills and valley that I’ve come to know as home.'
Our bus came to a stop just behind the other bus, which must have taking a different route. Everyone collected their respective travel bag and headed for their rooms. As I disembarked, I was greeted by the flagpole. I was almost in the very spot where I had tackled Mary Beth those many months ago, or had it only been a few days ago. So much has happened, it seemed like it could have been months.
The overall mood seemed to be a bit subdued as everyone headed towards the administration building and then to their respective rooms.
'I think everyone is simply tired of traveling, grateful to be off the bus, and is looking forward to sleeping in their own beds.'
After dropping the bags in our rooms, everyone from year A gathered in the lounge for the ritual checking in and out of the PDA's. Before Aaron had completed the exchange process, two of our group had fallen asleep on the couch, where they'd collapsed. The rest were quietly leaving, with the intention of following the first two into dreamland, but in the comfort of their own beds. As Mary Beth and I were leaving the lounge, all the PDA's beeped, alerting everyone of a change in schedule. ‘Choir practice from 2:00 to 5:00 pm’
"Oh well, at least we can sleep for a few hours," an exhausted Mary Beth complained.
"What about breakfast, or lunch," I asked.
"Sleep first, food l a a a a a a a … later," my silly partner added, accentuated with a big yawn.
"All right, who are you and what have you done with Mary Beth?" Jenny asked from behind us.
Mary Beth replied simply with a silly grin and a shake of her head. Then she took my hand and we headed for the stairs.
Once we were in my room Mary Beth let go of my hand. Heading for the interconnecting door she mumbled, "I'm going to change and then I I I I I I … I’ll be back." Yawning.
As Mary Beth reached the door my PDA went off, beeping continuously. Turning, and almost falling down, she asked, "Now what?"
"It's an urgent message," I replied, recognizing the beep pattern. Looking at the screen it read, "Dr. Harris wants to see me."
"Now?"
"That's what it says, right now."
"But I need some sleep. I hardly slept at all last night."
"Its okay, MayBee, you go to bed and I'll go see what Dr. Harris wants."
"But I have to sta a a a a a ... ay with you, protect you."
"It’s all right," I said, putting my arm around her waist and helping her to her bed. "We're home. No one is going to hurt me while we're at the Manor."
"You sure it's o o o o o o o okay?"
"Sure I'm sure. You get some sleep and I'll tell you everything Dr. Harris says, later," I said, as I laid her down. I slipped off her shoes and stockings, and pulled the blanket from the other side of the bed to cover her.
"But I need to change first," she protested against my actions.
"I don't think you're awake enough to change your clothes. You just have yourself a nice long nap. You can change and shower later."
"Whatever you say," she mumbled, her eyes already closed.
I kissed the tip of my finger and lightly touched the end of her nose, whispering, "Sleep tight, my love."
I don't know if she heard me or not. I know she didn't respond, and I know she was sound asleep before I closed her door.
The trip to the hospital was short and cold. I was surprised to find there was nobody behind the reception desk as I entered the small lobby, I thought I was expected. Taking advantage of the situation, I quietly snuck up the back stairs and slipped into Rachael's room. She wasn't paying attention and I was able to sneak right up to her bed without her noticing me.
"Hi Rach," I said a little loudly, starting her.
"Matilda!" she screeched. "Don't do that."
"Sorry Sis, I just couldn't resist. So how are you doing?"
"I'm doing okay, I guess. I'm bored out of my mind, but other than that I'm okay. I see you're back to your old self, no more diapers then? I thought you were supposed to be back yesterday, what happened?"
"We got stuck at a truck stop in Nebraska for a day. The roads through Montana were closed because of a heavy snowstorm. As for the diapers, I don't want to talk about it."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I was semi-forced into wearing them long before you were. Learning to not use them is going to be the hard part."
"I know what you mean. Well, at least we can talk to each other about them and not be embarrassed."
"Yeah, lucky us. Instead of just being twins, we can be the diapered twins."
"Sort of."
"What do you mean … sort of?"
Before I answered Rachael's question, I went over and closed the door. "I'm not actually wearing diapers, I have these silly pull-up things until I can retrain my bladder muscles," I explained, lifting my skirt.
"Those aren't too bad I guess; at least you can change them yourself."
"Yeah, that’s a plus."
About that time I received another message on my PDA. It was from Dr. Harris wanting to know where I was.
"I have to run, Sis. Dr. Harris wants to see me about something."
"What about?"
"I guess about the first degree burns on my back."
"The what?"
"I'll fill you in later. Right now I've got to run."
"Okay. Come back soon, the nurses are terrible talkers."
"Will do. See you later Sis. I love you."
"Love you too Matilda."
As I left Rachael's room, I ran into Marie.
"There you are. You do know that Dr. Harris is waiting for you don't you downstairs in examination room three?"
"I knew he was waiting for me, but I didn't know where. There wasn't anyone downstairs when I got here, so I thought I'd say hello to Rachael."
"I see. Well, now you know where you're supposed to be. You do know the way, don't you?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Very well then, off you go."
I hurried down the stairs, rounded the corner to the right, and went through three doors. A little out of breath, I opened the examination room door.
"There you are, I was beginning to think you got lost in one of the snow banks."
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. When I walked into the lobby there wasn't anyone around, so I went upstairs to say hello to Rachael."
"No harm done. Have you been to the restroom lately?"
"It's been a little while. Why?" I nervously asked.
"I want to run some tests and need a urine sample. Take this cup to the restroom across the hall and do your best. Just leave the sample on the shelf behind the little door in the wall. Then come back here, take off all your clothes and put on this gown. You got all that?"
"Yes, I've got it. Everything?"
"Well, it will be hard to see where you're burned with your clothes on. Don't you agree?"
"I suppose," I grumbled.
"Relax Matilda; this will be over before you know it."
"Could we not do it and say we did?"
"No. I'm afraid not. Come on now, across the hall with you. You don't need help collecting a urine sample, do you?"
"OH NO. I can take care of that on my own."
"All right then; I’ll see you in a couple of minutes," he said with a little chuckle.
Okay, I gave them what they asked for. You want more details; go see your own doctor.
There was one good thing about this whole experience, the gown was adult size; it covered me from my neck to my toes and wrapped around me twice. Although, I knew that being completely covered would be a temporary condition, I figured the unwrapping could be interesting.
I didn't have to wait very long before there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," I quietly called out.
The door opened, admitting Marie and Dr. Harris.
"I didn't ask you before, how are you feeling today?" Dr. Harris inquired.
"Nervous," I admitted.
"That's understandable under the circumstances. Outside of being nervous how are you feeling?"
"Overall, I feel pretty good. I slept pretty well last night, so I'm not as tired as most of the others. My back and legs hurt all the time, but not so bad that I’m screaming or anything. The real problem is when I have to sit down."
"From what I heard, you managed to stretch out over two seats on the bus last night. The report I received indicated that you appeared to be very comfortable. As for your back, legs, and bottom, I guess that explains why you're standing. Your burns are our first concern for today."
"Your first concern? What else am I here for?" I nervously inquired.
"Well, according to Ellen you’ve been troubled lately about the fact that your body has become vertically challenged. She asked me to look into the matter. Have I been misinformed?"
"No, I guess not," I mumbled.
"Very well, let's take a look at your back, shall we? Why don't you climb up on the table and lay on your stomach," he requested.
I did as he requested, that's when the fun began. Remember how big the gown was? As Dr. Harris tried to pull the gown loose, he almost rolled me off the table. After tugging a few times and almost dropping me on the floor twice more, he asked Marie for assistance. Between the two of them they managed to get one side loose along with some groaning and complaining from me. That's when they discovered that it wrapped around again.
"Good heavens Matilda, what have you wrapped yourself in? You really don't want to be examined, do you?" Dr. Harris exclaimed.
"This is the gown you left for me," I assured him. "I was a little cold so I kept wrapping until I ran out of gown."
"I don't know about that, it seems more like you've wrapped yourself in a bed sheet."
"This does look like one of our standard gowns, doctor," Marie added.
"Marie, the next time Matilda comes in for an examination, see if you can find her something more appropriate for her size," he pleaded.
In the end, they had me stand on the examination table so they could peel me out of my protective cocoon.
Dr. Harris gave me the onceover, and then he onceovered me again. He poked here, pushed there, asking if this hurt or that hurt. Finally they covered me up. Then Dr. Harris sent Marie for a tube of stuff to go on my burns. For the second time in two days I had the privilege of feeling like a greased piglet. After being embarrassed and slimed, they left so I could get dressed.
After I was dressed and was trying to sneak out; Marie caught me and escorted to a tall chair with an extra arm that she swung around in front of me. It reminded me of a child's highchair and made me a little nervous.
"What's this for?" I asked.
"This arm? It's so you can't run away when the vampire shows up to suck your blood," she said with an evil smile.
I knew better than to fall for that one. Putting a terrified face I pleaded, "Nooo, not the vampires! I'm too young to become part of the walking dead. Oh wait, that’s what they call being turned into a zombie, isn't it? What do you become after you’ve been bitten by a vampire?"
Marie was having a hard time getting out the things she needed, because she was laughing at me so much. She had finally collected what she needed and turned back to face me. Still giggling, she informed me, "I don’t know what you’ve become, but I’ve heard that a slang term for a vampire would be a nurse with a needle. Do you have a preference as to which arm I stick?"
"Um, no. No preference at all, as long as it isn't one of mine."
"Come now, Matilda, don't tell me you're afraid of needles."
"Afraid, no. Dislike, most definitely. Hate, very probably."
"I'm sorry, but I do need several vials of blood for some tests."
"I know, I know. Just take what you need, but remember that I’m kind of small, leave a little for me," I told her, holding out my left arm while covering my eyes with my right hand.
You know the drill, so there’s no point in me describing all the details. But after Marie wiped my arm with the alcohol, had the needle in her hand and was about to strike, I let loose with a blood curdling scream.
"Matilda, I haven't even poked you yet," Marie said, wondering why I'd screamed.
"I know. I was just practicing."
"Oh you!"
"Besides, I figured if I got it out of my system before you - OUCH that smarts."
"True, but I really don't think it warrants such a scream?"
"Oh, I guess not. How much longer am I going to be privileged to wear your stick pin?" I jokingly asked trying not to look at the needle or move.
"About another thirty seconds if you're good. If you're bad, I could leave it in until after you talk with Dr. Harris."
"Why do I need to talk with Dr. Harris?"
"You need to talk with Dr. Harris because he wants to talk with you. If it wasn't important, he wouldn't have asked to see you."
I was about to ask another question when Marie announced, "There we are, all done." She extracted the needle, followed by the wrapping of some stretchy stuff around my arm.
Marie escorted me to Dr. Harris' office, effectively preventing any side trips.
"Hello Matilda, come in. You don't need to sit down if you don't want to, we shouldn't be very long."
"Hi. Am I going to live?" Knowing that doctors can sometimes be long winded, I gently sat on the edge of an overstuffed chair.
Chuckling, he answered my sarcastic question, "Most assuredly. You are going to be around for many years to come and be a joy to us all."
"I think I'd prefer to be a Matilda. Why would I want to change my name to Joy?" I teasingly asked.
"OK, OK. That's enough of your silliness," he complained laughingly. "We need to talk about two things; first, your burns are a little more serious than Ellen led me to believe. I didn't notice any scaring when I examined you at Primary Children’s, but then I really wasn't looking for any. Do you remember ever having been burned before?"
"No, not that I remember. You'd think I'd remember something like that."
"That's strange. These are some fairly fresh scars on your buttocks, I'd say less than a year old."
"Less than a year old?" I timidly questioned. "Maybe you should talk with Ellen about them. She seems to know more about that time in my life than I do."
"What?"
"I know it sounds strange, but trust me on this one."
"Whatever you say. As for your current situation, you need to have the cream applied twice each day. I’ll have Marie make room in her schedule for you. Would you prefer to come here, or to have it done in your room?"
"If it's all the same with you, I prefer you just give me the tube of cream and I'll arrange for someone I'm more comfortable with to put it on me."
"Are you sure? It must be done twice a day. Do you have someone in mind that will take care of it for you?"
"Yes, I think I know someone who might be willing to help me."
'Just don't tell Ellen that it's Mary Beth.'
"Very well, I'll arrange to have a tube delivered to your room this evening. Most of the tube should be used within one week’s time. I'll want to see you in one week to see how you're healing, all right?"
"I guess I can come back in a week. That may be difficult. My schedule is so full that I may have a hard time fitting you in. Should I just come in any time or -"
"I'll schedule an appointment," he interrupted with another chuckle. "It'll show up on your PDA. I'm also going to send out a medical order to the staff exempting you from wearing the school uniform until the burns have healed."
"But I like the school uniform," I complained.
"Nevertheless, your waist won't like the elastic waistband."
"So I'm supposed to wear nightgowns all day?"
"That would be one option. Personally I'd recommend the long dresses that have a belt around the waist. Only, leave off the belt."
"Oh yes, I remember seeing them. There were three if my memory is correct. A blue one, a green one, and a pink one. Without the belt they won't look very good. It'll be sorta like wearing a gunnysack."
"Maybe, but I'd have to ban the gunnysack as well. Too course. Think of it more in the line of a Hawaiian mu’u mu’u," he added, with a chuckle.
"So, for the next couple of weeks, I get to be the smallest little old lady around, wearing nightgowns, robes, or mu’u mu’u's. Some fashion statement I'll be making."
"I'm sure you'll survive. The second item we need to discuss is your incontinence."
"My what?"
"How to put it delicately," he whispered, more thinking aloud than speaking to me. "Let's say, your current need for special undergarments."
"Oh, the diapers," I grumbled while examining the carpet pattern between his desk and myself.
"I wouldn't have put it so bluntly, but yes. You see, I do talk with Ellen, so I know of your dislike of such a garment on your person. I also know how much you are troubled by the fact that they are currently necessary. I understand that with Kimberley's help, you've made great strides in correcting the situation, is my information correct?"
"Pretty much. You do keep yourself up to date."
"I do try. So, why don't you tell me how you think you're doing?"
I gave him a rundown on what I'd been doing to regain control of my bladder, along with my triumphs and failures. It seemed to me that there were more failures than triumphs, and I was getting a little depressed about the situation.
"Now Matilda, I don't want you to be depressed. I think you're doing very well. After all, you've only been at it for, what's it been, three days?"
"Today is the sixth day," I corrected.
"All right, six days. I still think you are doing very well. In addition to what you're doing, timing and trying to produce a flow when you want, I want you to add something to that. Once you've established a flow, I want you to try and stop the flow, and then restart it."
"You want me to do what?"
"Once you've got a flow of urine going, exercise the muscles even more by trying to stop the flow. It is called Kegel exercises. By doing that, you should regain muscle control sooner, rather than later. You understand now?"
"Oh yes, the second time around made it very clear. I'll do anything to get out of these things," I complained, while patting my waist.
"All right then, that's all I wanted to talk about." Looking at the clock on the wall, he continued, "I believe you're missing lunch and Mary Beth is probably worried about you, so you had better get going."
"Mary Beth's not worried about me ... she zonked out before I came over here. I'd better get her a sandwich or something to eat when she wakes up though. Otherwise she's liable to eat me. See you next week."
I left Dr. Harris chuckling as I headed for the cafeteria and a decent meal. Not having stopped for breakfast and rushing around after we got back, I hadn't had anything to eat since dinner the night before.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 28
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
You want me to play with what … in public?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 28
By Penny Reed Cardon
I figured I should wake up Mary Beth around 1:00, hoping to have her ready to sing by 2:00, but she obviously had other ideas. The usual tickling of her nose didn't rouse her from a very sound slumber; neither did the unforgivable kisses on her nose. Throwing off of the blankets and rolling her from side to side gained me one eyelid cracked opening and a sorta gruff, "Oh, go away!"
By 1:30 I was getting desperate. I took a little ice out of the drink I'd brought for her and dropped it into her partly open lips. That did bring about a reaction of sorts; she started sucking on the ice. Actually, she looked more like a baby, sucking on a bottle in their sleep. If only I had a video camera, that could have been some good blackmail material. As almost the last resort, I took some of the roast beef, from her sandwich, and carefully slipped it past her lips.
The animal instinct in her took over and chewing commenced, followed by her eyes fluttering and finally opening.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," I greeted her.
"What did you put in my mouth?"
"Roast beef. Want some more?"
"Oh yes,” she said, with a yawn. “I'm starving."
Pushing herself up, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Once she was sitting up she declared, "Okay, I'm ready for lunch, let's have it."
"Nothing doing," I said, keeping the plate away from her.
"Matilda! Give me that sandwich."
"Nope, you go shower first. You can eat on the way to choir practice."
"Choir practice? What time is it?"
"It’s 1:40, so you better hurry and get in that shower. You've only got five minutes, before we need to leave."
"Oh good heavens, girl, why didn't you wake me up sooner?"
With an exasperated sigh, I went through the interconnecting door, rolling my eyes and shaking my head.
"What?" Mary Beth asked.
"Just go shower," I groaned.
I don't know how we were able to manage it, but we were only two minutes late getting to choir practice. Fortunately for us, Mrs. T was three minutes late. Unfortunately, Mr. Peterson wasn't late at all.
"Good afternoon ladies," he greeted us as we scurried into our places. "As I was saying, I want to congratulate everyone for their outstanding performances. Even though this was our first performance in Quebec, it was so well received that we've been invited to return as soon as our schedule allows. This was our second performance in Toronto and we've been invited to return for a festival in the spring, although I don't think that will work with our current schedule. Aside from that, I wanted to tell you personally that we're proud of each one of you. You have once again upheld our school’s fine reputation. I congratulate you all." That said, Mr. Peterson applauded us, accompanied by Mrs. T. After Mr. Peterson left, Mrs. T added her congratulations.
After we'd sung a couple of warm-up songs, Mrs. T started dividing us into groups, sixteen to eighteen to a group, and assigned each group a practice room. Some of the orchestra members were told to take their instruments; others were not. She was getting down to the last few groups and my name hadn’t been called. I was beginning to wonder if Mrs. T would really want me to sing in public, especially as part of such a small group. I was sorta hiding behind everyone else as I tried to sneak off stage. It didn't work though.
"Matilda. Come here please."
'Dang. I screwed up again.'
"Matilda, am I to assume from the way you were trying to sneak away, that you'd rather not be assigned a singing part?" Mrs. T asked with a smile.
"Well ... I wouldn't want to make the others sound bad," I shyly confessed. "I mean I know I'm really good at lots of stuff, it’s just that singing isn't one of them."
Mary Beth came to my aid about then. Standing behind me, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
"You aren't trying to put yourself down are you, Matilda?" Mrs. T asked outright.
"No. I'm just being honest. Without the magic of Marshal's magical sound system, it's a well-known fact that I can't carry a tune in a bucket."
"Well, Marshal and his magic sound system, won't be going on these outings. For these caroling trips we’ll be presenting the music that's within each of us."
"I guess that lets me out. I'm afraid the music that's within me sounds more like the croaking of a bullfrog."
"Maybe, and maybe not. Perhaps we just haven't found you the right form of expression, something that fits with your other talents. I've been thinking about this for a while, Matilda. If you're willing, I'd like for you to try something a little different."
"As long as I only use my mouth for talking, I'll try anything once."
"That's my girl." Mrs. T smiled at me and then she turned to the orchestra. "Darryl, would you come here please?"
Darryl was a large boy. I guess actually, he would be considered a good size man, being that he is in year H and will be leaving the school in June. As he came up onto the stage and approached us I got nervous again. It's a good thing Mary Beth had her arms around my shoulders because my survival instincts were telling me to run and hide.
"You're going to fix the problem with my voice by having him break me in half?" I asked teasingly, trying to pretend I wasn't afraid.
"Oh Matilda, don't be so silly. Darryl wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, maybe a fly, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t hurt anything larger than a fly. At least I don't think so." Mrs. T chastised and teased me at the same time.
Mrs. T stepped aside and talked quietly with Darryl. I don't know what she was saying, but his comments didn't fill me with confidence or make me feel any better.
"You want me to teach her what?"
"You're joking, right?"
"That's impossible."
"Nobody can learn that in two days."
"All right, all right, I’ll do it."
"If you say so …"
Turning back to the group I was with, Mrs. T asked me to join them. "Matilda, I'd like you to go with Darryl. He has kindly offered to teach you something new."
"Kindly offered?" I quietly asked.
"All right, he's willing to teach you. Is that better?" she asked.
"More accurate," Darryl added.
"Thank you Darryl," Mrs. T said.
"Come with me Matilda," Darryl commanded, as he turned and walked towards the orchestra pit.
Reluctantly, I left the safety of Mary Beth's protective arms. I slowly followed Darryl across the stage, right up to the point where he hopped off the edge of the stage; dropping about five feet to the floor below. Darryl didn’t stop until someone else from the orchestra pointed out to him that I was no longer following. I was just standing on the edge of the stage wondering where the closest stairs were, when Darryl stopped and came back to where I was standing.
"Sorry about that, I kind of forgot about you being smaller than I am," Darryl apologized. Then to my shock, he reached up with both hands and grabbed me around the waist. With a slight moan of discomfort from me, he effortlessly lifted me down. "Come this way."
He led the way to the far side of the orchestra pit, to where the drums, symbols, and the rest of the stuff I didn't know the names of, were. He stopped in front of two racks of metal bars that were laying in a large case.
"Have you ever played a glockenspiel before?" Darryl asked.
"A ‘What O Spill’?" I asked. My chin was just about level with the metal bars.
Darryl shook his head and groaned, "This is never going to work."
"What's never going to work?" I wondered aloud, turning to look at Darryl.
"Teaching you to play the glockenspiel, it's never going to work.”
“And why’s that?” I asked.
“Two reasons; first, the glockenspiel isn’t that easy, you have to want to learn how to play it. Second, you have to be able to see it in order to play it," Darryl grumbled.
'Now he's done it. Just who does this big oaf think he is, telling me I can't learn his precious glockenspiel? Does he even know who he's talking to?'
With fire in my eyes, and probably some anger in my voice, I figuratively crawled up the front of the giant oaf, standing before me, and jumped down his throat.
"About wanting to learn to play this ‘what o spill’; what I don't want to do is sing in public, especially when it comes to singing in a small group," I spat back. "And if you can learn to make music with a bunch of shiny silver bars, it can't be that hard. As for being able to see this ‘what o spill’, is there something that I can stand on?"
"Look out Darryl, I think you've got an angry tiger by its tail," someone called out.
"Hey man, if I were you, I wouldn't let go, it’s the other end that has the teeth," someone else added.
Putting my hands on my hips, I looked up at him, "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"What is there for me to stand on?"
It didn't take Darryl and some of the other orchestra members, very long to produce several nine-inch risers that looked like big Lego blocks. Three of them gave me just the right amount of elevation, although I couldn't move very far from side to side. After I could see the glockenspiel properly, Darryl introduced me to the different types of mallets and explained why there were so many. Next came an introduction to the sheet music. It was different from what I was used to from singing with the choir, but somehow familiar. As he explained how each note represented a specific key, or bar, it all made sense and brought back some pleasant memories. During his explanation and instructions, I started to relax and once again enjoyed learning to play.
Darryl left me alone to tinker for a bit, while he dug through some stuff somewhere. He came back with a beginner’s book for the glockenspiel. He helped me work through a couple of scales and a few practice pieces. Because I couldn't move very far, my timing was off on the end keys. After we'd been working at it for about an hour, my PDA started vibrating.
I reset the alarm and asked, "Darryl, can we take a short break?"
"Yeah, I guess. You need an alarm to tell you to take a break?"
I'm afraid I was a little sharp with him as I replied, "It's a personal matter between Kimberley and me, so don't ask."
While I was in the restroom, I was figuratively kicking myself this time. I realized Darryl wasn't trying to be mean, he’d just seen something odd and asked a simple question. I was almost certain that almost everyone in year A knew I had some kind of problem, and there was probably some very wild speculating going on about what my problem might be.
When I returned I apologized, "I'm sorry Darryl, I really shouldn't have snapped at you the way I did."
"That's OK Matilda; I was just a little surprised. Then when you mentioned Kimberley you piqued my curiosity, knowing who she is. I did send her a note asking about you."
'I guess the older years know a bit more about what's going on around here. I wonder just how much they know.'
"What did she say?" I was almost afraid of what she might have said.
"She just said that you are a special person, and that you've been through a lot of heavy stuff lately. She also said it wasn’t anything she could discuss, but that if I were any kind of gentleman, I would cut you a little slack."
"She's a good friend," I thought aloud, with a sigh.
"That she is," Darryl confirmed. "Shall we continue?"
During the next hour and a half, we worked through several sets of scales along with some other basics. I was doing so well that Darryl when had me play some simple Christmas carols, somehow I managed to make them sound almost like they should. Mary Beth had joined us about a half an hour before we decided to called it a night. Everyone else had finished their rehearsal, and she and I were now missing our dinner hour.
"Matilda, I have to tell you, I'm impressed. You have picked this up a lot faster than I would have thought would be remotely possible," Darryl complimented.
"Thanks Darryl. I have to tell you, this has been lots of fun and I think it’s pretty easy.”
“If you call playing the glockenspiel easy, what do you think is hard?”
“Hard? You should try getting into the US Marshal's computer network without being detected; now that's hard."
"Into whose computer?" Darryl asked.
"Umm, never mind. Darryl, is this the only ‘what o spill’ at the school?" I asked, as we were putting the mallets away.
Darryl shook his head each time I referred to the glockenspiel as a ‘what oh spill’. "No, there are four others, they're in some of the practice rooms."
"So who do I have to see about some practice time on one of them?"
"You can forget about that, Mrs. T has all the rooms booked solid for the next two days. She'll be working with the different singing groups, right up until they leave for their performances."
"Humm, is there any way to have one of the ‘what o spills’ moved into my room for a few days?"
"I'll see what I can do."
"With music?"
"What good would it be without music? Now you two better get going, if you don't hurry, you'll be eating dinner with the older years," Darryl commented.
"Is that a bad thing?" Mary Beth asked.
"Is what a bad thing?" Darryl asked.
"Eating with the older years?" I answered.
"Oh. No, it's not a bad thing; it’s just not normally done, that's all. I'm sure there wouldn’t be any problem and that you'd be more than welcome."
As Mary Beth and I were about to leave the administration building, we decided that rushing to catch up with the rest of our year really wasn't worth it because there was only ten minutes remaining of our scheduled dinnertime. So, we went back to our rooms to freshen up a bit before we joined the older years. We knew our year wouldn't worry about us, because Mary Beth had sent Jenny and Aaron, a note while she was waiting for Darryl and me to finish with the glockenspiel.
We didn't want to be the first to arrive, so we talked a bit about the events that took place in Quebec and Chicago; nothing heavy, just an overview to set the stage for more discussion later. I also sent a note to Mr. Peterson announcing our intention to join the older years for dinner, why, and where I planned to sit; knowing from past experience how crowded the cafeteria would be.
Not wanting there to be too many surprises, I copied Ellen on the note I sent to Mr. Peterson. I felt Ellen should know our plans and she could make any necessary changes in the seating arrangements she deemed appropriate.
When we arrived in the cafeteria, about half of the students were already seated. Being that I had eaten with the older years before, although it was a long time ago, I led the way as we got our food and then went looking for our requested dining companions.
'If my memory is correct … yes, there they are.'
"Mind if we join you?" I asked Beca.
Beca was startled for a moment, "Matilda, Mary Beth, what are you two doing here?"
"Nothing much," I started.
"Just enjoying a late dinner," Mary Beth finished.
"It's good to see you two again." Lizy said, with a smile.
"So are these two seats available?" I asked politely.
"Oh, yes. By all means, please sit down," Beca replied.
Having Mary Beth sitting across the table, instead of next to me, felt a little funny. It wasn't as funny a feeling as the feeling I got from sitting next to Beca as I raised a fork full of beef stroganoff to my mouth. I paused, holding my fork about six inches from my mouth, my mouth gapping open.
"Matilda, what's the matter?" I heard someone ask.
I looked around the table, then at the noodles and gravy on my fork. Slowly lowering my fork back to the plate, I asked, "You ever have the feeling that you've done something before? Like you are exactly reliving a moment in time that you've lived before?"
"What are you talking about?" Angel asked.
"I’ve done this before. This exact moment, same table, same people, even the same food, only something's wrong. Something is out of place; I just can't put my finger on what's wrong."
"I think they call it déjá vu," Frank added.
"Matilda, you're scaring me," Mary Beth complained.
Thinking forward another moment, or was it thinking backwards, and it came to me, "That's it, Mary Beth. You don't belong here," I concluded.
"What do you mean, I don't belong here?" she demanded.
"I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. I don’t mean that you don’t belong here. Of course, you belong here now, but you weren't here then."
"When?" Mary Beth asked.
"Before," Beca answered.
"You figured it out?" I asked Beca.
"Of course, but how long are you going to leave Mary Beth guessing?" Beca wanted to know.
"Mary Beth, you remember me telling you about being here before, and learning how to present myself as a girl?" Mary Beth nodded. "It was exactly four months and seven days ago that I first sat in this chair. I had requested beef stroganoff for my lunch. Sitting where you are now, Rachael was eating spaghetti."
Mary Beth looked at her plate of spaghetti and slowly pushed it to the center of the table, mumbling, "I'm not hungry anymore."
"Don't be silly," said Kate. "The spaghetti here is some of the best you'll find anywhere."
"Yeah, don't go hungry just because Matilda is taking a trip down memory lane," Frank added.
"Careful, girls. Having Matilda take a trip down memory lane isn’t something you or she would find enjoyable," Kimberley said as she and I made eye contact. "Are you okay?" she asked me. I could hear the concern in her voice.
"Yes, I'm all right," I assured her, smiling cheerfully. "I think Frank had it right, it’s just a bit of déjá vu. Mary Beth, go ahead and eat your dinner, everything is all right."
"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.
"Absolutely."
Slowly Mary Beth pulled her plate back and continued eating. However, she did keep a protective eye on me throughout the rest of dinner.
The conversation that followed was light and cheerful. Mostly we talked about the upcoming caroling trips, and what Mary Beth and I should expect to see and do. We also talked about the various Christmas day church services. All in all, we gathered lots of information that we hadn't heard from anyone else.
Thinking it was good information to share, Mary Beth and I went to year A lounge as soon as we were finished with dinner. There, we told everyone else what we'd learned and what to expect while on our caroling excursions. Even though they'd just returned from Canada, everyone was excited for the chance to get out and see the countryside, as it were.
There were two surprises waiting for me when Mary Beth and I made it back to my room. I guess they weren't really surprises, because I expected them to be there.
"What's that," Mary Beth asked, pointing to a large gray case, resting horizontally on a stand, that put it waist high to a Munchkin.
"That must be the glockenspiel from one of the practice rooms." Opening the case confirmed my suspicion. "I'm sure glad they found a shorter stand. I was having a hard time reaching the keys on the ends before. This way I'll be able to move around while I'm playing. Want to hear something?"
"So, you do know what it's called," Mary Beth stated as she helped me take off the top of the case.
"Of course, I know its proper name. I remembered it after Darryl used it the second time. I would have called it a glockenspiel instead of a ‘what o spill’ it if Darryl hadn't made me mad."
"Matilda, what am I going to do with you?"
"A hug works, but be very gentle," I replied with a smile.
Rummaging around in the music that was left with the glockenspiel, I selected a carol that Mary Beth would recognize. She had no trouble picking up the melody of Silent Night and quickly joined in.
"Matilda, you've really picked this up fast. Are you sure you've never played before?"
"Technically no, I've never played the glockenspiel before. But I was learning the piano, unofficially."
"You want to explain that?"
"Well, it was when we were in the third grade, just after school started. One day, while you and the other girls were in the restroom, I ducked into the band room to hide from Bart. You know, at Whittier they didn't officially teach band until you were in the fifth grade. When I snuck in there to hide, I discovered I wasn’t alone. Mr. Munford was there and wanted to know what I was doing. After I explained everything, he was more than willing to let me stay; I guess he knew about Bart.
Mr. Munford was playing the piano the first day I hid there. I sat next to him on the bench and watched as he played. Because Mr. Munford was nice to me, and was willing to let me hide there, I used the band room many times. The third time I hid there, he asked if I wanted to play an instrument. Naturally I said yes, I mean, I'd do anything to get away from Bart."
"So, Mr. Munford taught you to play the piano? You never told me about that."
"Not exactly, at least he didn't start out teaching me the piano. He started me with a little flute, something small and easy for me to handle. For some reason, I just couldn't get the hang of it. He tried a couple of other instruments, but I couldn't play them either. Then he tested my ears and figured out they're all messed up. That's why I can't sing, I can't hear the tones correctly so I can't match them."
"So how can you play the piano or the glockenspiel, if you can't hear what you're playing? Or for that matter, how could you hear me singing in those recordings they played before we got the mikes?"
"I don't know what it is, but I've always been able to pick out your voice. As for the piano and the glockenspiel, each note represents a specific key or bar. All I have to do is read the music, and then hit the right key, at the right time."
"But, isn't it hard to play when you don't hear the right tone?"
"Not really. The fact that it sounds different to me than it does to everyone else doesn't bother me, or effect how I play. If I were playing a piano that was out of tune, I wouldn't know it, but you would. I don't think a glockenspiel can get out of tune, so for someone like me, it's the perfect instrument. There is one drawback."
"What's that?"
"Well, when it comes right down to it, I really can't, well ... I can't make music. Oh I can read the notes and hit kit the keys, but I can never be, you know, creative; not like I am with a computer."
"Is that what you call the relationship you have with computers, being creative?" Mary Beth laughingly asked.
"Of course, what else would you call it?"
"Oh, I don't know - magic comes to mind, maybe sorcery. I'd never thought of it as being creative," she laughed.
"Oh, that's enough out of you. See if you can recognize this one," I complained at her teasing, and started playing another carol.
It took her a while to figure out what I was playing. I hadn't played that one before, so I was hunting for each new key.
"Isn't that ... The Carol of the Bells?"
"Yes it is. Good guess. It's one of the carols you'll be singing when we go out."
"That was tough to guess; you're playing it really slow. It doesn't sound right that way."
"Hey, give me a break; it's the first time I've played this one. A couple of times through and I'll have the pattern down. After I’ve got that down I'll work on the tempo."
"How long will that take?"
"I'll work on it during the day tomorrow. I should have it up to speed for tomorrow night's rehearsal."
"That fast? Nobody's going to believe you haven't played before. By the way, what's in the box on your bed?"
"That's something I'm trying to ignore. I’m pretty sure it's the cream Dr. Harris sent over for my burns."
"Matilda! You can't ignore it. You want to get better, don't you?" Mary Beth asked, as she opened the box.
"Of course I want the burns to heal and they will. Using that cream will just make them heal faster."
"The note here says that Marie is available any time you need her. Why would she need to be available anytime?"
"They’re making her available to put the cream on my burns. That is, if I can't find someone else to do it for me."
"Did you have someone in mind?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I was thinking about asking you if you'd be willing to take on the job."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well, are you going to ask me?"
I stopped playing and turned to look into Mary Beth’s eyes. "Mary Beth, would you be willing to apply the cream to the burns on my back and legs twice a day?"
"I thought we weren't supposed to see each other naked."
"That's why I asked if you'd do my back and legs. I figured I could smear it around on my bottom."
"I see. Before I answer, can I ask you a question?"
I couldn't resist the urge to giggle as I replied, "You just did ask 'A' question. Would you like to ask 'A' nother question?"
"You're a nut."
"Very true, but that's not a question."
"Okay. Matilda, all those weeks that you spent wrapping me with the elastic bandages and pushing me around in that stupid wheelchair, in all that time, I never heard you complain, not once. Why did you do that for me? I mean, I could have managed to do the bandages myself, but you took it upon yourself. Why?"
I looked at the floor for a while and eventually I looked up at Mary Beth. "I'm not sure how to answer that question. No, that's not right, I know how to answer, I just don't know how to answer and not have you get mad at me."
"Matilda, I'm not going to get mad at you and I think I know what you're going to say. I just need to hear it from you."
"Okay, I did it because I love you," I replied in a hushed tone. The room was silent for a moment, before I continued, "Mom tried teaching me something a while ago, but I didn't understand it until we came here."
"What was that?"
"That you'll have no greater joy in this life, than by being of service to someone else, and especially to someone you love. I didn't understand it before, and I'm not sure I completely understand it now. But, I know that it would be a privilege to help you in any way."
Mary Beth pretended to brush some hair out of her face, but I think she was wiping away a tear.
It was several moments before Mary Beth spoke, "Yes, Matilda. I'll take care of your burns for you. Right now, I think it's time we got ready for bed."
Mary Beth quickly went into her room, leaving me to wonder if I'd said something stupid again; only time would tell. Still holding the mallets and being a little sad, I thought about playing something, but decided it wouldn't help. Going into my closest, I picked a long silky nightgown. After a few minutes in the bathroom, taking care of the necessities, I found Mary Beth sitting on the couch in one of her favorite baby-doll pajamas, with her PDA in hand.
"Where were we?" she asked.
"Where were we, what?"
"Reading our scriptures. I know we read them each night on the bus, but for some reason I can't remember where we were."
"Oh, we'd just finished Second Nephi," I replied, as I went after my PDA.
"That's right. You want to start or shall I?"
"You go ahead; I'll read the next chapter."
I didn't hear much of what Mary Beth read, I was thinking about what had happened that evening and that Mary Beth was acting like the last six weeks had never happened.
Mary Beth finished reading a chapter and then I read a chapter. After setting the alarm on my PDA, we said our prayers. Then the event I was sorta wishing would be forgotten, wasn't.
Mary Beth picked up the tube of cream and with an evil smile she commanded, "Okay Munchkin, take off that nightgown and lay on your bed."
Knowing that resistance was futile, I only halfheartedly complained, "They will get better on their own."
"Now, young lady!"
I knew I couldn't get out of it, but I had to at least look like I really didn't want to submit. Slowly I got up; bending over, I grabbed my nightgown about knee level and started to pull it over my head. About the time my head was completely hidden, and from my armpits down wasn't, I heard some stifled giggling.
"What?" I demanded, as I struggled to finish the process.
"Nothing."
"This isn't funny, MayBee," I complained, as I dropped the nightgown on the floor.
"No, of course not. I'm sorry I giggled, it's just that - - - you look really cute in just a diaper. Do you think that maybe you could wear one from time to-"
"No way!"
"Maybe just once in a while?"
“Don’t even think about it,” I scowled.
"I'm sorry, but it’s just that you look so cute like that."
"Look, just as soon as I get my bladder working right, that'll be the end of the diapers, and you'll never see me in them again."
"Um, Matilda, if my memory is right, your bladder has never worked exactly right."
"Oh shut up," I scowled, trying to look serious. Imagine if you will; a little girl who looks to be under 8 years of age, standing in the middle of her bedroom, in just a diaper, trying to be serious. I almost giggled myself.
Once again, Mary Beth tried to stifle another bout of giggles. On the other hand, I had to at least try and look mad. I scowled some more, as I shook my fist at her, before I climbed onto my bed. "Just get this over with."
After I was comfortably lying on my stomach, Mary Beth came over with the tube of cream. Her giggling abruptly stopped and she was instantly serious, this was the first time she'd seen my back, and the burns. "Oh my," was all she said, as she started to gently apply the cream to my legs. After she'd finished with the legs, she started on my shoulders and gently started working her way down.
As she was working on the small of my back, she surprised me by asking, "Tell me again, why did you take care of me for all those weeks?"
I wondered why she would ask that question again, I knew she knew the answer. However, being in such a vulnerable position I didn't want to upset her. Still, I had to answer her question, not to do so would almost be a lie.
"Because I love you and you needed my help," I whispered.
Suddenly I felt the waistband of my pull-up being lifted away from my flesh, and a warm, greased, hand sliding down my left buttock; my heart skipped a beat or two.
“MARY BETH, what are you doing,” I cried out, as I tried to crawl away
In the most loving voice I've ever heard from Mary Beth, she meekly said, "Lay still please."
I didn’t seem to have much choice. If I pulled too hard, the sides of the pull-up would tear away, as they were designed to do. Being completely naked would be more embarrassing, than having Mary Beth’s hand gently sliding back and forth across on my tender bottom. As Mary Beth removed her hand, I felt a something strange, almost a pain of sadness. A moment later she repeated the process, the lifting of the waistband and her delightfully warm hand spreading the required cream across my right buttock.
Up to that point in my short life, I'd never experienced anything like that. I never knew that simple intimate contact by someone could give you such a feeling of ecstasy. I wished I could have suspended time and stayed in that moment, but it was not to be. Mary Beth quickly completed the task, removed her hands, and went into the bathroom to wash away the remnants of the cream.
I was still lying on my bed, trying to savor the moment, as Mary Beth returned. "You want some help getting your nightgown back on?"
I nodded, as I slowly pushed myself up and slid off the bed. Mary Beth picked up the nightgown and started fiddling with it. "Put your hands up," she said.
I did as I was told. I then felt the nightgown gently floating down over me.
"There you are, all ready for bed," she added a kiss to the top of my head.
"Thank you," I shyly replied.
Mary Beth then pulled down the blankets and helped me into bed, so the cream wouldn't be wiped off immediately by my nightgown. I was a little surprised when she pulled the blankets back up and tucked them in around me. I almost passed out when she bent down and kissed my nose.
"There you are my Munchkin, all tucked in."
"Thanks," I smiled. "I wasn't expecting the royal princess treatment."
"My pleasure. Matilda, can I ask you something?" she asked as she dropped to her knees, putting her at eye level with me.
"Sure."
"Would it be all right with you if I were to ... sleep in your bed again?" she quietly asked.
"What?" That question took me completely by surprise; I couldn't believe my ears.
It was several moments before she repeated the question "Can I sleep with you?" I sensed a hint of fear in her voice.
"But you said ... I thought you didn't want-"
"Forget what I said before. I wasn't thinking or acting the way I wanted to. I was reacting the way mom programmed me. Please forgive me, I was ignorant, and stupid, and ... I was scared." Mary Beth reached for the box of tissues.
"You were scared, of what?"
"I was scared of what the others would think if they found out. I was scared of what my mom might say. And I was scared that you just wanted to ... well, you know."
Sadly I nodded. 'I did know what she was referring to. I'd heard some of the sixth-grade boys bragging. I also knew that what Mary Beth feared could never happen, and that someday I would have to reveal my one last, embarrassing, little secret.'
"But mostly, I think I was scared to admit that I ... that I love you too."
"And you're not scared anymore?" I meekly asked.
"Yes, I'm still scared.” Mary Beth started to sniffle. “But I'm not scared of what I was scared of before. What I'm scared of now is-” Mary Beth slipped her hand under the blankets and took one of my hands into hers. “-is thinking that I might-" There were more sniffles as she tried to keep her emotions in check. "-that I might lose you again-ain-n-n-n." At that moment she broke down and started crying, a full-ledged downpour.
“Again?” I thought aloud.
“Y-Yes, a-again-n-n-n. W-when you di-didn’t sh-show up ta ch-change back, I-I tho-thought I-I'd n-never see y-you again-n-n. I-I just k-knew the m-most tear-terrible th-things ha-had ha-happened to y-you-u-u. I wa-was scr-screaming at A-Angel ta h-help m-me f-find y-ou. I ha-had ta f-find y-you, ta ho-hold y-you, ta tell y-you that I l-love y-you. El-Ellen w-was t-there, s-she gave m-me some-something ta m-make m-me st-stop scr-screaming. I tho-thought I-I l-lost y-you for go-good and th-that I wo-would be a-alone for-forever.”
As she started crying, I flipped the blankets off of me and slid off the bed. Taking my friend in my arms I tried unsuccessfully to sooth her fears. Having me standing, and MayBee on her knees, seemed a bit weird, but it put the top of her head just below my chin. It was just the right position for me to hold her close to me with one arm and stroke her hair with my other hand.
“I cou-couldn’t thi-think bout noth-nothing b-but f-finding y-you. I cou-couldn’t s-sing that n-night. T-They k-kept me away f-from the r-rest of the sch-school so t-they wo-wouldn't k-know y-you wa-was mis-missing. I j-just wa-wanted ta f-find y-you. Pl-Please Ma-Matilda, te-tell m-me y-you wo-wont le-leave m-me a-again. Pl-Please te-tell m-me that y-you st-still l-love m-me-e-e."
“Shh … Of course I still love you, with all my heart. Hush now, please stop crying. Everything is going to be okay. Of course, you can sleep with me. Shhh! Oh I’ve missed you so much.” I gently continued stroking her hair, as I reassured her of how much I loved her and how much she meant to me.
It was sometime before Mary Beth’s tears started to subside. Almost in a daze, she looked up at me timidly, asking “So do y-you still l-love me?”
“Of course, I do. I’ve said that over and over, a dozen times or more.”
“You have?”
“Yes, I have.”
“And, is it o-okay if I sleep with you again? I d-don’t like sleeping alone. I cry my-myself to sleep every night.”
“I know about you crying in bed at night. It breaks my heart to hear you that way, knowing there's nothing I can do to help you. Yes, you can sleep with me. I told you that many times in the last twenty minutes.”
“You did? Have I been crying that long?”
“Yes I did, and yes you have, you silly little girl.”
“One more question.” Along with some more sniffles. “When did you grow so tall?”
I smiled as I leaned over and kissed her up-turned nose. “When you decided to crawl around like a baby. Come on now, let's go to bed?”
Mary Beth slowly got up off the floor. I don’t know if my helping her was really helping, or if I was hindering her progress. Either way, we were both smiling as I crawled back under the blankets. I slid backwards across the bed, holding the blankets back, indicating that she should follow.
“But I always sleep behind you, with an arm around your waist,” she mentioned, as she slid her toes under the blankets.
“Not tonight my dear. Tonight I want to be able to look into your eyes as I fall asleep.”
“You’re a silly Munchkin.” Sniff.
“I thought you were the silly one tonight,” I teased, with a big smile.
With the blankets drawn up, lights out, I could just make out her lovely face in the trickle of light coming from the bathroom.
“Matilda,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I’ve acted so dumb. Do you forgive me?”
Taking her hands in mine, I smiled at her a moment before answering, “Of course I forgive you. Welcome home.”
Smiling, she kissed my nose.
‘Welcome home my love. After a long absence and way too many tears, we’ve both come home. Now I knew what she meant in the message she sent, “Nobody will separate us.” OH NO, what about . . .'
"Matilda, you look like something's bothering you."
"I was thinking about a message you sent me, before you got to Chicago. You said that nobody would separate us. What would you say if they ask me to-"
"WHAT HAVE THEY ASKED YOU TO DO NOW?"
"Well . . . They want me to go to Edinburgh with-"
"Edinburgh? Isn't that in England?"
"Actually It's in Scotland."
"Scotland! NOOOO. They c-can’t do that to me a-again, n-not again-n-n," she cried and cried, hiding her face in the pillow.
I scooted closer, putting my free arm over her back, gently stroking her as she cried herself to sleep.
’I wonder how badly they want me to go to Edinburgh. I guess if they really want me, they'll just have to make room for MayBee too.’
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 29
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
"I was just wondering why she's so sad."
"I think it's probably because she misses her family."
"I noticed she was hugging a teddy bear,"
"Oh that. It is a cute little thing, isn't it?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 29
By Penny Reed Cardon
December 22, 2004
Sleeping next to someone you love really makes a difference when it comes to how you feel the next morning. As I slowly became conscious, and before I made any movement, I noticed several things; first, my alarm wasn't going off. That meant I was awake a little sooner than I expected and I would be able to get to the bathroom with a dry pull-up. Second, my nightgown had ridden up again. Of course, there was nothing unusual about that. As soon as I'm done with this burn cream I'll go back to the frilly baby doll pajamas. The third thing I noticed was that Mary Beth was very gently running her hand back and forth over my diapered bottom. It felt kinda nice, for some reason it made me feel loved. I just don't remember her rubbing my bottom before, I wondered if it was just because of the diaper.
As nice as it was to lay there and enjoy the sensations brought on by Mary Beth's caressing, I wanted to get into the bathroom before my bladder decided it was too full. When I started to stretch Mary Beth quickly removed her hand, which left me to do a little wondering.
I opened my eyes and looked at Mary Beth, who appeared to be blushing as I greeted her cheerfully, "Good morning."
"Um, morning, Munchkin."
"Excuse me, but I've got to run," I said, as I scooted off the bed and dashed for the bathroom.
Just as I reached the bathroom door the alarm on my PDA went off. Shaking my head, I stopped and turned around. "Timing is everything," I complained, as I went back to silence the alarm.
Smiling, Mary Beth picked up the PDA and handed it to me as I approached. "It could be worse," she commented.
"Thanks," I said, as I took the PDA.
After resetting the alarm, I handed the PDA back and was once again headed for the bathroom. I was again just outside the bathroom door when I realized something was wrong. Shaking my head, I concurred with Mary Beth's sentiment, "You're right, it could be worse, and it is."
"What's worse? You mean?"
"Yes, just now. I guess they're right about timing being everything. Oh well, no sense in being glum about it. I think I'll start my day with a nice hot shower. Well perhaps a lukewarm shower, " I conceded, going to my closet to select a dress for the day.
I came out of the closet to find Mary Beth still lounging in bed. "You getting up this morning?"
"In a little while. Actually I thought I wait around for you to finish your shower. That way I can put your burn cream on before you get dressed instead of after."
"Good idea. I guess this dress can wait out here."
"What are you doing with that dress? We do have classes this morning and choir practice all afternoon. We're supposed to wear our school uniform, aren't we?"
"Doctors orders, nothing tight around my waist, except the pull-ups, for at least a week. Besides, I haven't worn this dress since our escape from Primary Children’s and I figured it was time to get it out again."
"At least you don't have to wear this silly uniform. Lucky."
"Luck has nothing to do with it, more like a freak of nature. I'm the freak and Mother Nature is attacking me."
"Matilda, are you putting yourself down again?"
"No, just trying to be silly. Besides, I like wearing the white blouse and plaid skirts."
"You're nuts."
With a deep bow I accepted her compliment, "Pourquoi vous remercie madememoiselle, (Why, thank you madememoiselle)."
"Passez sous la douche vous écrou, (Get in the shower, you nut)."
I came out of the bathroom to find Mary Beth waiting. I dropped my robe and lay on the bed. Mary Beth proceeded to gently apply the cream as she had the night before, legs, shoulders, back, and slipping her hand under the pull-ups. I felt a little guilty about enjoying the sensation that having her rubbing my bottom gave me, but not guilty enough to stop her.
While Mary Beth got ready for the day, I took the time to work through ‘Carol of the Bells’ a few times.
"Now, that sounds more like it," Mary Beth exclaimed, as she came back into the room.
"Thanks. It still needs some work, but I should be ready to impress Mrs. T this afternoon."
"You ready to go?"
"Let me grab a coat and I will be."
As soon as we walked through the door into the year A lounge, the Black Sheep started in.
"I didn't know we had a dance class this morning."
"Munchkin, you're out of uniform."
"Why you wearing a party dress?"
"Isn't there supposed to be a sash with that dress?"
"So where's the party?"
"Somebody's having a party?"
"Why wasn't I invited?"
"Are you joining the rebellion against these uniforms?"
"All right! Another rebel to join the cause."
"Never mind about your silly rebellion, where did you get that dress?"
"Yeah, I don't have a dress like that in my closet, what gives?"
"I thought all the closets had all the same stuff."
"Well, that's what you get for doing your own thinking."
"Oh yeah! Well, you're one to talk."
"Oh hush, you two, I've seen that dress before, I just don't remember where."
"Now that you mention it, it does look familiar."
"Oh skip the dress, what's with the running to the bathroom whenever your PDA goes off?"
"Hey, did someone do some psychological conditioning on you?"
"Kinda like a Pavlov's dog sorta thing?"
"And why did you crinkle when you sat down at dinner last night?"
"She crinkles?"
I calmly stood my ground, smiling, as twenty-one comments, jibes, and assorted suggestions came my way, at least none were to sinister or embarrassing, that is until the last two. They were starting to go in a direction that I didn't want them to go, and I was thinking, this could take a while. I motioned towards an empty couch, where Mary Beth and I could sit down. I guess they took our sitting down, as a calling for an end to the questions.
'I've missed being part of this family. They may be Black Sheep, but they're my Black Sheep and I wouldn't want to be anyplace else.'
When the creative flow ceased, it was my turn to get back at them. "Only twenty-one? I'm almost disappointed. What's happened to you guys, you get out of practice while I've been away?"
Half of their faces seemed puzzled by my response; the other half appeared surprised. Howard, as usual, was the first to come up with a quick come back, "We're just taking it easy on you, cus you're one of us."
"Oh, that's it, you're taking it easy on me. Tell me, what's the latest rumor, am I supposed to be dying or something?" I teasingly asked. Which caused several of their expressions to change from puzzled to alarmed.
"Not that I'm aware of," Mary Beth quickly replied.
"Why would you say something like that?" Hope asked.
"Because you guys don't go easy on anyone, let alone one of your own. I was beginning to think there might be some wild and crazy rumor going around." 'Which I'm sure there are.'
"Well, there are always a few rumors going around," Em stated.
Tony finished for Em, "We're just not sure which ones to believe."
"Of course, we could create a few of our own, that's always good fun," George added.
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm sure there are enough rumors about me, without fabricating any new ones," I replied, kindly rejecting George's offer.
"Well?" Howard asked.
"Well what?" Aaron asked.
"Well, I was wondering if Matilda was going to answer the questions?" Howard elaborated.
"After everything else that has gone on, you expect her to remember and answer all the questions?" Jenny asked.
"Well, she's the one that spoiled us," Vikk added in defense of Howard.
"I spoiled you! Please tell me how I managed to spoil you?" I complained.
"By answering the questions the first time we heckled you," George piped in.
"Yeah, we've had a lot of come-backs," Howard proclaimed.
"A few of them were almost rude," Vikk added.
"We've been told to hush-up more than once," Sue complained.
"And we've been completely ignored more times than I can remember," George exclaimed.
"But nobody had ever used answers as a come back before," Howard explained.
"When you started answering the questions, it brought our heckling to a new level," Vikk added.
"Looks like I've screwed up again," I mumbled.
Mary Beth put her arm around me, and with a smile said, "Yes, but in a good way."
I looked around at the different expressions. "Oh what the heck. No dance class. Yes, I'm out of uniform. Doctor’s orders. Yes, there is a sash that goes with this dress, but I can't wear it right now. I'm not aware of any party. Same as previous answer. You weren't invited because there isn't a party. No, I'm not joining the rebellion, I happen to like the school uniform. Refer to last answer. You would have to ask my mom where she bought it. As far as I know, nobody else has a dress like this. To my knowledge, all the closets are the same, with this one exception. The next two statements were not directed at me. It should look familiar, it's the dress I wore for my graduation from girl 101, 102, and to the dance afterwards. It's kind of a personal matter, that I'd rather not discuss. No psychological conditioning, at least not that I'm aware of. I had hoped it was that noticeable. Yes and refer back three answers."
The room was silent for several moments before the applause started. 'I really wish they wouldn't make such a big thing about it. Maybe I shouldn't answer their questions anymore.'
As the applause died off, Jenny asked, "What were you referring to when you said doctor’s orders? I have heard some rumors about some burns, can you elaborate?"
"Personally, I haven't heard the rumors, so I can't confirm or deny if they're true. However, the facts of the situation is, that while I was taking a shower at the truck stop in Nebraska, the water suddenly changed and I was hit with straight hot water. Before I could react and get the water off, my back and legs were burned by the hot water. Doctor Harris has ordered that I can't wear any tight clothing, that includes belts, sashes, or elastic waistbands."
"No tight waistbands? What about underwear?" Someone called out.
"Don't tell us you aren't wearing panties!" Someone else cried out, followed by a general wide spread murmuring.
Waving my hands, they settled down. "Of course I'm wearing underwear, that's the only thing I can have around my waist. I'm sure Ellen would have some very strong words with anyone caught wearing a skirt and no underwear. Not to mention how upset she'd be with Dr Harris if he were to suggest that anyone do such a thing.” “It's just not the underwear you'd normally expect." I whispered the last sentence in Mary Beth's ear.
"You can say that again," Mary Beth agreed with a giggle.
"So that's why you've been sitting so gently?" Hope asked.
"That's it," I confirmed.
"So how bad are the burns?" Em inquired.
"Dr Harris says I have severe first degree burns from my shoulders to my knees," I explained.
"So what are they doing about the burns?" Hope questioned.
"I have to put on some cream twice a day, for the next seven days. After that, they'll re-evaluate and see what the next step should be."
"You put a cream on?" Mary Beth asked sarcastically.
"Okay, okay; MayBee puts the cream on my back and legs," I admitted, giving her a smile.
'No need in giving out all of the intimate details.'
"And the crinkle?" Peggy asked.
"She said she didn't want to discuss it," Hope reminded everyone.
I looked at Mary Beth, kinda asking her if I should tell them or not. She responded by shrugging her shoulders, smiling, and putting an arm around me.
I leaned against Mary Beth for comfort, support, and to help build some courage. "I guess you guys might as well know, but don't tell anyone outside of our year. The rest of the school can speculate all they want." I paused a moment, then mumbled, "This is really embarrassing. Ok, to put it simply, while I was acting like Sally, my bladder muscles forgot how to work and it's taking some time to retrain them."
There was a moment of silence before Misa started to ask, "You mean you can't control when you-"
"That's what it means," Mary Beth interrupted.
"But it is getting better. It's just taking some time," I quickly added.
"So the crinkle is-"
"Don't say it," I interrupted. "But yes."
In the corner I heard some snickering. Followed by some stifled laughter as Howard sputtered, "Matilda's being potty trained."
'I thought these guys would have been more understanding. I knew I shouldn't have said anything to-' My thoughts were interrupted by a loud,
"What the heck was that for?" Howard complained.
"That's for being an insensitive goat," Vicki scolded him.
"What? It's kinda funny," Howard defended his comment.
"Tell me this, mister funny bones, how funny would it be if the situation was reversed?" Hope asked.
"What are you talking about?" Howard demanded to know.
"Howard, do we have to paint a word picture for you?" Niki started in.
"Easy to do, but for him you better make it a simple picture," Vikk added.
"Okay Howard, listen close, you know that horse you like to ride?" Hope started the story.
"You must mean Lightning," Tony volunteered.
"That's the one. Let's say you're out riding one day and Lightning gets startled and throws you off, breaking your legs. You spend the next six weeks in traction, like Matilda's sister Rachael," Niki continued.
"How well do you think your muscles are going to work after being diapered all that time?" Hope asked.
"Will it be funny then?" Vikk asked.
"I, I guess that wouldn't be very funny," Howard slowly admitted.
"So, is it funny that Matilda is having a problem?" Em inquired.
Shaking his head, Howard graciously apologized, "Matilda, I'm sorry. I was just surprised by someone our age being ... you know. I wasn't thinking about how you must feel. Please accept my apology."
"I know what you mean, Howard; it's surprising to me as well. Even more so because I'm the one having to be ..." I couldn't even say it, I just shook my head.
"Now that we have all had today's lesson in being sensitive to the feelings of others, let's go over today’s schedule," Jenny proclaimed, tactfully changing the subject.
The schedule for the day was brief; everyone, pay attention to Mrs. T's choir schedule and be where you need to be. Breakfast was almost routine; good food, good friends, and just a couple of minor announcements. After a visit with Rachael, we had some free time, being that our first rehearsal was scheduled from 2:00 to 4:00. The rest of the morning I spent with the glockenspiel, with Mary Beth on the couch, listening and making suggestions. By the time 2:00 rolled around, we both felt that Mrs. T would be impressed.
The practice room, our group was scheduled to use, had a glockenspiel setup, off to one side; unfortunately, it was on a tall stand. Fortunately for me, Russell, from year F, and Jean-Paul, from year G, were helpful and moved the glockenspiel off the tall stand and set it on the seats of two chairs that were facing each other.
I was casually plinking away, doing some scales, when Mrs. T came in. "Good afternoon everyone. I hope you've brought your best singing voices with you. Matilda, what do you think of the glockenspiel so far? Are you going to be ready to accompany this small choir tomorrow evening?"
I wanted to save the surprise for a few more minutes, so I replied to Mrs. T's question, by shrugging my shoulders.
The choir was going to be singing ten carols, I'd been given music for five of them. I thought it was strange that I didn't have music for all the carols, until I saw that Terri, from year H, had a flute with her. First they sang ‘The Christmas Song’, followed by ‘White Christmas’, ‘Home for the Holidays’, and ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’, with Terri playing her flute. Then they sang ‘Silver Bells’; which I did have music for, but hadn't practiced. I figured that trying to play something cold would make Mrs. T a bit nervous about me playing with the choir. Of course, having her nervous at that time was a perfect set up for what was to come. I also had music for ‘Let it Snow’. I'd only practiced it twice and it was still pretty rough.
The choir then sang ‘We Wish you a Merry Christmas’ and ‘Feliz Navidad’, which they sang a cappella. When Mrs. T ask everyone to get out their music for ‘Silent Night’ I looked at Mary Beth and gave a little smile. We both knew’ that I knew that one pretty well. ‘Silent Night’ is a fun little carol, and easy to play. Mrs. T smiled as I played with a little more enthusiasm.
Then came ‘Carol of the Bells’; it starts with a short glockenspiel solo. I watched Mrs. T for my down beat. I started out very lightly tapping on the bars, progressively getting stronger. As my four measure solo was coming to an end, I looked at Mrs. T to make sure I was in time and following her lead. To my surprise she wasn't leading, her right hand and baton were resting on the music stand; there was a definite smile on her face. I took Mrs. T's smile as an okay to continue, so I did.
I didn't notice when Mary Beth moved from her place with the choir to standing behind me. As I finished, she stepped up to stand next to me. I was a little surprised when she spoke, "Show off."
"Not me," I timidly replied.
"Oh, yes you were," she giggled.
Mrs. T crossed over to stand on the other side of the glockenspiel. "It looks like you've been holding out on us."
"Oh no. I've never played a glockenspiel before," I professed.
With her arm around me, Mary Beth added, "She did dabble with a piano a while ago."
"Dabble?" Mrs. T questioned. I was about to reply, when she interrupted me. "Well Matilda, it looks like we found a form of musical expression that's right for you. I'll inform Leonard he has a new orchestra member. I also want you to spend the rest of today's free time working with Darryl, to work on your technique."
"Who's Leonard?" I questioned.
"Leonard Renard, the orchestra director. You didn't know that the orchestra has its own director and rehearsal times?"
"Umm, no."
Cheerfully, Mrs. T continued, "I'll introduce you after Christmas. For now, I think we should continue with our caroling practice, don't you?"
The rest of choir practice went pretty well. Mrs. T had us work on the carols that I had music for. She was impressed by how quickly I learned the carols I hadn't practiced.
There was something strange going on at dinner. There were only two visiting psychiatrists, instead of the usual six. There was also no Mr. Peterson and no announcements. Well, Mr. Peterson not being there wasn't that strange, but only two adults to supervise thirty children. Back at Whittier that would be an invitation for a food fight. Here, a quiet and pleasant evening meal was enjoyed by all.
'Gee I like this school.'
I spent several hours with Darryl. He taught me a lot of fun things you can do with the mallets and the glockenspiel, to get different effects.
Our second choir practice for the day, was from 8:00 to 10:00 pm. I thought it strange that they'd schedule a rehearsal right up to our curfew. The second peculiarity about that evening’s rehearsal, was that Roberta was conducting. Later, I found out that Mrs. T was out with one of the caroling groups. I assumed, that was also the case for the missing psychiatrists and counselors.
Our nightime routine went about the same as the night before with one exception; we changed into our nightgown and pj's, after reading our scriptures and saying our prayers. That way I didn't have to get undressed twice in order for Mary Beth to apply the burn cream.
We tried sleeping in our customary positions, with Mary Beth behind me, with her arm around me, but it was too uncomfortable. In the end, I rolled to my stomach and then onto my other side, so I was again facing my dear companion. Holding hands we drifted off to sleep.
December 23, 2004
I woke up in pain.
I'd apparently rolled onto my back during the night. Perhaps it was something to do with sleeping on my right side instead of my left, as I usually do. Whatever the reason, I didn't spend any extra time lounging around in bed.
"What's the matter?" Mary Beth asked, as I jumped out of bed.
"My back hurts," I complained. Turning around, I lay across the foot of the bed on my stomach.
Quickly, Mary Beth got up and came around to where I was laying. "Lift up," she said, as she started pulling at the hem of my nightgown.
"Your back is really red. What did you do?"
"I don't know. I guess I was sleeping on my back, at least I woke up on my back. I just don't know how long I was on my back."
"I know they assigned me medical as a specialty, but I've only started my training in basic first aid. Hum, I don't know about this. Do you think I should try to get Dr. Harris to come look at your back?"
"How am I supposed to know, I can't see what you're seeing? I'm going to have to trust your judgment."
I heard Mary Beth cross the room, and then I heard the dial tone as she pick up the phone's handset. "I'm going to see if Marie or Tina can come here."
A few moments later, someone must have answered. "Hello, this is Mary Beth. I'm calling about Matilda."
"She woke up this morning in more pain than normal."
"She was sleeping on her back and her back is very red right now."
"No. She normally sleeps on her left side, but she started out on her right side last night."
"Yes. I was wondering if you or Marie could come and take a look at her?"
"I don't know if Dr. Harris needs to see her."
"That's why I thought your opinion would be better than what little I've learned."
"Okay, that'll be fine."
"Yes, we're in her room. We'll see you then. Thanks Tina."
"Tina will be here in about ten minutes," Mary Beth informed me, as she sat on the bed next to me.
"I gathered she would be coming here, from your side of the conversation. Do I have to stay like this until she gets here, or can I move?"
Just then my alarm went off.
Mary Beth handed me my PDA as she asked, "Move, what do you mean?"
"I thought I would go change into something dry," I replied glumly. "I also think I should set this alarm a half an hour earlier." I handed my PDA back to Mary Beth.
"I don't see a problem with changing before Tina gets here. Just don't do anything to put pressure on your back."
I shimmied off my bed and headed for my closet. I grabbed a pair of heavy socks, along with a dry pull-up, before I performed a little disappearing act.
"Hello Tina," I greeted, as I emerged from the bathroom.
"Hello Matilda. I understand you've been a naughty girl," Tina chastised.
With a look of surprise, I objected, "Not me! I'm never naughty. It's just Miss Trouble chasing after me again."
"Miss Trouble?" Mary Beth inquired.
"Of course, Miss. You're the one that keeps telling me that Trouble isn't a Mister," I explained.
"Ms, Miss or Mister doesn't matter to me," Tina interrupted, with a chuckle and a smile. "Matilda, I want you on the bed and I want Mary Beth in the next room."
"Ohh, demanding, isn't she," I teased.
"You should have her as a teacher," Mary Beth added with a grin, just before she slipped through the interconnecting door and disappeared.
A moment later Tina called out, "Are you going to close the door?"
"No," came Mary Beth's distant reply. Followed by her asking, "Do I need to close the door?"
My turn to answer, "No."
"I take it you two have an open relationship," Tina commented as she lifted my nightgown over my head. "Lie down please."
"I'm not quite sure what you mean by that, but she has been putting the burn cream on my back and legs," I stated.
"I see. Your legs are looking about as they should, given the limited healing time they've had. Your back however is a bit more inflamed than I would have expected. Lift up please," Tina requested, as she put several fingers inside the waistband of my pull-up, drawing them down to my knees.
"Hmm, you're a bit inflamed here as well. You two haven't been experimenting with bedroom gymnastics, have you?"
"With what?"
"Never mind. Wrong question to ask someone in year A. Mary Beth said you were sleeping on your back. Am I correct in assuming that isn't normal?"
"Normally I sleep on my left side."
"And you don't normally roll around?"
"Not usually."
"If I were you, I'd stay off your back. I don't think we need to bother Dr. Harris with this, but for today I think you should have the burn cream applied three times today, instead of twice. I'll make a note of this in your file and while I'm here, I might as well take care of this morning's application."
"But I haven't had my shower yet," I interrupted.
"Today, you can shower later. Where do you keep the tube of cream?"
I turned my head and called out, "Mary Beth, where's the-"
"In the second drawer of your nightstand," Mary Beth called back, interrupting me.
"She knows and you don't?" Tina sarcastically asked, as she went after the cream.
"She’s been making sure I use it," I answered softly.
"Well, good for her," Tina complimented Mary Beth's actions, as she started turning me into a greased piglet, once again.
After greasing me up and replacing my pull-up, Tina helped me get off the bed. I assured Tina that I could dress myself without rubbing off the cream. Accepting my assurance, Tina left and I headed for my closet.
While I was waiting for Mary Beth to get ready, I spent my time practicing the glockenspiel, instead of playing games with Joshua. The morning getogether held no surprises and no heckling, which was oddly refreshing. Mary Beth and I had an early morning choir practice. And we had received a message from Mrs. T to have a light breakfast.
Our first rehearsal of the day was right after breakfast. Our second rehearsal was during lunch. We had to eat lunch early, because Ellen had scheduled to see me right after choir practice.
"Good afternoon, Matilda," Ellen greeted, as I entered her office.
"Hello Ellen. What did I do now?" I jokingly asked.
"Nothing that I know of. Is there anything you want to tell me?"
"Ummmm, no, nothing I can think of."
"Very well. The reason I asked to see you on such short notice, is to discuss this evening’s caroling trip."
"All we've been told so far is that we'll be leaving at 2:00 pm. What about it?"
"This morning I was told where your group will be going. We don't normally discuss the destinations with the students, they just mix them up, so each year the students see some place new."
"So, why are you talking to me?"
"Because of where you are going and because of your current medical needs."
"My medical needs?"
"Sorry, I was trying to get my point across delicately. I see I've failed. Your need to wear the pull-ups."
"Oh. What about them?"
"Tell me, how often do you use the restroom?"
"I've been setting the alarm on my PDA for an hour and thirty minutes. If it's convenient to use a restroom sooner, I will."
"And, how often do you have to change your pull-up?"
I was a bit agitated by Ellen's question and answered with a bit of hostility. "What, you don't get a daily report on my usage rate? You don't have someone count them when they return the clean clothes to my closet?"
"No, I don't," she replied calmly. "Why are you becoming upset? I'm sorry to have to get so personal, I'm only trying to help you."
"I'm sorry. I remember the laundry people reporting to you when I'd wet the bed. I just figured-"
"No Matilda. When someone who doesn't normally wet their bed does so, it's usually a sign of great stress in their life; so naturally we would want to know about it. You, on the other hand, have what I consider to be a medical condition. Your condition is being taken care of by you and Dr. Harris, so there's no need for anything to be reported to me."
"Oh. So why am I here?"
"As I said, it’s because of where you're going, and your current medical needs. Where you're going is farther than we sent any of our carolers before. Partly, this is your fault."
"My fault?"
"Well, you and Mary Beth. You see, you're both so new to the school and you're both from the Salt Lake City area. In order to protect our students and the school, we wouldn't want either of you to be recognized. So your group will be going north, into Cache valley."
"Cache valley? I've been through there once, that's a long way to go Christmas Caroling, don't you think?"
"I would agree that it's a long way to travel, but what are the chances of you being recognized?"
"Chances are usually referred to in odds or percentages, and I don't think you can express a percentage with a negative number," I jokingly replied.
"I believe you are correct, which brings us to you and your needs. The travel time from here to the first destination will be approximately two and a half hours. As I see it, you have a choice to make; you may request that the bus stop halfway so you may take a restroom break or you could - well, you know. Either way I would recommend you take some extra pull-ups along, just in case."
"That's some choice, have everyone know I can't hold it, or deliberately wet myself. You don't like to make things easy for me, do you?"
"I'm certainly trying, that’s why we're talking right now. It's better to know in advance than be surprised, wouldn't you agree?"
"I suppose so. May I ask who's going with our group?"
"What do you mean?"
"Just that, I'm sure there's a policy about how many adult chaperones must accompany a group of students."
"What does that have to do with it?"
"I was just wondering how many will be upset with stopping every hour and a half. I'm getting to the point that I know when I need to go. I think that deliberately ignoring that feeling and wetting the pull-up would be taking several steps backwards, wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed I do, Matilda. As for how many will be upset with frequent stops, I don't think anyone will be bothered by stopping. With your permission, I'll see what can be arranged. However, I would still recommend you take a couple extra pull-ups with you, just in case."
"I guess that's a good idea. I don't remember there being a purse that size in my closet, any suggestions?"
"I'd recommend using your gym bag, putting the pull-ups in the bottom, a towel or two on top, and then the glockenspiel mallets folded in the towel."
"That's a good idea."
"Thank you. You'd better get going and get ready. You should be leaving in forty-five minutes."
"Forty-five minutes? I've gotta run, I need a shower and get a new coat of burn cream put on. See you later, Ellen," I thanked Ellen as I rushed out of her office.
"Where have you been?" Mary Beth scolded, as I entered my room. "You do know we're leaving in thirty-five minutes, don't you?"
"Yes, I know what time we're leaving. I was with Ellen," I agreed, while starting to undo the buttons on my dress. Rushing to my closet, I grabbed my gym bag and threw in four pull-ups.
As I rushed to the bathroom I asked, "Would you please get the burn cream and my clothes ready, while I'm in the shower?"
"Sure thing, hurry up. We still have to exchange our PDA's before we leave."
"Oh, I almost forgot about that. Let's see if I can shower in five minutes," I exclaimed, as I closed the bathroom door.
I didn't do too badly. Seven minutes later, Mary Beth was busy applying the burn cream. After that came a full slip, white blouse, a knee length dark blue pleated skirt with a matching jacket, lace anklets and a pair of black pumps, with a two-inch heal. I know, I know, I wasn't supposed to wear a skirt with an elastic waistband, but that's what all the girls were wearing. Lace anklets, you ask? Well, I had to draw the line someplace. I compromised with the skirt, but there was no way I was going to put on a pair of heavy white tights. The waistband was going to cause me enough discomfort. I could imagine how much pain I would be in after nine or ten hours in those tights.
Mary Beth and I were only a few minutes late joining the rest of our group, in the lobby of the administration building. The good news was, we weren't the last to arrive; Susanne and Russell had that honor.
RJ took care of the PDA exchange, after which the whole group headed out to the van. According to what we've heard from some older students, I expected that we would be crowded into a fifteen passenger van. What we found waiting was a small bus, much to my relief. Being the smallest I had been sure I was going to have to sit on someone else's lap. Sitting on someone’s bony knees for five hours, even with a padded bottom, was not something I was looking forward to.
To my surprise, Elder Johnson was driving the bus. That pretty much confirmed my suspicions about his status. I've not seen or heard of him being a teacher, which would indicate that he's part of the school’s security detail. In the seat behind him was a younger man. I looked at him carefully for a few moments, I hadn't seen him before and wanted to commit his face to memory; I'd do some research with Joshua later.
We'd been on the bus for a few minutes when I saw two figures leave the building heading for the bus. I didn’t pay much attention to them because Mary Beth was talking about something. That is I didn't pay attention until the two figures boarded the bus. The first was Ellen, who stopped and talked with Elder Johnson for a few moments before she went down the aisle and sat in one of the empty seats in the back. What really surprised me was the second of the two figures; it was my mom.
I grabbed Mary Beth's arm as I directed her attention. I'm sure my mouth was hanging open as I couldn't believe my eyes. As mom passed by, on her way to join Ellen, she smiled and gently patted my shoulder.
"What's she doing here?" Mary Beth whispered.
"I guess she must be one of the chaperones," I whispered back.
"But you're not suppose-"
"I know, I know," I interrupted Mary Beth's question. "I don't understand it either. I guess we'll have to talk with Ellen sometime, sometime soon."
"The sooner the better, I don't like being confused."
"What are you talking about, you're confused almost half the time," I teased, no longer whispering.
"That may be, but it doesn't mean I like it. Besides, that's why I keep you around."
"To keep you confused?"
"No. To un-confuse me," she said with a smile.
I shook my head as I rhetorically asked, "How am I supposed to un-confuse you, when I'm confused?"
"You're able to un-confuse me, because you're so good at figuring things out."
"You're a nut."
"Yes, but it takes a nut to know a nut."
"That may be, but who is the nuttier nut, the nut or the nut that follows her?"
"Huh?"
There was some muffled laughter coming from the seat behind us. As Mary Beth and I turned to look, Susanne leaned forward. "I'd say that round goes to the Munchkin," she said softly, still chuckling. "Are you two always so much fun to be around?"
"Oh no, we're not always like this …" Mary Beth started.
"… sometimes - we're actually boring," I finished. Which had Susanne giggling even more as she sat back.
The trip down the canyon was uneventful, as was our trek through Salt Lake; although, mostly we were keeping to the roads less traveled. Along the way, we were given an interesting tour of the University of Utah campus, along with a view of the backside of the capital building. Once we hit the freeway on ramp, I stopped paying attention to the scenery and leaned over, resting my head on Mary Beth's shoulder.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" she asked.
"It's been a rough day, I thought I would rest a bit."
"On me?"
"Well, you are softer than the window, warmer too."
"You're definitely the nuttier nut," she groaned, laying her head over on mine.
"That may be, but who is following whom?"
"Oh hush up."
I was enjoying the gentle vibration of the bus, drifting in and out of sleep, when the vibration changed. Sitting up I discovered the reason for the change, we were slowing down and pulling off the freeway. I knew we weren't anywhere near Cache Valley. Being that I had been too embarrassed about my situation to talk with Elder Johnson about needing to stop, I had to assume that Ellen had been able to arrange some extra stops.
As we came to a stop, Ellen stood up and announced, "We're making a short pit stop. You'll have about twenty minutes to use the facilities and stretch your legs. It will be another hour and a half before we reach our first engagement."
She didn't have to tell me twice. As soon as Ellen said 'pit stop,' I was up and dragging Mary Beth towards the door of the bus. I was relieved to have the opportunity to relieve myself. I would have to thank Ellen for looking out for me.
After we'd made use of the faculties, Mary Beth and I ran into Ellen as we were making our way back to the bus. "Thank you," I said as we passed.
Ellen stopped, appearing slightly puzzled. "For what?"
"For arranging this pit stop," I replied.
"Oh, yes, you're welcome. However, after you rushed out of my office, I realized that you and I, and just a few others, were the only ones that knew how far we'd be traveling. It occurred to me that there might be some others who might need a break. So with a little last minute changing of our route, we have time for everyone to relax."
Once everyone was back aboard, we were off. I know I slept most of the way, because I don't remember much of anything between Ogden and stopping in front of the Williamsburg Retirement Community.
I grabbed my bag as everyone began an ordinary exodus. I was happy that Russell and Jean-Paul had agreed to take care of transporting the glockenspiel. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, I waited until they had passed before I stepped into the aisle. Hindsight being the only perfect science, I shouldn't have waited.
When we got into the lobby, Ellen was talking with someone from the center. As for me, I started wandering around looking for a, once again, much needed faculty. I left the lobby going down what appeared to be a major hallway, franticly trying to prevent something from happening, that ten days ago would have been normal.
I was concentrating so hard to control some tiny muscles, that my normal instincts must have been dormant, as I was startled when a kind, older, lady asked, "Are you lost little one?"
Being suddenly startled combined with the instinct of swinging my leg, fortunately the lady was too far away, caused me to break my concentration. The result was predictable, although undesirable, it also caused some embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologized, placing a hand on my shoulder.
Not knowing exactly what to say, I stuttered a bit, "I, I ... I'm with the choir. I, I'm looking for a, a-"
"Oh, did you get separated from them? They're down the other hall, in the-"
"Matilda, there you are!" Ellen interrupted the kind lady and scolding me at the same time. "What do you think you're doing, wandering about all alone? You've got half the choir looking for you."
I stood silently, not really sure if Ellen was upset with me or putting on a show for the small group that had suddenly gathered. I've seen Ellen upset before, but I've never seen her scolding anyone before, this was something new.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
Timidly I replied, as held up my bag, "I was looking for a restroom."
Ellen's demeanor suddenly changed. "Matilda, I'm so sorry. I was so involved with the arrangements, I completely forgot about you. Here, come with me."
Ellen took me by the hand and led me back to the lobby and then down another hall. About halfway down the hall we made a quick left and then a right, and right again, right into a women's restroom.
"You knew where the restroom was?" I asked.
"I noticed the signs when we were shown to the room where you'll be performing. You just picked the wrong hall to explore."
"Nobody's perfect," I complained, as I entered and closed a stall door.
"Darn," I complained, halfway through the process of changing.
"Problem?" Ellen asked.
"Nothing major, I forgot to throw in some wet wipes."
"Try these." Ellen offered some paper towels under the stall door, one had been moistened.
"Thank you. These should do the trick. WHOO HOO, hoo."
"What's the problem now?"
"Don't they have any hot water around here?"
Ellen laughed as she apologized, "Oops, sorry about that."
A few minutes later we were back with the rest of choir, getting ready for our first performance of the day. Roberta was conducting and the smile on Ellen's face told me that we did very well. Keeping with the school’s tradition, we closed by singing the national anthem. As soon as we started, all the men and most of the women stood and joined us as we paid tribute to our country. With so many voices to drown me out, even I joined in. While we were all singing, I couldn't help but wonder how many of these good people had served in the military. I also wondered if there was something more we could do or say, to say thank you.
After our little concert, we were invited to enjoy some light refreshments. Knowing that we'd be going to dinner after our second concert, and not wanting to perform on full stomachs, we were cautioned to socialize more and eat less. Chatting with people who were six and seven times my age, was an interesting experience.
Our second concert was at the Logan Regional Hospital. We were ushered into a small auditorium, where the audience was a mixture of patients and staff. There were quite a few adults, as well as a large number of children.
As we started each carol, most of the children joined in, along with a lot of the adults. With everyone singing along, the atmosphere was much more festive, which made the concert at the hospital a lot more fun. We were all having so much fun, that after we'd finished the ten carols that were planned, Roberta called out the name of another carol that we all knew, and another, and another. In all, we performed, or rather we led, the audience in singing twenty carols, before we closed in our traditional way.
When I wasn't playing the glockenspiel, I couldn't help myself, instincts and all that, I scanned the audience. What caught my eye was a very sad little girl, maybe five or six. She was in a wheelchair, with casts on both legs. Seeing her reminded me that I needed to spend more time with Rachael. After all, after she's discharged from the Manor's hospital, I may never see her again.
However, thinking of Rachael wasn't what drew my attention to the little girl, in the wheelchair. What drew my attention was how sad she was. With all the cheerful singing going on around her, she had tears in her eyes. Not only was she crying, she was doing her best to hug the stuffing out of a small teddy bear - a very familiar looking teddy bear.
As we were leaving the stage and the nurses were helping the patients back to their rooms, my curiosity got the better of me. It was time for one of my disappearing acts, I almost got away with it.
"Matilda! What are you up to now?" Mary Beth asked, while taking a firm grip on my arm.
"Quick, see the little girl in the wheelchair?" I asked, pointing down the hall.
"Yes, so?"
"Did you see the teddy bear she's hugging?"
"She's hugging a teddy bear, so what. - Hey, isn't that one of the bears we-"
I interrupted her by placing my hand over her mouth. "Shh, not so loud. Yes it is. Come on, I want to find out why she's so sad."
We followed the girl, and her nurse escort, down the hall and around a corner. By the time we rounded the corner they'd disappeared.
"Now what?" Mary Beth asked.
Taking a quick look around I realized how they'd disappeared. "They're on one of the elevators that are going up."
"And just how did you come to that conclusion?"
With my best Holmes voice, "First, they were less than a minute ahead of us and there aren't any other doors with a range where they could have disappeared. Second, they would care for a child of that size in pediatrics. Third, according to the hospital directory on the wall behind us, pediatrics is on the third floor. Fourth, both of these elevators were going up when we arrived at this location."
"All right, your ability to piece a puzzle together is good, but if you call me Watson, I'll tweak your nose. So, what do we do now, go back with the others? You know Ellen will be upset if they have to come looking for us."
"I don't know about you, but I'm planning to scream and run. Well, let's skip the screaming part and just do the running," I said, as I opened the door with a placard indicating that behind the door were stairs. Mary Beth let out an exasperated sigh, shook her head, and followed me up three flights of stairs.
Once on the third floor, it didn't take long to find the pediatrics wing. A nurse confronted us as soon as we walked through the double doors. "May I Help you?"
It was my curiosity that led us here, so it only seemed right that I should take the lead. "Hello. We're part of the choir that just did the concert downstairs."
"Yes, that was downstairs. What are you doing up here?"
"Well, I noticed a girl in a wheelchair; she has casts on both her legs."
"Yes, Jane was at the concert. They just took her back to her room. You aren't related to her are you?"
"No. I was just wondering why she's so sad. I think she was crying all through the concert."
"Being that you aren't related to her I can't discuss her condition. As for being sad, I think it's probably because she's alone and misses her family."
Now I was more interested. "What do you mean, she misses her family?"
"She doesn't get to see her family very often. As I understand it, they have a little farm in the north end of the valley. They can only afford to come into Logan once every two weeks. They won't be back to see her until after the New Years."
"They aren't going to make an exception for Christmas?" Mary Beth questioned.
"I don't know."
"I noticed she was hugging a teddy bear," Mary Beth said.
"Oh that. It is a cute little thing, isn't it? For the last few years, some local school has been sending toys for the children that have to spend Christmas in the hospital. Some of the nurses figured Jane could use a present early."
"If they gave her a present early, are there enough for her to get another one on Christmas?" I casually asked.
"I'm afraid not. Actually, we've had six more children admitted since the school dropped off the toys."
"That's terrible," Mary Beth complained.
"I agree, but some things are impossible to forsee," the nurse sadly agreed.
"Well, we better be going now," Mary Beth said, tugging on my arm.
Nodding sadly, I turned to follow. I paused a moment, turning back to the kind nurse, "Thank you for taking time to talk with us."
"You're welcome. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Mary Beth and I chorused.
Quietly, we walked down the three flights of stairs and made our way out to the bus. It was no surprise we could see that everyone else was on the bus, everyone except Mom and Elder Johnson that is. As we approached the bus, Ellen stepped off the bus to confront the two of us.
"Where have you two been?" Ellen demanded. "Do you know we've been turning that hospital upside down looking for you two?"
As Ellen finished I turned and saw mom rushing out of the hospital. I turned back to see Ellen waiting for an answer.
"We were in pediatrics," I replied softly.
"Pediatrics! What were you doing in pediatrics?"
"My curiosity ran away with me again," I confessed, hanging my head in shame.
"And we learned more than we bargained for," Mary Beth tried to defend me.
"That doesn't explain what you were doing in pediatrics,"
"Ellen, perhaps we should discuss this incident later, and privately. I'm sure all the students are hungry," Mom commented, resting a hand on my shoulder.
For a moment, Ellen looked like a child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "You're right of course, Edith. As soon as our driver shows up we'll be on are way. As for you two, I'll expect to see you in my office, early tomorrow morning."
"Yes ma'am," we chorus.
Once we were settled into our seats, Elder Johnson came out of the hospital. After he got the all aboard from Ellen, he fired up the engine and we soon found ourselves pulling up to the covered entry of a restaurant called Hamilton's.
Before the door was opened, Ellen's had a few announcements. "For the older students, this will be nothing new. For our four younger students, this will probably be a new experience. So far today, we've received excellent reviews for our two performances. This is what's considered a nice restaurant, and we expect your behavior to reflect positively towards yourselves and the school. Susanne and Russell, I'd like you to escort Mary Beth and Matilda. Leslie and Rafael, would you please act as escorts for Shawana and Cory. As escorts, it's your job to educate our younger students and see that they have an enjoyable experience. Everyone, enjoy your evening, and please, no disappearing acts while we're here." I knew the last comment was directed at me.
Dinner was enjoyable and there were no surprises. Susanne and Russell made good escorts. They helped us with the elaborate restaurant menus and learning how to get what we wanted.
The conversation, while we ate, centered on the trip and my frequent disappearances. Without going into too many details, we explained about my medical problems; which they had some knowledge of, via the ever popular rumor mill. We also told them of our foray into the pediatrics and the reason for Jane's sadness.
After dinner, we drove around for about thirty minutes, looking at Christmas lights, before starting back. We pulled off the freeway and drove through the light display at the Willard Bay State Park. They also had some displays that we were able to get out and walk around. While there, I made use of the temporary faculties that had been made available.
'Note to self for future reference, carry some antiseptic wipes for use on the seat of the public port-a-potty. Second, if you have to use one of those during the winter, wait for one that a woman has just vacated. It may not sound fun or sanitary, but it will be warmer, brrr.'
The rest of the trip back home was uneventful. The other students seemed to be playing a game of musical chairs, the way they kept changing places. I didn't know what they were up to, but I was too tired to care. The process of healing such a large area had certainly taken its toll on me, if I wasn't moving I was tired. I was grateful for Mary Beth's assistance in getting ready for bed. I didn't even notice or care about her seeing me in just my pull up. There was no attempt at sleeping on my right side that night. After prayers and being greased, I assumed my usual sleeping position, left side of the bed, on my left side.
Mary Beth turned off the lights, except for the light in the bathroom, and crawled in behind me. I was barely awake as she kissed my cheek and whispered, "Goodnight my Munchkin,” before she backed away.
I felt a little sad until I realized she was sniffling. She wasn't snuggling close because of my back, not because she didn't want to.
'Some things are worth a little discomfort.'
I slowly worked my way backwards until I bumped into Mary Beth.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just preventing a little sadness on both our parts."
"What about your back? If I hug you, it's going to hurt in the morning."
"Don't hug too tight, just enough so I know you're there."
We slipped into a peaceful slumber, with her hand gently resting on my side.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 30
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Art thee Munchkin,
or art thee a little girl?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 30
By Penny Reed Cardon
December 24, 2004
As Mary Beth was starting on my first coat of cream for the day, I interrupted the process by starting a conversation, "MayBee? I've been thinking."
She stopped in mid-stroke on my left leg, pleading "You're not going to get us into trouble again, are you?"
"I keep telling you, I don't get into trouble-"
Mary Beth quickly interrupted me, as she resumed the application of the burn cream, "I know, I know! She follows you around, making a mess behind you, and you get blamed for everything she does."
"Exactly, but not this time. This time I'm going to do everything just right, talk with you first, then we'll go talk with Ellen: that way everything will work out and nobody will be visited by Ms. Trouble."
"Okay, okay, enough with the sugar coating, what were you thinking about?"
"I was thinking about Jane and the other kids at the hospital."
"And what about them?"
"Well, the other kids will probably have their families visiting, but Jane will be all alone, and not even have any presents to open."
"And just what do you plan to do about it?"
"I was thinking, if there's some material available. We could make some clothes for her teddy bear, maybe even a brother or sister bear."
"Not bad. How do you plan to get them delivered?"
"I haven't figured that part out yet."
"Well you can think about it while you're getting dressed, I'm finished with your back."
I continued lying on my bed, "You know, you're getting really good at giving a massage. I feel so good, kinda warm and tingly."
"Well, how about if you give me a massage sometime?"
"Sure thing. When and where, and should I use some cream or oil?"
"Neither, and I'm not taking my clothes off, ether!"
"Killjoy."
"Oh, hush up and get dressed."
"I thought you liked me in just a diaper?"
"No, I said you look cute in just a diaper, and you do. However, I don't think Ellen or anyone else, would think you were being cute if you ran around the school in just a diaper."
"You know, I think you’re right. Perhaps getting dressed would be a good idea," I kidded, as I disappeared into my closet.
"Good choice. By the way, how mad do you think Ellen is about us disappearing yesterday?" Mary Beth asked.
"I don't know. If Mom hadn't stepped in last night, my guess is we'd both be peeling potatoes for at least a week. Now that Ellen's had time to cool off, I just don't know."
"One thing’s for sure; we're going to be sitting in those wooden chairs."
"I don't know. With cooling off time we might get off easy," I replied, as I emerged from my closet. At least in my heart, I was praying for leniency.
Just before we left for our morning get together, in the year A lounge, I sent Ellen a note, requesting our visit with her be right after our breakfast. I was hoping she'd be in a good mood and we could talk about putting together a gift package for Jane.
When year A arrived in the cafeteria, late as usual, I noticed that Ellen was seated at one of the year C tables.
Moments after taking our seats, my PDA told me I had a new message. As I was putting the PDA away, Mary Beth leaned over and asked, "Was that from Ellen?"
"Yes. She's confirming our visit after breakfast," I replied.
"You're seeing Ellen again?" Hope asked.
"She's in trouble again," Mary Beth replied.
"I'm in trouble again?" I questioned. "If my memory is correct, there were two people being reprimanded outside the bus last night."
Sheepishly, Mary Beth corrected herself, "We're in trouble again."
"And we weren't even there to help you; get into trouble that is," Howard stated. "You two are awesome."
"Not to ruin our image, but we weren't trying to get into trouble," Mary Beth confessed.
"That's okay, every little bit helps," Howard chuckled.
"Helps what?" Malcolm Thornton asked, today's visiting psychiatrist.
"Helps maintain our reputation as the Black Sheep," Howard beamed.
"I'm really not sure that's a good thing," Malcolm professed.
"It's better than being referred to simply as year A."
"How do you mean."
"Well, as year A, we're just the next group of wiz kids, but as the Black Sheep, we're different. It sets us apart from everyone else, we are ... Unique."
Malcolm started laughing quietly, "Honestly, I'd never looked at it that way, and I don't think Mr. Peterson has either. I suppose we will have to re-evaluate some of our assessments."
"Trust me, Howard; 'After a time, you may find that having, is not always so pleasing a thing after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but often true'," I commented, adding to their discussion.
Mary Beth smiled and rubbed my shoulder. Everyone else looked at me as if they didn't know who I was. After a moment of being the center of attention, and the puzzled looks, I explained, "Wanting someone to think you're special may seem like a good thing, until they actually start to think you are special."
"Getting tired of being a celebrity?" Mary Beth whispered in my ear.
"That's an unusual analogy, Matilda. I wasn't aware that any school taught psychology to students your age," Malcolm commented.
"Amok Time," I replied.
"What?" Malcolm ask, somewhat perplexed.
Jenny giggled, explaining, "She is quoting Star Trek again."
"Oh," Malcolm expressed his understanding. Then he addressed Howard, "It's still something to think about, especially when one chooses the method in which one seeks to be considered unique."
Howard didn't have a reply. He shrugged his shoulders and went back to his breakfast; as did the rest of us.
"Come in," Ellen replied when we knocked on her office door. She must have gotten back to her office just a few minutes before we arrived.
"Welcome ladies, please be seated," she invited, as we entered. She also indicated we should sit in the chairs in front of her desk.
"I told you we'd get the chair," Mary Beth mumbled quietly.
"At least they don't have wires and leather straps," Ellen commented, with an evil smile.
Cautiously, we sat in the chairs indicated, facing Ellen's desk. We sat quietly, listening to the ticking of the clock, nervously waiting for Ellen to say something. It seemed like we'd been staring at each other for an hour, before Ellen broke the silence.
"Well now, would you like to explain why you two ran off without permission?"
Mary Beth and I slowly explained where we'd gone, who we'd talked with, what we learned about Jane and the other children in the hospital, and why we felt it was important. The whole time we were explaining things, Ellen sat back in her chair quietly listening.
Once we'd finished our story, Ellen continued to sit quietly, looking at the two of us. As for myself, I was getting nervous.
After what seemed like hours, Ellen stated, "You haven't answered my question. Why you two ran off without permission?"
Mary Beth and I looked at each other, dumfounded. I tried explaining why I felt our trip to pediatrics was important, when Ellen interrupted me.
"Matilda, I didn't ask you what you were doing. I asked why, you, of all the students here, knowing what you know … why you left the group without talking with one of the chaperones first? Why you felt it was acceptable to create a potential security breach, which could have possible endangered every one of the students at Immigration Manor?"
I was horrified as Ellen verbally slapped me from side to side. Totally deflated, I slumped in my seat, dropped my head to my hands, and stared at the floor for several hours. Okay, so it only seemed like several hours, but time appeared to stand still, as I contemplated what consequences my thoughtless actions may have caused.
Slowly I sat up. Looking at Mary Beth, I could see that she wasn't feeling any better about what we'd done, than I was. I held out my hand to my partner. She took my hand and we both took comfort in knowing we were there for each other.
With a heavy sigh, I looked at Ellen. Before I could speak, she asked, "To paraphrase TaPow, 'Art thee Munchkin, or art thee a little girl?"
I knew the reference, and I knew what Ellen was really asking. What I didn't know was how she knew I'd been quoting Amok Time, but that wasn't the time to be asking that type of question.
Sitting up straight, and as tall as I could, I was ready to face the consequences of my actions, as I proudly proclaimed, "I am Munchkin, Ellen. It was my idea, and I take full responsibility for our leaving the group without permission. I didn't think -"
"That's right, Matilda! You didn't think," Ellen interrupted. "That's something I’ve noticed about you, Matilda. I believe acting without thinking is one of your biggest faults. We'll have to work on that while you're with us. As for taking responsibility for Mary Beth's actions, you can only do that if she is not mentally able to act on her own. Being that that is not the case, Mary Beth must take responsibility for her own actions."
Somewhat deflated, and encouraged by Ellen's statement, I gave Mary Beth's hand a squeeze, "I tried."
"It’s okay. She's right, I could have said no."
"Say no, to one of my brilliantly scathing ideas?"
"Well, it is possible."
"All right you two, that's enough," Ellen exclaimed. "The matter we need to discuss is what form of disciplinary action is appropriate. When I was your age, if I'd disappeared during a school fieldtrip, the principal would have been within his rights to lay me across his knee and give me a sound spanking, with nothing but my under garments to provide me protection from the sting of his hand, after which, I would be given a letter to take home, explaining to my parents, why I'd been spanked by the principal. More than likely, my father would have repeated the previous disciplinary action without the benefit of protection."
Mary Beth and I sat quietly, both in shock at the prospect of being spanked by Mr. Peterson. Timidly I asked, "They don't spank the students here, do they?"
"Merciful heavens no! By today's standards, such discipline would be considered abusive, not to mention that I'd hang anyone I caught abusing my childre - um, the students." Ellen paused for a moment after what almost appeared to be a slip of the tongue. "But I'll tell you this, children back then, learned very quickly what was acceptable and what was not.
“Now, as for what to do with you two; what you did was very serious and could have had catastrophe consequences. Not the type of actions one would have expected from adults, or our two youngest adults. In fact, I would consider such irresponsible actions ... almost childish."
"You don't mean?" I asked.
"From now until New Year's eve," Ellen stated dryly.
"Not the pink toddler dresses?" Mary Beth gasped.
Ellen was silent for several seconds, as the prospect of being dressed as toddlers slowly etched its way into our minds.
"Did I say anything about pink dresses?" Ellen finally asked.
"No - but you said what we did was childish, and when two of the students from year C pulled a childish prank, they were put into the pink dresses," I blurted hastily.
Ellen quickly replied, "You are correct on two out of three points you made. First, the prank that Ruthanne and Michelle engaged in, was without a doubt, childish. Second, they were required to wear frilly pink dresses for three days. Your third point was incorrect. I did not say your actions were childish. I said your actions were almost childish, and it's that almost, that is your reprieve. As it turned out, even though your actions were thoughtless, your intentions were honorable. It is simply the act of not asking permission, that was in error, and it is for your disappearance that you will receive disciplinary action. From now until New Years Eve, you two are under what we call ‘house arrest’. Hopefully, a week of asking permission, to move about the school will reminded you to ask permission, when you're away from the school."
So far, I'd said and assumed all the wrong things. I knew I was confused by what Ellen had just said, but I didn't want to make things worse by saying the wrong thing. I looked at Mary Beth, hoping to see some sign that she understood. To my great disappointment, she appeared to be more confused than I was.
Reluctantly I asked, "House arrest?" Ellen nodded, as I continued. "We have to do what, exactly?"
Ellen replied slowly and with clarity, "From now until midnight, on New Years Eve, you are to send me a message, via your PDA's, requesting permission, any time you wish to move about the school. The only exception will be, moving about between your rooms. Other than that, you must ask permission to move from room, to room or building to building."
After processing the rules we were to live by for a few moments, I had a question, "Are we each to send a request?"
"If you are together and will be going to the same destination, only one request will be necessary. Indicate that the request is for both of you and trade off who sends the request. If you're separated, then of course, you will each need to send me your request," Ellen clarified.
"Oh well, I guess that's not so bad," I relented.
"Not so bad?" Mary Beth asked rhetorically. "Speak for yourself. I haven't been so restricted since I was five. I thought you said that after Ellen knew why we went upstairs and had a night to think about it, she'd go easy on us."
Obviously, Mary Beth's last statement was directed at me, however Ellen answered, "I am taking it easy on you. Last night I would have made it a week in the pink dresses."
"That's okay! A week of house arrest is more than enough time to think about what we did wrong. Thank you for your kindness and understanding," I quickly agreed with Ellen's choice of discipline, tugging on Mary Beth's arm so she wouldn't say something silly and make matters worse. Little did I know that my un-harnessed tongue had already made things worse.
"And!" Ellen stated.
"And?" Mary Beth questioned.
"And, because it looks like Matilda thinks this isn't too bad, I'm adding two days kitchen duty; the twenty-sixth and the thirty-first."
"WHAT?" Mary Beth cried out, as she almost twisted my arm off. I suppose she wanted to make sure I wouldn't be saying anything.
"Two days isn't enough?" Ellen calmly asked.
"Two days is very reasonable, thank you," I quickly replied.
"You're quite welcome," Ellen added. "Now if there's nothing else."
Mary Beth got up and started for the door, almost dragging me out of my chair. When I didn't 'come quietly' she stopped and glared at me.
"Is there something else, Matilda?" Ellen asked.
"Well ... I was just wondering if there was something we could do for Jane and the other children at the Logan hospital," I meekly replied.
Sitting forward, Ellen asked, "What did you have in mind?"
"Umm, I was thinking that Jane's teddy bear could use some clothes and maybe a friend; assuming there is some material and stuffing left over. As for the other children, I don't know; I guess whatever toys we have the supplies available to make would be good. Of course, then somehow we have to get everything there," I was kind of rambling at this point.
"Matilda, you're amazing. I was five minutes away from calling in the mobile security detachment because you were missing. You could have caused the closure of this school. You've earned yourself and your study partner a week’s discipline, and still you are thinking about the welfare of others. What do you have to say for yourself?"
I smiled timidly, as I replied, "It's a flaw in my character."
"A flaw in your character," Ellen repeated, shaking her head. "Matilda, I wish there were more people in this world with such a flaw. I will say this for you, this time you're a little slow."
"What do you mean?"
"Yes, slow. The rest of your caroling group asked and were granted permission to make more toys last night."
"You knew about this last night, and you didn't say anything?" Mary Beth asked.
"They say confession is good for the soul," Ellen replied simply.
"I'm not so sure I agree," Mary Beth complained.
"Ellen, can Mary Beth and I help with the toys?" I asked.
"I have no objections. I'm pretty sure the others will appreciate your help and enjoy your company. They are working in building C, room 312."
"Ellen, how will the toys get to the hospital?" Mary Beth asked
"It just so happens that I will be leaving shortly after noon. Traditionally, I spend Christmas day with my brother and his family, in southern Idaho. On the twenty-sixth, I will be going on to Boise to spend some time helping a very troubled young man. I'll be dropping the gifts at the hospital on my way."
"Ellen ... Is there anyway Mary Beth and I could -"
"Matilda! Don't even think about it!" Ellen cut me off in mid question. "You're lucky you aren't under a computer restriction, along with everything else."
"Yes Ellen," I timidly replied.
As we were about to open the door, I remembered a little piece of information.
"Ellen, isn't Boise where-" I didn’t finish my question.
"Yes?"
"Never mind, it's not important," I conceded.
Mary Beth was about to open the door, when Ellen interrupted our thoughts, and actions.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Ellen asked, as she held up her PDA.
Smiling, I pulled out my PDA. Quickly, typing a short note, requesting permission for Mary Beth and myself to journey to building C, room 312. Also, requesting permission to make a pit stop in the restroom on the first floor of building C, while in route.
A moment later, Ellen's PDA beeped with the incoming message. She casually picked it up again. Scanning the message, she made a few key strokes and my PDA beeped.
>> Permission granted. <<
"What took you two so long?" Susanne asked, as we entered room 312.
"We didn't know you guys were throwing a party," Mary Beth jokingly answered.
"What do you mean, didn't know about it?" Russell asked. "It's because of what you learned at the hospital that we asked Ellen if we could make some more toys."
"And it's because of how we came by that information that we had an early meeting with Ellen. So, how can we help?" I added.
Roberta, being the oldest, had the job of organizer thrust upon her. She quickly assigned Mary Beth and me the job of stuffers. There were three bears and two dolls waiting to be stuffed, when we sat down. The bears were fairly easy to stuff; the dolls took more time to get the stuffing just right. After all, who wants a doll with lumpy arms and legs?
"So it's true, you two are in trouble again?" Shawana asked, as we started stuffing.
"Are you kidding, did you see the way Ellen was chewing them out when they came out of the hospital, last night?" Crystal asked.
"So what happened?" asked Cory.
"We're under house arrest," Mary Beth answered glumly.
"Ouch, that's no fun," Roberta commented.
"What's house arrest?” Shawana wanted to know.
“Normally, someone under house arrest would have an electronic device attached to their ankle; the police would be alerted if they left their house,” Marshal started.
Roberta continued. “Because we can’t leave the school grounds anyway, they came up with something a little different. You have to send a request to one of the counselors, any time you want to move around the school.”
“That doesn’t sound so horrible,” Cory stated. “I mean, sending a note to tell someone where you are going, doesn’t sound so tuff.”
“Oh no, it’s not informing someone where you’re going. You are asking permission, and you have to wait until permission is given, before you can go where you want to go,” Marshal corrected.
“Anywhere you need to go?” Shawana asked.
“That’s right,” Roberta confirmed. “Anywhere and everywhere, and if you forget to ask first, or don’t go where you had permission to go; then you’re really in trouble.”
“What do you mean?” Mary Beth asked.
I’ve heard ghost stories before and I’ve never been scared by them, but after Marshal’s story, I was just a bit nervous. “Two years ago Tommy, from year D, was placed under house arrest; I guess he was year B then. Anyway, he thought it was a joke and skipped asking permission a couple of times. I don’t know how they knew he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, but they knew. The next thing we knew, Tommy had kitchen duty, for two weeks. One week for each time he’d skipped asking permission. To this day Tommy can’t eat potatoes without looking like he’s going to be sick.”
Before Marshal finished telling us about Tommy, I had my PDA out and was franticly trying to learn something new. Because I knew how they would know where we were, I wasn’t taking any chances.
Mary Beth looked over and read what was on my screen. “We stopped in the restroom on our way here. Why are you requesting permission to go again?” she whispered.
“I’m trying to set this up to automatically send this message ten minutes before my alarm goes off. We’ve already got two days kitchen duty I have no intention of making it a week or more,” I whispered back.
“Good thinking. While you’re at it, why don’t you set up some standard requests that will only take a couple of keystrokes to send? That’ll save us some typing time.”
“Good idea, MayBee. Once I get it figured out I’ll copy the messages and commands to your PDA.”
“You can do that?” she asked.
I paused and looked at her. I’m sure I had a silly grin on my face.
“Okay, forget that I asked that question, but is that going to take very long? We have some stuffing to do.” Mary Beth shook her head as she went back to stuffing a bear.
While I was busy learning how to do something new. A teddy bear and half a doll later, I was finished, and happily got back to work on the doll I’d started.
Once all the gifts were assembled, wrapped, and Mary Beth and I had received permission to go along, the whole group carried everything out to Ellen's car. As everything was being loaded, I motioned for Ellen to step aside so I could ask her a question.
"Ellen?" I started to ask.
Ellen interrupted me, saying, "Matilda, I told you before that you are not coming with me."
"Oh, no, that's not what I wanted to ask. With you away, to whom should we send our requests; you know, to move around the school to?" I quiet asked.
“Sorry, that is a valid question. Let’s see … I guess there aren’t many choices. Who knows you’re being disciplined and is going to be here? I guess you’re stuck with Mr. Peterson,” Ellen finally concluded.
“Terrific,” I moaned.
“Is there a problem I should know about?” Ellen asked, with genuine concern.
“No, not a real problem I guess. Let’s just say he isn’t one of my favorite people right now,” I timidly admitted, while lightly patting my padded bottom.
“I understand,” Ellen admitted. “We’ll talk about that after I get back, all right?”
I nodded and we went back to the others, who had finished packing Ellen’s car while we were talking. We all wished her a safe journey, just as another snowstorm started to lightly throw snowflakes around.
December 25, 2004
Christmas day didn't go quite as we'd expected, not bad, just not as expected; but then I’m not sure what we expected. After all this was our first Christmas away from our real families.
Everyone had worn their charm bracelets that morning, although without any charms they all looked like just gold or silver chains. Before going to breakfast, everyone exchanged the small gifts of affection which we'd selected for our study partners. There were several sets of small pliers available so the charms could be attached.
Breakfast was quieter than usual. There were no announcements, and very few conversations going on, at least at the two year A tables. I didn't know what was on the minds of my fellow classmates. As for me, I was thinking of my family and of Christmases gone by. I was pretty sure that Mary Beth was thinking about similar events as she kept wiping her eyes with her napkin. It didn't seem like the others were as upset as Mary Beth, but then they didn't know what we knew. There were times I wished I didn't know some of what I knew.
Breakfast consumed, it being a Saturday, we accompanied the rest of the year back to the lounge, after sending and receiving the obligatory request for permission. While there, my PDA started vibrating. Yes, it was my bathroom reminder and a message from Mr. Peterson. It seems the restroom adjacent to the year lounge has the same exemption as the facilities joining our bedrooms, no permission needed. 'Oh well, better safe than sorry.'
Being Christmas day, Mary Beth and I dressed a little nicer than usual. Of course, being dressed differently than the rest of the year, brought about a bit more heckling than normal. Actually, the heckling comes in cycles, so I wasn't exactly sure what normal heckling was.
Rachael received her big Christmas gift from Dr. Harris a day early. She was overjoyed to be given her arms back. That is, they removed the casts from her arms. She was so happy, it was like she was a different person. In fact, she was so happy about being able to brush her own hair and teeth, she almost didn't tease me about how I was dressed, being the most girly of the three and dressing with a bit more frillies. After all, what are little sisters for?
Around noon, we received a note from Mr. Roberts recommending we go to bed at 8:00pm. When we replied asking why so early, we were reminded that we were scheduled to be in the kitchen at 5:00am.
There was no choir practice. It was Christmas day after all, but at seven that evening, there was a Christmas play being presented by one of the other church groups. For the lack of anything better to do, all the students and most of the staff, were in attendance. The play was followed by Mrs. T inviting the different caroling groups on stage, to sing a carol or two.
After several groups had performed for those assembled, Mrs. T did something I would not have guessed, or in my worst nightmare ever imagined.
"Before I ask another group to the stage," Mrs. T started. "I'd like two girls to come up and perform a duet for you, although it might not be the kind of duet you are expecting. Both have exceptional musical gifts, although one of the girls has been hiding her talents. I'd like everyone to welcome Mary Beth to the stage." Almost everyone started clapping as Mary Beth stood up. "And her study partner Matilda." The auditorium suddenly went silent, as I tried to disappear into the seats.
"Come now Matilda, don't be shy."
I stayed in my seat, refusing to move.
"Do we need a little encouragement?" Mrs. T asked rhetorically. "Very well, who would like to hear Matilda perform?"
I don't know who she paid off, but quite a few started to applaud. I looked around and saw that those who were clapping were from our caroling group.
Mary Beth came back to where I was sitting. Smiling, she held out her hand to me. It took me a few moments to remember one little detail, I was at Immigration Manor. I didn't know what Mrs. T had up her sleeve, but she wasn't planning to humiliate or embarrass me. Still somewhat reluctant, I took Mary Beth's hand and slowly stood up.
There was obviously mixed feelings as we went up the steps to the stage; as evidenced by the mixture of sounds from the audience. Not to mention the rubbery feeling in my knees.
As we stopped in front of Mrs. T, I timidly asked, "You really want me to sing?"
"But of course, Matilda, you sing beautifully," Mrs. T replied, causing both Mary Beth and me to look at each other in bewilderment. "Don't forget, I heard you singing the other night. Where most people sing with their voices, you sing with your hands."
Looking off stage, Mrs. T called for Darryl, who came out from behind a curtain pushing a cart with a glockenspiel. I smiled as I realized what Mrs. T meant by singing with my hands.
"Have fun, Munchkin," Darryl said, as he left the glockenspiel for me.
Mary Beth and I turned towards Mrs. T, and I asked, "What did you have in mind?"
"I wasn't there to hear her, but I'm told that Mary Beth did a beautiful rendition of ‘Silent Night’ in a restaurant in Nebraska. I know you play that carol exceptionally well. After that, I thought we'd have the rest of your group come up and all of you do ‘Carol of the Bells’."
We agreed and Mrs. T left the two of us on center stage. I remembered how slow a tempo Mary Beth had used to sing ‘Silent Night’ and gently tapped a mallet on the glockenspiel case. A nod from Mary Beth told me I had the tempo right and I started the intro.
There was an uncomfortable pause as we finished. I almost thought we'd put everyone to sleep; that is until I heard someone way in the back start clapping. Not the normal applause, where everyone claps their hands together quickly. This was slow clapping, about once per second, and it had an almost authoritative sound to it, if that's possible. The clapping spread quickly throughout the auditorium, everyone synchronizing together. What's more, everyone was standing up.
I couldn't believe it, Mary Beth and I were receiving a standing ovation. That was the first and only standing ovation that evening. I wasn't sure of the meaning for the synchronized applause, but it must have some significance, something to research later.
It seemed like Mary Beth and I had been standing there for hours, though I'm sure it was only a few seconds, before Mrs. T came back over, to join us.
"Thank you, Mary Beth. It seems the report I received about your performance in Nebraska was understated. Matilda, you have certainly found your musical calling." There was another round of applause, the normal kind.
When the applause died down, Mrs. T invited the rest of our caroling group to join us. The applause after ‘Carol of the Bells’ was pretty much normal.
Several other groups were called up, but we were the only duet. That is, if you wanted to call what we did as a duet. Personally, I'd call what we did, a solo with accompaniment.
So much for getting to bed by eight o’clock, it was much later than that by the time we got to bed. We just hoped there would be some time for a nap sometime tomorrow.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 31
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
A year of kindness and understanding,
a year of brutality and pain.
A year of adventure and surprises,
a year of terror,
and a year ... of love.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 31
By Penny Reed Cardon
December 26, 2004
Nobody should have to get out of bed at 4:00am. Being forced to leave the comfort of a warm cozy bed that early in the morning, should be considered cruel and unusual punishment.
I didn't even know potatoes came in hundred pound bags. At least, I'd never seen anything that size when I'd been out shopping with mom. A hundred pounds? That's more than I weighed for goodness sakes, but that's what we were set to work on, a hundred pound bag each. After we'd finished the first two hundred pound bags, Mr. Roberts and another man brought out another bag to be split between the two of us, three-hundred pounds in all.
Having had a taste of peeling a hundred and fifty pounds of potatoes in one day, we both knew we didn't want to do this for a week. For the rest of the week, we were very careful about asking permission, to move about the school.
With church services later that morning, and not wanting to mess up our good dresses; Mary Beth and I had dressed down for our first adventure as kitchen helpers; if you call a polo shirt and good slacks dressing down. Of course, since there was nothing in our closets that Mom would have called 'grubbies' or 'play clothes', we decided we’d just have to suffer with looking nice all the time.
After a quick change we caught up with the rest of the Black Sheep as they were on their way to breakfast. After breakfast, we went over to see Rachael before going back to the cafeteria building for the regular Sunday morning church service. Being that it was the day after Christmas, there was a special emphasis on the meeting.
The rest of the day was pretty much your typical Sunday at Immigration Manor. The boys were hogging the big TV, in the lounge, to watch the recent gladiatorial games, otherwise known as American Football. Meanwhile, the girls congregated on the other side of the lounge, where any number of subjects were being discussed; sometimes including the apparent need of resorting to a prehistoric, caveman vocabulary when watching the gladiatorial games. Naturally, some of the boys didn't watch the games, and some of the girls did. All in all I guess it was almost an even mix.
After dinner, Mary Beth and I were again at the mercy of the kitchen staff. We were again put into large aprons again, even though we’d changed back into the shirts and slacks from earlier, only this time heavy rubber gloves were added. Instead of peeling potatoes, we were taught how to load large plastic trays with dirty dishes. The filled trays were pushed onto a conveyor belt which took the trays into the biggest dish washing machine I'd ever seen. It was about thirty feet long, polished metal, with clouds of steam belching out of both ends, although mostly the steam was coming out of the other end. As messy as it was, handling the dirty dishes, I was glad that we were feeding the dishes in and not having to deal with the steam and the hot dishes coming out. Truth be told, I preferred dishes to potatoes.
Beca and Lizy were waiting for us to be released by our taskmasters.
"Hi there, have fun this evening?" Beca teasing asked.
"Could have been worse," I replied with a shrug.
"What do you mean 'it could have been worse’? My feet are killing me," Mary Beth complained.
"My feet hurt too, but at least we weren't dealing with the hot dishes and the steam at the other end," I offered.
"I guess you're right about that," Mary Beth conceded.
"If you want to stay away from the heat, you'd better behave yourselves from now on," Lizy warned us.
"Lizy, it sounds like you're speaking from first-hand knowledge?" I questioned.
Lizy appeared to be shocked that I would even suggest such a thing, "Me, working in the kitchen? Never! Well, only as part of a cooking class. Beca on the other hand-"
"You don't have to blab," Beca interrupted, appearing to be upset.
I slid my hand into Beca's, looking up I gave her, what I thought was, my best sad puppy dog eyes and asked, "Was my big sister a bad girl?"
Beca pulled her hand away before saying, "Forget it! I'm not telling you anything, so you can put away your sad eyes, Miss Potato Head."
"Miss Potato Head! Don't I look like a sad puppy dog?" I asked.
Beca looked down and with an evil grin said simply, "Work on it."
"So, why were you here to meet us?" Mary Beth asked.
"Oh, we were just in the neighborhood and thought we'd check up on you," Lizy started.
"We were wondering how you were dealing with your week of punishment," Beca added.
"You know about that?" Mary Beth wondered aloud.
"But of course," Lizy confirmed.
"Let's see, what was the line?" Beca started, thinking for a moment she tried to use a different voice, as she continued. "What happened in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell, is a complete secret. So naturally, the whole school knows."
"Oh, that's just great," I bemoaned.
"Of course it is," Lizy stated cheerfully. "Haven't you had other students and maybe some of the staff remind you to send your request?"
"Now that you mention it-" I started.
"That's because everyone here cares about each other. Nobody likes to see someone else being disciplined, but we'll all help out if we can," Beca explained.
"Which reminds me, are you going back to the year A lounge, or were you planning to go straight to choir practice from here?" Lizy asked.
"Well, we were talking about just going to choir practice. That's before we ran into you two," I confessed.
"Have you sent your request yet?" Beca questioned.
"It's my turn, and I was about to, then we all started talking," Mary Beth admitted as she got out her PDA.
It was only a few moments before we received permission to move from the cafeteria to the auditorium, along with a stop at the restroom on the main floor of the administration building. Then the four of us started a leisurely stroll, chatting along the way about nothing in particular. As we were about to part company, my curiosity was piqued by something Lizy had said.
"Beca, you haven't told us why you and Lizy just happened to be in the cafeteria when we finished with the dishes," I stated, trying to get a little more information.
"Yes, we did," Lizy countered.
"We hadn't seen you for a while and we were wondering how you were doing," Beca added.
"You hadn't seen us for a while?" Mary Beth repeated Beca's statement as a question.
"True, it has been such a long time since yesterday’s Christmas concert," I added.
"You were wondering how we were doing?" Mary Beth continued.
"And-" Beca tried to say, but I interrupted her.
"And?" I asked, almost demanding.
"And we were wondering what you were planning to wear to the New Years Eve ball?" Lizy quickly blurted out.
"New Years Eve ball?" Mary Beth repeated.
"What New Years Eve ball?" I questioned.
"The - New Years Eve ball!" Beca replied.
"It's a tradition here, one of the few nights of the year that everyone’s curfew is lifted," Lizy informed us.
"We hadn't been told about a ball," Mary Beth beat me to the obvious reply.
"That's why we're talking to you. To tell you about the ball and about an unofficial tradition," Lizy continued.
"And what would that tradition be?" I suspiciously asked.
Beca jumped in here, to ease my suspicions, "Relax Munchkin. It's just that most of the students in year A don't usually bond with each other until near the end of their first year or into their second."
"You two seen to be the exception, to almost everything," Lizy teasingly added.
"So here’s the deal. Unofficially, someone from one of the older years will act as escorts for year A students to the New Years Eve ball, not separating the study partners from each other, it's more like double-dating," Beca explained.
"So, we were wondering if you two would like to go to the ball with us?" Lizy asked, somewhat formally.
Mary Beth and I stepped aside and quietly discussed the invitation. Beca and Lizy both seemed sincere, although I was a little skeptical; Beca is known as a joker. Nevertheless, we decided to accept their invitation.
I let Mary Beth, being older by a few months, speak for us. She wasn't quite as eloquent as I would have been, but her very formal acceptance was enjoyable to witness. Not having been informed of the ball sooner, we had no idea what we wanted to wear. Beca offered to take care of the arrangements for our gowns and we accepted her offer.
December 27, 2004
It was Monday morning, and the first day since we had arrived at the Manor, that Mary Beth and I were to attend classes with the rest of our classmates and learning what our new routine would be like. I know it sounds crazy, but in the three months we'd been here, nothing had been routine.
I found the new style of education an enjoyable experience. Mary Beth was certain that her brain would explode, because she was concentrating on one subject for an hour and a half, and then jumping to a different subject for the next hour and a half. Up until now, school life had been about half an hour on each subject; with a morning and afternoon recess thrown into the mix. Once a week, they'd add some art or music, when they could arrange for some volunteers to come in and help out.
'To me, recess and lunchtime at Whittier had provided a different kind of education. It was something between counter espionage, in which hiding and stealth were your best weapons, and being one of the slaves from "The Temple of Doom", trapped in a world of pain and torment.'
The daily and weekly schedule was really quite simple to understand; two - ninety minute class periods in the morning and a thirty minute break before lunch. 'Ninety minute classes worked out perfect for me, I just matched my restroom schedule to the class schedule.' The afternoon schedule was one ninety minute class followed by a sixty minute class, and then sixty minutes of what they called study hall just before dinner. Study hall wasn't any given place or room, just some time to work on our ‘out of class’ assignments. Also, during the study hall time the teachers you had that day would be in their classrooms, to answer any questions you might have. I assured Mary Beth, that she would survive the new schedule and everything would be fine. Of course, I assured her that I'd help her with the homework.
Monday's classes were repeated on Wednesday, and Tuesday's classes were repeated on Thursday. Friday was set aside for specialty training and group activities. Of course, the Black Sheep had continued their Saturday morning group swimming, even though I hadn’t been able to join them while I was Sally. Now that I was back to my normal - abnormal - self, the Black Sheep were complete and we were once again the terror of the skies. Just kidding, we didn't terrorize anyone. Still it's probably a good thing that they didn't have anything at the school that was capable of flight.
Naturally, we still had choir practice on Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Add to that, I now had orchestra practice on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. The orchestra also practiced Friday evenings, just before choir practice.
Looking at the weekly schedule on the computer, it looks like we never had time to ourselves and that the daily life at the Manor was going to be boring. Nothing could be further from the truth. The teachers made each class enjoyable and there was always lots of interaction.
My appointment with Dr. Harris was postponed until the third of January, so I was still being greased twice each day; at least I wasn't going to squeak. Early in the week, my back started to itch. By the end of the week, the itching was driving me crazy and making concentrating in class difficult.
The evening of the thirtieth, we were again sent a message from Mr. Roberts recommending that we retire early so we'd be ready for our second day of service in the kitchen. That night we did manage to get a full night’s sleep, which was a good thing, because, as it turned out, there was no time for napping the next day.
December 31, 2004
'I still say that making someone get out of a warm bed at four o'clock in the morning should be considered cruel and unusual punishment.'
When we arrived in the kitchen, they had us start by peeling potatoes, no big surprise there, we thought. However, there were two surprises for us; first, there were five hundred pounds of potatoes to peel. The second surprise was that we had some help, Emily from year E and Ty from year H. During our conversation, around the garbage can, we learned that Emily and Ty weren't being punished for anything. They were there as part of a class in culinary arts, and would be assisting with breakfast. Surprisingly, the four of us finished the potatoes sooner than I expected.
Mary Beth and I were taking off our aprons, when Mr. Roberts stopped us. "Wait, stop, where do you think you're going?"
"Umm, back to our rooms," Mary Beth said, but it sounded more like a question.
"Oh no, not today. I know it’s Friday, but it's also New Years Eve, so you don't have classes today. That means today, you're all mine. We've got to prepare more food than normal. It'll be nice to have some extra help in the kitchen. Have either of you done any cooking before?"
"Why isn't today a normal day?" I timidly asked.
"It’s New Years Eve! Haven't you noticed that on holidays we don't fix your everyday routine meals?" Mr. Roberts asked.
"I noticed that the food was different on Thanksgiving, but that was just because of Thanksgiving, wasn't it?" Mary Beth asked rhetorically.
"We didn't realize that you did things different for every holiday," I added.
"Well, now you know. Each holiday we prepare food from a different culture. Today’s meals will be prepared using authentic German recipes. That is, the normal meals. Tonight's New Years Eve banquet will be grab and run food from all around the world," Mr. Roberts explained. "Any questions?"
I looked at Mary Beth, she looked puzzled and asked, "Grab and run?"
Looking back at Mr. Roberts, he explained, "But of course, we don't want to slow down the dance party with a sit down meal. Everything will be light snack food that you can grab and eat on the run, or in mid swing." He held out his arms and made like he was dancing.
We both giggled at his prehistoric dance steps. Smiling, I asked, "How can we help?"
"Now that's what I like to hear, willing victims. Let's start by changing those dirty aprons and thoroughly washing your hands. We don't want the dirt from the potatoes getting into breakfast, now do we? Once you've changed and washed, we'll pair each of you up with one of the regular cooks. You'll be their helper for the day."
After a quick trip to the restroom, washing my hands twice, and donning a fresh apron, I was assigned to a Mrs. Chugg, an older woman, about five feet tall, short gray hair, and a very friendly smile. Mary Beth was assigned to assist a younger woman for the day.
For breakfast, Mrs. Chugg taught me to make potato pancakes; she even let me cook them, as the other students requested them. After all of year A was served, last as usual, Mary Beth and I were allowed to get our breakfast and go eat with them.
As soon as the upper years had been served breakfast and we had everything cleaned, we changed aprons again and started preparations for lunch. Mrs. Chugg taught me how to run a sausage grinder, and then she started chopping up a whole pig. Well, there was enough meat there that it could have been a small pig.
Once Mrs. Chugg filled a large bowl with cubes of pork, she add a bunch of spices. Then it was time for me to get to work. I had to mix the spices in by hand, so all the pork was coated evenly. After she was satisfied that I was doing a good job, she went back to cubing pork, filling another large bowl while I started grinding and filling sausage casings.
'It's a good thing they got me some long rubber gloves. That would've been really gross, otherwise.'
Between the two of us, we made about two hundred bratwurst. We had to hurry, because the brats had to simmer for an hour before they would be ready for grilling. The brats were served with grilled red onions, grilled sweet peppers, seasoned and baked potato wedges, and sauerkraut, if wanted.
Between lunch and dinner, Mrs. Chugg and I made a big batch of bread dough and set it aside to rise. I'd never made bread before, and found the experience to be a lot of fun. At least kneading the bread dough wasn't as gross as mixing the spices into the raw pork, because they had a big mixing machine to do the job. When I asked why we didn't use the mixer for the pork, she told me it would have pulverized the pork, making the texture all wrong for the brats, okay for hotdogs, not for brats.
Once the bread dough was set aside to rise, we started working on our dinner assignment, German Red Cabbage. I’m not sure why they called it red cabbage, the cabbage was purple. Anyway, we started off by chopping up six heads of this purple cabbage.
I can’t believe that someone was crazy enough to put a huge knife in my hands. That thing was as long as my forearm and almost as thick. Don’t they know with everything I’d been through, I could be a psychotic killer. Of course, Dad’s wasn’t there and neither was Black Bart, unless they were hiding them in one of the underground areas that I’m not supposed to know about, so I guess everyone at the Manor was safe.
While I was chopping the cabbage, Mrs. Chugg dug out some really funny looking black pots with three short legs. It a good thing she moving the pots, because I tried lifting one and barely managed to lift it a couple of inches off the floor. I was told they were made of cast iron and were called Dutch Ovens.
The Dutch Ovens were set on the gas stove, which was set for a medium flame. As the Dutch Ovens were heating up we put in some butter. When the butter was melted we put in the cabbage, some sliced onion, some sliced apples, sugar, vinegar, and water. As all that was starting to cook we put a bunch of other spices into something called cheesecloth, which we tied into pouches. One spice pouche were put into each the pots, along with the cabbage and then left to cook for just over an hour, stirring ever so often.
Mary Beth had been helping make some Kartoffelkrapfen, which I had to have someone spell for me. They were the little croquette things made of potato and they were cooked in a deep fat fryer. The red cabbage, the Kartoffelkrapfen, and smoked ham or turkey made for a very tasty dinner. Although most of the Black sheep were hesitant to try the red cabbage, the students form the older years seemed to enjoy it.
After the dinner rush was over, and everything was cleaned up and put away, everyone started on the grab and run food for the New Years Eve buffet. Mrs. Chugg and I were assigned to bake some mini hoagie buns and make some mini pigs in a blanket.
'So, that’s why we made the bread dough before dinner.'
While the bread dough was rising for the second time, we opened a dozen packages of finger sausages and put them in a large pot of water to boil. Mrs. Chugg told me that by boiling the sausages first, most of the fat would come out in the water, instead of into the bread while they're baking. After the sausages had boiled for about twenty minutes, we drained the water off and put them on some large cookie sheets, to cool in the fridge.
'Don't want to burn our fingers working with hot finger sausages.'
I was shown how to grease and flour the pans that the mini hoagie buns would be baked on. While I was doing the pans, Mrs. Chugg was rolling out the bread dough and making little bread logs, about four inches long. After I had all the pans ready, I started loading the bread logs onto the pans, spaced per Mrs. Chugg's direction. Two hundred logs later, everything went into the big oven.
We took a little break, before we started rolling out the rest of the bread dough into thin narrow strips. The strips were wrapped around the finger sausages. After all the sausages were wrapped, they went into the oven, with the hoagie buns. Less bread dough - less baking time.
At last, everything for the New Year’s party was ready, and Mr. Roberts called everyone together. "Congratulations everyone and thank you for all your hard work today. Somehow we managed to prepare three fabulous meals, put together a scrumptious New Years Eve buffet, and all in record time. I also want to thank our two young helpers. It isn't often we are privileged with two indentured servants who are; one, so willing to do whatever is asked. And two, do so without complaining or grumbling. Mary Beth, Matilda, we would like to express our compliments and our thanks. You two are welcome in our kitchen any time, and you don't have to get into trouble to come and visit us."
Everyone, except Mary Beth and I, started clapping; not for long, just long enough to be slightly embarrassing, before Mr. Roberts continued.
"Very well, I'm told there are some volunteers from year G on their way over, they will take everything over to the ballroom and arrange the tables. So it appears we have a free evening. Thanks again everyone, and Happy New Year."
"What did you do now?" Beca asked me from behind, startling me.
"Where did you come from, and how long have you been standing there?" I asked, as I climbed down from the worktable I'd been standing next to.
"We've been here long enough to know that you've been showing off again," Lizy answered.
"So what did you two do? I've never heard of Mr. Roberts complimenting any of the forced labor before," Beca added.
"I don't know," Mary Beth started.
"We did whatever they asked us to do," I added.
"We said please and thank you," Mary Beth continued.
"And we smiled all the time and were a little bit silly ..."
"… which made everyone else smile," Mary Beth concluded.
"Oh sure, whatever," Lizy mumbled.
"Be nice, Lizy. Now then, are you two ready to go to your first New Years Eve ball, or have you been working so hard, that you need a shower before the ball?"
I looked at Mary Beth and she looked at me. I giggled as she wrinkled her nose and pulled a, ‘something smells bad’, face. "Shower first, definitely a shower first," I replied.
As we were leaving the kitchen, I noticed Beca and Lizy each pick up a couple of large cloth bags, with the hooks of hangers poking out one end. "What's in the bags?" Mary Beth asked, beating me to question.
"Clean dresses," Lizy started.
"We figured if you didn't want to shower, you'd at least want to change into clean dresses …" Beca continued.
"… but, being that you want to shower, you can change in your rooms rather than in a restroom stall," Lizy added.
"Thank you, that's really nice of you," I offered.
"Probably something in pink, with lots of frillies," Mary Beth teased.
"More like white fuzzies," Lizy snickered.
"White fuzzies?" I inquired.
"Never mind, let's get moving. We don't want to miss the party," Beca said, encouraging us to move faster.
Lizy took Mary Beth into her room. Beca told me, while I was in the shower, she would get my clothes ready for me. I grabbed a fresh pull-up and disappeared into my bathroom.
I could tell my back was getting better, because the almost warm water didn't hurt any more. The water felt good and helped kill the itching, so I stayed in the shower a little longer than usual. I heard Mary Beth complaining about something, as I was toweling dry. Slipping on my robe, I left my bathroom. "What's going on in here?" I asked.
"Have you seen what they want us to wear to the party?" Mary Beth demanded loudly. She was wearing her robe as well.
"Not yet, why?"
"Well, take a good look," Mary Beth almost screamed, grabbing a frilly white blouse off my bed.
Lizy was giggling; Beca was trying to keep a serious expression, but seemed to be losing the battle.
"That blouse doesn't look too bad," I told Mary Beth.
"You're right, it wouldn't be bad as a blouse, but this is your dress; ALL OF YOUR DRESS." Mary Beth screamed.
"But, that won't even cover my pull-ups," I said nervously.
"Oh you don't have to worry about that, because they said we have to wear diapers, CLOTH DIAPERS."
"What's this all about Beca," I asked a little angrily.
"It's really very simple and if Mary Beth had stopped to listen, we'd have explained it to her. You see, it’s tradition that the youngest students dress up as Baby-New-Year for the New Year's Eve ball," Beca explained.
"It’s tradition is it?" I stated, as I sat on my couch. I invited Mary Beth to join me before I continued. "Well this is one tradition that I plan on breaking. I have no intention of going to a ball, New Year's Eve or otherwise, dressed as a baby."
"But you have to. There's no time to get anyone else," Lizy pleaded.
"No way, no how!" Mary Beth said flatly, folding her arms across her chest.
Both Beca and Lizy started laughing, not hard but definitely laughing. "You two aren't as much fun as Chad and Becky were last year," Lizy complained.
"Fun? What are you talking about?" Mary Beth asked.
Before anyone else could answer, I figured it out and explained. "It's a prank, MayBee. We were almost the subject of a cruel prank. Beca, I thought I could trust you."
Mary Beth looked horrified, as her mind proceed what I'd said.
"A prank yes, but not a cruel prank," Beca professed.
"What do you mean, not a cruel prank?" I asked. "You dress up a pair of students as infants and parade them around in front of the whole school? Sounds like a cruel joke to me."
"It’s not cruel because we've never taken anyone to the ball dressed as a baby," Lizy replied.
"What?" we chorused.
Beca knelt in front of us, as if pleading for forgiveness. "That's right, no one has ever been embarrassed or humiliated. This is Immigration Manor after all. The joke is in the attempt to get them dressed that way. The challenge for us is in talking them into it. Before we let anyone out of their room dressed as Baby-New-Year, we confess that it's a joke, and then we help them look as elegant as possible for the ball; top hat and tails, or beautiful evening gowns. Lizy, go get their gowns."
Lizy disappeared into Mary Beth's room, returning moments later with two long formal evening gowns. The dresses were better than anything I remembered seeing in the closet. The best part for Mary Beth and me, came when Beca and Lizy did our hair and makeup. After they were done, I could have applied for a driver’s license, because I looked like I was eighteen. Too bad I'm so short.
What was really fun, was to watch the transformation that Beca and Lizy went through. As it turned out, Joseph was my escort to the ball and Mary Beth was escorted by Eliot.
All things considered, it was a fabulous evening, or was it a fabulous morning, I so lost track of time. I remember that just before midnight, most the lights went out. They had a big digital clock counting down the seconds. Everyone counted out the last fifteen seconds, getting louder as each second passed.
When the count went from one to zero, everyone started screaming and yelling Happy New Year. Then they started hugging and kissing everyone around them. I'd never kissed so many people in my life.
'I really enjoyed kissing Joseph, but it was kind of confusing. I mean, I know that Joseph is really Beca, and that Beca was born with boy parts, and I know that I'm Matilda, a girl, but I've got boy parts too. So am I a girl kissing a boy? Or am I a girl kissing another girl? Or am I a boy kissing another boy? I'm so confused.'
And then Mary Beth started kissing me and I forgot all about being confused. All I could think about was the butterflies in my stomach and wondering how were they making the ballroom spin around.
Mary Beth and I danced together for a long time after the room stopped spinning. Anywhere else, two ten-year-old girls dancing with each other might have looked strange, but this was Immigration Manor.
Somewhere in the very early hours of the AM, total exhaustion overcame me and I took my small self off the dance floor to an empty chair. I had to sit down. I don’t remember anything after sitting down, except being cradled in someone’s arms. I remember being outside in the cold winter air, while clinging to someone for warmth. The last thing I remembered that night, or was it that morning, was being tucked into bed and someone kissing my forehead.
~ ~ ~ ~
It was a year of discovery, and a year of fear.
A year of kindness and understanding, and a year of brutality and pain.
A year of adventure and surprises, a year of terror, and a year ... of love.
They say that nobody can predict the future, all I can guess about my future at Immigration Manor with Mary Beth is that it promises to be full of hope and excitement.'
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 32
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
If you or any of your IM force are caught or killed we will disavow any knowledge of their existence.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly Hart,
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 32
By Penny Reed Cardon
Monday, January 3, 2005
"Good morning Marie," I cheerfully offered greetings, as Mary Beth and I went through the double doors into the treatment area of the school's hospital.
"Good morning Matilda. You're here for the follow-up on burns I assume. And Mary Beth is here for?"
"I’m going up to visit with Rachael for a few minutes," Mary Beth quickly replied.
"I'll be joining them after I've finished with another fun filled episode of show and tell," I added.
"Show and tell?" Marie questioned.
"Sure, I show you and Dr. Harris the back of my small self, and you tell me what I need to do to make it better."
"Show and tell," Marie repeated herself, as she chuckled and shook her head. "Matilda, you do come up with some of the most unusual expressions."
"See MayBee, I told you she'd think it was funny."
"You're a nut," Mary Beth replied teasingly. "I'll see you upstairs."
"It takes one to know one," I countered her jab with one of my own. "I shouldn't be too long."
"That may be, but you're still the nuttier nut," came her final shot as she disappeared up the stairs.
"Are you two always so much fun to be around?" Marie questioned.
I thought for a moment before replying with a smile, "No, not always, only when we're awake."
"And together, I'll wager. Now that I have your undivided attention, would you please go to examination room two. Take off everything except your underwear and put on the gown that's on the table."
"The same gown as the last time I was here?" I asked with a giggle.
"No, miss funny bones. We ordered in a new gown just for you, it's even pink with butterflies, something closer to your size."
"Oh darn, I guess that means we won't have another amusing episode of 'let's unwrap the mummy' this time," I mumbled, as I waked down the hall.
As instructed, I took off everything except my pull-ups, and then I picked up the new gown, still wrapped in plastic. Before I ripped open the package I read the description and smiled to myself as I shook my head. I knew I was small for a ten-year-old, I'm even small for an eight-year-old, but I didn't think a Child's Extra Small was going to fit me. Setting the package aside, I rummaged around until I found an adult size gown. I'd just finished mummifying myself when there was a knock upon the door.
"Entra vue," I pleasantly called out.
"Matilda, you're not wearing the new gown," Marie complained.
"I didn't think it would fit. The package says -"
"Nonsense," Marie interrupted, as she picked up the package and tore it open. "The supply house assured me that this would fit you. They said an Adult Extra Small would be a little big for an eight-year-old, but they assured me you wouldn't be drowned in fabric. Come here and let's try this."
She shook out the gown and held it out to me. I shrugged my shoulders as I stepped forward so Marie could hold it up to me. As I expected it was a little small, If it fit me at all. Marie’s expression instantly changed as my suspicion was confirmed, the gown wouldn't have fit. It was too small around, and it would have only covered me down to my waist, and not much farther.
"I don't understand it. They said this would be just right."
"Perhaps it doesn't fit because there was a mix-up," I said. I retrieved the plastic bag from the garbage can and pointed out the word 'Child' in the description.
"Now how did that happen?" Marie rhetorically asked.
I was shrugging my shoulders as Dr. Harris walked in. He took one look at my mummified condition and asked, "Marie, I thought we order a gown that would fit Matilda?"
"We did, but somewhere something got mixed up. This is too small," Marie replied, holding up the pink, pillow sham size, gown.
"You're right about one thing, Marie," I added. "It is closer to my size, just a little too far on the other end of the size range."
"Oh well, we'll get it right before you graduate," Dr. Harris conceded. "Right now, let's get you unwrapped and have a look at your back."
The rest of the exam was uneventful. No more burn cream twice a day, 'Hurray', and the itching should ease up in another week or so. They did take another sample of my blood and two swabs from under my tongue. They're still trying to solve the Miniature Munchkin Mystery; so far they didn't have a clue. If I live long enough, I'll run out of samples.
"Hi Rachael! How's my favorite little sister?" I asked as I burst into her room, crossing quickly to give her a hug.
Rachael returned my hug, but I realized something was terribly wrong. Her normal hug was pretty strong, almost like a momma bear hug, but the hug I received was more like being hugged by sick baby bear.
"What's wrong?" I quickly asked.
Rachael turned away, I think she was crying.
"It's her right leg," Mary Beth quietly replied.
"What about it?" I demanded.
It was now obvious that Rachael was crying. I gently sat on her bed and pulled her into my arms.
Mary Beth quietly continued, "It still not healing like it should. Dr. Harris doesn't know why, but the ends aren't - um, oh yeah, they aren't knitting together to become one bone again. At least that's how Rachael described it a little while ago."
"So what are they going to do about it?" I asked.
Just then, the door opened and in strode Dr. Harris, followed by my Mom.
"What are you two doing here?" Dr. Harris asked, almost demanded.
"I've been visiting Rachael while you checking out Matilda's back," Mary Beth replied.
"And I was going to stop by for just a minute before we headed over for lunch. That was before I saw how upset Rachael was. So what are you doing about her leg?" I add, while posing a question to Dr. Harris.
Mom interrupted, before Dr. Harris could object, "It's all right Doctor, you can speak freely in front of these two."
"But I thought -" Dr. Harris began.
Mom interrupted the good doctor once again, "And three months ago you would have been correct. However slow as it may seem to take, progress is taking place at the highest levels. Now, if you would please explain about Rachael's condition."
"Yes ma'am," he replied, although he sounded a little puzzled. "As I explained everything to you in detail, on the phone, not more than an hour ago. For some reason her right femur is refusing to knit like it should. I've contacted several orthopedic surgeons and they are as baffled as I am. The consensus of the other surgeons is that there's really only one course of action to take, and that's the surgical procedure that I outlined; open reduction and internal fixation."
After processing what Dr. Harris had said, I was just a bit outraged by his apparent cold-heartedness. While holding Rachael, who was still crying, I was rather blunt as I expressed myself, "Dr. Harris, please forgive me if I'm rude, but you seem to be regarding my sister as if she's just a piece of meat."
"Matilda!" Mom scolded me as she moved to the other side of Rachael's bed. "Doctor, please forgive my daughter, she too needs to work on being more tactful. Although, I may share her sentiment, her delivery needs some refinement. As for your recommendations regarding the treatment of Rachael's leg, I'm sure you can see she's more than a bit distressed by the prospect. Have you gone over the details with her?" Mom inquired.
Dr. Harris seemed shocked at the prospect of discussing with a child what he'd already discussed with the child's parent. "Not in detail," he reluctantly replied.
"Then I suggest you do so, and I would recommend that you explain things at her level of understanding, you might also add a bit more feeling and compassion." I'd never heard Mom chastise anyone that way, except me of course. And, Mom clearly meant that Dr. Harris explain everything at Rachael's level of understanding.
Mom put her arms around her crying daughter as I backed away to stand with Mary Beth.
"My apologies, but I sometimes have a hard time dealing with the anger I feel when I’m dealing with Rachael," Dr. Harris confessed.
"Anger?" I demanded in surprise, not knowing why anyone would be angry with Rachael.
"I'm not angry with Rachael, but by the circumstances under which she came to be in our care," Dr. Harris explained.
"Thank you for explaining yourself," Mom accepted his apology.
"And as for the circumstances, they should be rectified before the end of the month," I added.
"Matilda, what are you talking about?" Mom wanted to know.
"Nothing that needs to be discussed right now," I replied, skirting around the issue. Getting back to the matter at hand, I asked, "Dr. Harris, about Rachael's leg?"
"Of course," he replied. Placing a stool next to Rachael's bed, he sat down and looked up at her. "Rachael, for some reason the two broken ends of the bone, in your right thigh, aren't growing back together like they normally would. To be completely honest, I don't know why this is happening. I've talked with some other doctors and they are as puzzled as I am. We're guessing that when your leg was broken something got in the wound that has affected the broken ends of the bone. We feel the only way you are going to be able to leave this bed and walk again is for me to operate on your leg. What I plan to do, if you will let me, is carefully open your leg and cut off a little of the bone on both sides of the break. I'll use some special clamps to hold the two ends together, and then I'll put in two small stainless steel pins. Those pins will hold the newly exposed ends together while they heal."
"How much is that going to hurt," Rachael asked, while sniffling and trying to be brave.
"While you're in surgery you won't feel anything, you'll be asleep. After we bring you back here, the only thing you should feel is from where I needed to make the incision. I'll leave instructions with the nurses to see that you aren't in any pain. We don't want you spaced out, just comfortable."
"How much longer am I going to be stuck in this bed?" was Rachael's next question.
"Normally, a broken femur, on someone your age, would heal enough to start walking on it, in about eight weeks. For this extensive a treatment, I would like to keep your leg immobilized for twelve weeks, in order to assure proper fusion of the bone."
"That's early April," I added.
"April!" Rachael exclaimed. "I'll be here almost the whole school year. I'm going to have to take third grade over again."
"Don't over do it," Mom calmly said. "You've been keeping up on your school work. In fact, according to the tutor that's been working with you, you're ahead of the rest of your class, by more than a month."
"I didn’t know Rachael had a tutor," Mary Beth commented.
"But of course she's had a tutor, this is a school you know, and there are teachers around here," Mom added.
"So, I won't have to do third grade over?" Rachael asked, sounding very pleased.
"Only if you want to. It would make you the oldest student in the class," Mom added.
"And be board to death, because I already know everything, not to mention that everyone else would think I'm a dummy for re-doing third grade. No thank you!" Rachael exclaimed.
"Very well, fourth grade it is. Now, do you have any other questions for Dr. Harris?"
"What happens to the steel pins after my leg is better?"
"You mean, do I have to open your leg again to take the pins out?" Dr. Harris asked.
I think he was guessing about Rachael's real question. Rachael nodded, confirming my suspicion.
"No, the pin will become a permanent part of your leg. Of course, that also means you'll set off the metal detectors, of any airport you go through," he added with a grin. "Any more questions?"
"I don't think so," Rachael concluded.
"Well, I have a question," I said, jumping into the convention. "How much bone are you going to take off?"
"That depends on what I find, when I can examine the fractures under a microscopic. However, right now the plan is that no more than half an inch on each side of the fracture."
"So her right leg will be an inch shorter than her left leg, maybe more?" I asked, clarifying what I'd heard.
"How is that going effect her walking?" Mom asked Dr. Harris.
"I guess you could say that, ‘that's dropping the other shoe’. With one leg shorter than the other, Rachael will have a definite limp. Customarily, after a couple of weeks of physical therapy, we would add extra depth to the sole of the one shoe, so she would walk normally. However, the consensus of the other surgeons are, that because of the unusual circumstances, that is, her bones not mending as they should, we not add the extra weight of the thick sole, for at least a year."
"So, I'm going to limp, like I'm crippled or something?" Rachael asked, confirming what she'd heard.
"Only for a little while," Dr. Harris confirmed, then added, "Actually for the first two to three months, after the cast comes off, it's recommended that you use some crutches, putting almost no weight on your right leg. After that, you'll need to use a cane, to give the muscles in your leg time to regain their strength. Starting in April of 2006, we'll add to the sole of your shoe a little at a time, until you're walking normally again."
"Dr. Harris? It sounds like you plan on taking care of Rachael for quite some time. It almost sounds like she will be going to school here?" I asked, trying my best to hide the nervousness in my voice.
"I don't know anything about what school Rachael will be attending. All I know is, that I was told I would be her physician until she's walking normally," He explained.
It was at that moment that Mary Beth started tugging on my arm. "What?" I asked.
"We've missed lunch and we're late for class," She said, showing me the time on her PDA.
"Oh my goodness! Sorry, this was supposed to be just a quick 'hello and how are you doing' visit. We've got to run, and I mean that literary," I exclaimed as we made a hasty exit.
"No running between the buildings. We don't need any more broken legs around here." I heard Dr. Harris call out as we were hopping down the stairs two at a time.
We weren't in to much trouble for being late to Computer Studies; one, because I'm way ahead of everyone in our year, except possible Aaron, and two, because we were giving comfort to someone. We were told that giving comfort to another student was an acceptable reason for being late, or missing class, if necessary. We just had to send Ellen a note and everything would be fine.
'That's the second time in one day someone has implied Rachael will be at the Manor for longer than I expected. I wonder if Mom has picked up on what people are implying. I wonder if I should talk with Mom. I know I can't talk with Rachael about what I know. I guess the best thing to do right now is wait and see what happens after she gets her cast off.'
Friday, January 7, 2005
"RJ, could you take a look at this data?" I asked, trying to make sense of some abnormalities.
"Matilda, are you in the US Marshal's system again?" RJ inquired as he came around his desk.
"No sir," I replied confidently. "I copied the whole Roberts directory. So that when we paste the amended directory back in the byte count will be an exact match. For good measures, I copied the two directories before and after the Roberts directory. That way I'd have exact byte count and I'd be able to synchronize everything back into their system, without leaving any traces of tampering."
"Good thinking, so what's the problem?"
"The problem is, I think someone has already been tampering with the files in the Roberts directory."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, if you were to look at this file, just as anyone else would, everything looks normal. But, if you look at the bit mapping, there are some gaps, like the files are fragmented."
"There could be any number of reasons why there would be spaces in the data."
"That's true, but then the directories, before and after, would look the same, but they don't."
"What do you mean, they don't look the same."
"Every byte has valid data, every bit is used sequentially. Take a look." I changed the view on my screen to show RJ what I meant.
"I see what you mean. You did copy this data from an archived drive, not an active drive?"
"I think so. From what I can tell, the US Attorney General's office and the US Marshal's work out of the same server and database on active cases. When the case is closed, a copy of the directory is run through a data compression routine, cataloged, and saved onto the archive server. If needed, a copy of the directory is sent to the witness protection division, they have their own server. I first discovered the abnormalities on the witness protection server. Backtracking the changes I found, led me to the archive server, at the US Marshal's."
"What if a case is reopened?" RJ queried.
"What I've found about reopening a case is, the directory would be copied off of the archive server and decompressed. When they've finished with the case, it goes back into the archives, after the files are again compressed. They are stored with an amended catalog number and a new date. The original files are not changed or amended."
"Matilda, it seems you've spent a lot of time digging around in the US Marshal's computer systems. How many times have you been in those systems?"
"Umm . . . you really want me to answer that?"
"Matilda!"
"Okay, okay. Just don't yell at me, it's for a good cause, you know."
"Well?"
"I'm not sure, I mean I didn't actually keep count or have a timer running.
"I'm waiting for an answer."
"I guess I'd have to say, once or twice, sometimes three times, a day while I was learning to act as Sally."
"Once or twice a day while you were - that was almost three weeks. You were in their system FORTY TIMES?"
"Maybe more," I mumbled.
"MORE!"
"You’re yelling," I shyly replied.
RJ looked like he was ready to pop a cork and I could almost see steam coming out his ears. He then took a deep breath before carefully saying, "I was speaking ... with emphasis."
'Oh, is that what dad was doing all those years, speaking to me with emphasis. I could have sworn that he was yelling at me, just before, during, and after he slapped me around.'
I knew better than to say anything at that moment, sarcastic or otherwise. Sitting still and not making a sound was undoubtedly the correct course of action, under the circumstances.
RJ spent several moments regaining his normal composer. When he was himself again he asked to see the rest of my data.
We spent the next forty-five minutes going over everything I'd retrieved from the various systems that were used by US Marshal's office. After I'd finished RJ paced back and forth for several minutes, quietly stroking his beard.
"Matilda, we've been out smarted," RJ finally said.
"You mean there is nothing we can do?" I asked.
"Now, I didn't say that, but it is obvious that someone else has already done what we were going to do. The question is, who and why. It seems to me that there's only one answer to those questions. The ‘Who’, would be someone within the marshal's office, and the why is probably a simpler answer, money.
"What you have inadvertently discovered Matilda, is that organized crime has a mole in the US Marshal's office. That of course creates several new questions to be answered, who changed the records, how deep does the corruption in the marshal's office go, who is the witness protection program actually protecting, and what happened to the family they were supposed to be protecting?"
"So what do we do now?"
RJ went to his desk and got two USB flash drives, handing them to me, he explained, "I'd like you to copy all of your data onto these flash drives, two drives, two copies, one for you and one for me. Then I want you to purge Joshua of those files."
"But why?"
"To keep that information safe."
"Isn't Joshua safe?"'
"Today, yes. Tomorrow, who knows? We always do our best to safeguard the information on Joshua, but -"
"If I can find him, someone else might be able to find him."
"Matilda, why do you refer to Joshua as him? It's just an elaborate collection of circuit boards, hard drives, and programming."
"It’s hard for me not to think of him as an ... individual. He's so - I'd have to say personalized. He's always sending me funny things, comics and stuff. We've played lots of games, and he actually learns from his mistakes and it gets harder and harder to beat him. He's just so much fun to have around. It's more like I'm dealing with a person, not a machine."
"Hum, I've never had it respond to me in that manor, or anyone else that I'm aware of. Anyway, since you discovered Joshua, we've add several additional security measures to keep it hidden from the rest of the world."
"Okay. After I've cleaned up Joshua, then what do we do?"
"I'll set up a meeting."
"A meeting, a meeting with who?"
"That would be whom, and I can't give you that information."
RJ spent several moments quietly thinking. When he spoke, I was surprised by his question, "Matilda, have you ever checked out the US Attorney General's systems?"
"Umm, no I haven’t. I didn't think there was any reason to go there. It's the US Marshal's that run the whiteness protection program."
"I'm sure you're right about that, Matilda. However there may be an unaltered archive file, on a server, at the AG's office."
"I hadn't thought of that. Are you giving me permission to hack into the Attorney General's computers?"
"Of course not! You know full well that I cannot give you permission to invade a computer system outside of school, or a school assignment. And, officially, I have no knowledge of any student ever breaking those rules. Unofficially however, it seems to me that certain questions might be answered, with more information."
"And if you or any of your IM force are caught, or killed, we will disavow any knowledge of their existence," I added with smile.
"Something like that," RJ chuckled.
"Anything else we should be looking for?"
"Missing person reports. News stories, about suspected gangsters disappearing. Reports, of unidentified human remains being discovered. Cases in the AG's office that were suddenly dropped. That variety of information might give us a clue about who is actually being protected."
"That's a lot if information to dig through. Do we need to know all of that before the meeting?"
"No, the information you have will convince the comm ... um, those interested, that our contacts should be notified and they should start an investigation; but additional information wouldn't hurt."
"How much time do I have, before the meeting?"
"It will take about a week for ... those interested, to arrive."
"A week! You expect me to find all that in a week?" I asked, almost in shock.
"Of course not. What I expect of you is, that you will attend all of your classes, pay attention to your instructors, help Mary Beth with her homework, along with anyone else that asks for assistance, and in your free time, you will relax with your friends. However, knowing how your insatiable curiosity drives you, I imagine some of your free time will be spent prowling through some unsuspecting database. Please remember one thing, Matilda."
"What's that?"
"The slow blade penetrates the shield."
"What?" I asked completely puzzled by RJ's statement.
"Move slowly when entering an outside system. Even if you've been there before, new security measures may have been added. Consider carefully each step before you make it, because rushing in without thinking is what causes mistakes and detection. We wouldn't want anyone to know you have been tip-toe-ing through their tulips, that is, their databases, now would we?"
"No, we wouldn't want that," I agreed, with a smile.
Later, while I was in the lounge with the rest of the Black Sheep, I was telling Mary Beth what RJ had said about there being a mole in the US Marshal's office. Jenny, Aaron, Hope and Nichole were casually listening in. I wasn't exactly sure they needed to know all the details, but I wasn't divulging any school secrets, and they already knew about Bart's attacks on Mary Beth and Rachael. So I figured that it probably didn't matter if they knew about what I found.
It was while I was talking about trying to find news articles concerning missing person reports, or about anyone that might be connected to organized crime, with nothing but an approximate date, that's when Mary Beth had heard enough. "Matilda that's ridiculous, how are you supposed to find out who they really are? You don't evening know what part of the country they're from. I know you're smart, but this is a job for the police."
"Not necessarily," Jenny corrected. "If Matilda is right and someone in the US Marshal's office is involved with organized crime, there maybe nothing the local or state police can do."
"On the other hand, we aren't compelled to follow the same rules the police are, well not exactly," Aaron added.
"Someone's talking about breaking the rules?" Howard asked with a smile, as he joined our conversation. Howard's question brought the attention of everyone else and I suddenly found myself the center of attention, again.
'I've got to stop doing this, whatever it is that I'm doing, I've got to stop it. I don't like being the center of attention and having everyone looking at me, it makes me feel small and I'm already small enough.'
Jenny quickly corrected what Aaron had said and answered Howard's question, "No Howard, we are not talking about breaking the rules, not exactly. However, by bending the rules a little, what we intend to do, is find out who has broken the rules."
"What I'm suggesting is doing some research that the local authorities haven't thought of doing," Aaron concluded.
"Research?" Howard asked, making it sound like the worst thing in the world. "You can deal me out."
"But they're trying to prove that the cop's have screwed up," Nichole said plainly.
"And if they can prove it, they can rub the cop's noses in it," Hope added.
"Now, that sounds like fun, deal me back in," Howard decided.
"It's still a huge job, finding a family of three, that disappeared four and a half years ago, and was connected with the mob. Oh wait, we're not looking for just one family, but two families; and the second one is probably dead and buried, where they'll never be found. It'll take years," Mary Beth complained.
"It does seem like an impossible task, I'll agree," Aaron calmly stated. "However, with the use of the internet and some creative programming, we should be able to cut that time down considerably."
"What kind of programming?" Hope asked.
Aaron told us what he could do, with some elaborate search routines, flagging any files that matched the search criteria, and saving the links into a database of his own. We would then only have to review the flagged files, avoiding the files that weren't relevant. After Aaron was finished, I knew why he was this years computer specialist and my specialty is security systems; I can work my way into a system and look around, whereas his talents were more on the creative side. On the other hand, I've got eight years to learn.
I sent Aaron a file with what little I knew about Bart's family and their former life. He said it would take some time, but that we should have some possible files to go through by Sunday evening.
Before going to sleep, Mary Beth talked in detail about RJ's concerns and the meeting he was setting up. RJ had tried hard to make me not curious about who would be attending. His attempt didn't work, I was sure they would be some of the top members of the S.P.A. There were two questions on my mind as I drifted off to sleep; who were they, and should I try to figure it out, before they arrived.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 33
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
"Those who have the ability to take action, have the responsibility to take action."
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 33
By Penny Reed Cardon
Thursday, January 13, 2005
The week went by quickly, with only a couple of things that were out of the ordinary. The first was, with everyone reading through the news articles that Aaron's program had been flagging, the short morning meetings weren't so short anymore; and someone nicknamed them the 'Pilot's Briefing'. That sort of seemed appropriate, we were called the Black Sheep and they were the pilots. The pre-flight briefing where they discussed their plan of attack was called pilot's briefing and we were planning an attack, of sorts. So I guess it sort of made sense, in a strange roundabout way.
The other big event that week, occurred during the Thursday morning briefing. Mostly the reports from the previous day’s news article readings were pretty much the same. With Aaron calling through each of our names, the replies went something like this:
"Jenny?"
"I read twenty articles, I have nothing to report."
"George?"
"Eighteen, Sorry, nothing."
"Sue?"
"I read twenty-five, with one possible match."
The article would then be read out loud and discussed to see if it was truly what, or rather who we were looking for.
So far we had been unsuccessful. Aaron's program had flagged over two-thousand articles that matched the search parameters. So far, as a group, we'd read and reported on something over fifteen-hundred.
Then, rather unexpectedly, on Thursday morning, when Aaron called for Hope's report:
"I read twenty-five articles, and I have one that's kind of a match; but I'm not sure. It's for a family from Chicago, the Santino's.
'Police were called to the estate of Mr. and Mrs. Walter Santino Wednesday morning when their private security company called for assistance. When the police arrived, the main floor of the two-story, Victorian mansion, appeared to have been ransacked, although numerous works of art were still hanging and there were a number of gold and silver statues left untouched.
Missing are; June Santino, brunette hair, hazel eyes, twenty-eight, one hundred ten pounds, and stands five foot three inches. Walter Santino, bald, stands six foot seven inches tall and weighs four hundred pounds."
"Gees, I wouldn't want him mad at me," Misa interrupted. Several others made similar comments, agreeing with Misa’s sentiment.
Hope continued reading the article, "They have a son, also named Walter, age nine, black hair, brown eyes, and a mole about an inch below his right ear. Police are treating this as a triple abduction. However, we have an unconfirmed report that would indicate the police have little hope of finding the Santino family."
"There was an article in the same paper, several days later, that went on to say that Mr. Santino was under investigation for dealing in drugs, prostitution, child pornography, and several other assorted charges. The investigation was dropped when the family disappeared, it was speculated that they were eliminated by a rival mob family."
"They disappeared in March of 2000. There is a picture of the family with the first article; however it's not a very good one." Hope came over and handed the article to me, as she continued. "Everything fits except the age of the son; he was nine when they disappeared."
"That explains a lot of things, like why he was so much bigger than everyone else," I commented when I saw the picture. "And, that's the same place that Bart has a mole."
Mary Beth gasped slightly and added, "I've never met Bart's dad, and now I wouldn't want to."
"I only saw him once, just after they'd finished terrorizing Principle Purcell, when we were in first grade. I thought Bart's dad looked like a very big football player."
"You mean?" Aaron asked.
"Everyone, allow me to introduce the terror of Whittier Elementary School, Bartholomew Roberts and his horrible parents," I proclaimed as I turned the picture for everyone to see.
"My friends we've done it, we're smarter than the US Marshal's," Howard proudly proclaimed. "Now that we know more than they do, what do we do with it?"
"Well, RJ is supposed to be setting up a meeting for me, with . . . somebody. I'll be explaining to them about the changed information, basically give them a rundown on everything I've found, including this new information. I guess the plan is that they will do something about Bart and his family. Well, I guess that's really Walter and his family."
I should have been excited with the discovery of Bart's real identity, but I had been having a hard time getting excited about anything in the last week or so. Topping off everything else, Ellen had scheduled an extra section with just me, Friday morning, and I had a hunch I knew what she wanted to talk about.
Friday, January 14, 2005
"Come in," Ellen called out, after I'd knocked on her office door. I really didn't want to, but it seemed like I didn't have a choice. After all, it wasn't like I could really hide anywhere. The snow maze would have been good, but with the locator system it seemed pointless.
"Good morning Matilda. Why don't you have a seat on one of the couches, I’ll be with you in a moment."
I didn't really respond to Ellen's greeting. I nodded an acknowledgement and went to the couch that was farthest from Ellen's chair. As time went by, I was building a very profound dislike for quiet rooms. Anytime I moved the crinkle noise, from my pull-ups, echoed off the walls, at least that's how it sounded to me.
I had just crinkled my way to a seated position ,when Ellen got up and disappeared into the closest, off to one side of her office. When she re-emerged, a few moments later, she was carrying a strange assortment of items; a fresh box of tissues, two glasses, a package of Oreo's, a half gallon of milk, two hand towels, and a small box. What was more surprising was that she arranged everything on the coffee table, in front of me. Then Ellen joined me on the couch, instead of sitting in her usual chair.
When Ellen was seated, she opened the milk and filled both glasses. Next she opened the Oreo's. After spreading one of the hand towels across my lap, "Just in case," she commented, she handed me a glass of milk and a stack of cookies.
We spent the next forty-five minutes dunking Oreo's and discussing a wide variety of subjects. After which, I reluctantly had to admit to Ellen, and myself, that I'd had my fill of milk and cookies. I gently worked my way off the couch, placing the glass and hand towel on the table.
Before I had a chance to get back onto the couch, and before I realized what was happening; Ellen had suddenly scooped me up and I found myself in a seated position on her lap. I gasped at the sudden motion. Before I could say anything, Ellen was brushing some stray hairs out of my eyes and gently talking, "Now then, my little Munchkin, stuffing you with milk and cookies hasn't caused any hidden secrets to spill out. So I guess I'll have to be more direct, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"
I was so shocked by Ellen picking me up, setting me on her lap, gently stroking my hair, and calling me by my nickname; which was something that Ellen never did, that I completely missed that she'd called me little.
"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm fine," I mumbled, trying to bluff my way out.
"Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? Let me see if I can explain myself, so there won't be any misunderstanding. I've been getting reports from your teachers that you don't participate in class discussions, that you mope around most of the time, that you have been trying to isolate yourself from the rest of your year by sitting as far away from the others as possible, and I've even been told that you were gruff with Mary Beth. So, I want to know what's making everyone’s favorite Munchkin so unhappy."
"Mary Beth said I was gruff?" I asked in surprise.
"No, Mary Beth hasn't said anything about you being gruff. When I visited with her, she said you seemed to be a lot more quiet than normal and wouldn't talk with her about what was bothering you. She seemed to be hurt by your silence, and was wondering if you were keeping secrets from her again. The report about you appearing to be gruff came from someone else."
"I guess saying that ‘I don't want to talk about it’, isn't going work?"
"Not a chance, especially not after stuffing you with my favorite cookies and milk."
"Thank you, they were yummy."
"You're welcome, and don't try changing the subject. Let's start with a simple question, are you keeping secrets from Mary Beth?"
"No, no secrets."
"But you haven't told her why you've gone from happy and bubbly, to sad, mopey, and depressed, in just a few short weeks."
"Well, not directly. I mean, she's with me almost all the time, I just figured she knew."
"Well, I'm not with you all the time. So, why don't you tell me why you're so depressed?"
I was looking into Ellen's eyes as she asked me to tell her why I felt so depressed. I mean, there I was, sitting on her lap, crinkling any time either of us moved, and she didn't know why I was sad and depressed. I hung my head in shame. I couldn't bear to look at her as I mumbled, "I can't control my bladder, so I can't get out of these lousy diapers." It was then that I started crying. Not only was I incapable of controlling a few tiny muscles, I was forced into the humiliating situation of talking about it.
I hadn't looked up, so I didn't know what Ellen's initial reaction was. At least her clock was ticking, so the room wasn't completely silent.
"Is there anything else that's troubling you?" Ellen finally asked, as my crying started to subside.
"Isn't that enough?" I said, between sniffles, almost getting angry.
"Matilda, forgive me if I sound insensitive, but you're not the only person at this school who has trouble holding their water."
That one statement caught me by surprise, " I - I'm not?"
"No Matilda, you're not. Let me approach this a little differently, you have trouble with your ears, in that you don't hear tones correctly. Do you consider that condition a nuisance or a handicap?"
I thought about it for a moment, as I blew my nose, "I guess I'd say that it's a nuisance. I mean, I can hear pretty well, it's just mixed up a little."
"A very good answer. I assume that you'd consider it a handicap if you couldn't hear, is that correct?" I nodded in reply. "Would you be able to play the glockenspiel if you were deaf?"
"I don't think so," I timidly replied, while wondering if that was a trick question.
"Why not, you've admitted that what you do is just a matter of timing and hitting the correct key?"
I didn't really have an answer for that one.
Ellen set me on my feet and invited me to join her at her desk.
"I'd like to show you something," she said, moving her mouse to wake up her computer. She had a video queued up and pressed play. What I saw was an incredible performance by a young lady on a xylophone.
"I can see you are impressed by Evelyn Glennie. Would you be surprised if I told you that she is deaf?"
I could tell that my eyes had grown to about twice their normal size. "She's deaf?" I stuttered.
Ellen pressed play again. The camera zoomed out to reveal Evelyn's feet; stockings, but no shoes.
"Yes Matilda, Evelyn is deaf. She feels the music with her feet."
I was somewhat stunned as Ellen led me back over to sit on the couch, separately.
"So, perhaps you could answer some questions. Does the fact that you currently have a little problem holding your water prevent you from walking, or talking, or interacting with others?"
"No."
"Has your problem prevented you from going swimming each Saturday morning, with your classmates?"
"No."
"Does your problem directly interfere with your classes, or your ability to learn new things?"
"No."
"Are you capable of giving more than single word answers?"
"No - I mean, yes. You tricked me with that one."
"Possibly, but you seemed to be stuck in a rut. So then, when all is said and done, is the fact that you're having trouble holding your water a nuisance or a handicap?"
"It's just a nuisance." I reluctantly replied, realizing how self-centered I'd been.
"So answer this question, does something that is only a nuisance warrant being so depressed?"
"No Ellen, it doesn't. I guess I've been acting stupidly."
"I wouldn't say you've been acting stupidly. Overly sensitive about your condition and with a personal revulsion towards a particular form of protection perhaps, but I wouldn't say stupidly."
I didn't have a reply, so Ellen continued, "Now that we established that your problem is only a nuisance, let's talk a little about your problem. I told you before; I consider it a medical problem and would leave it between you and Dr. Harris. However, your depression has told me it's time for us to talk about it. For me to understand the situation better, I'll need to ask some personal questions and I need you to answer honestly. Are you ready?"
I knew this was going to be embarrassing, but I nodded my consent.
"So tell me, about how many pull-ups do you use a day?"
"Usually only one, occasionally two," I sheepishly replied.
"Really, one and occasionally two? Most people would consider that quite an accomplishment. How often do you know that you've accidentally released urine?"
"Three times a day, sometimes five or six. It depends on what's going on and how far away from a restroom I am."
"Three to six times a day, but you're only changing one to two times a day. I must ask, how much is released each time?"
"I don't really know how much, enough that I'd have to go change, if I were wearing panties."
"I see. Tell me; since you came back from Quebec, have you completely soaked the pull-up, like when you were in Sally mode?"
"Only a couple of times," I shamefully replied. "Each time I'd been distracted and I didn't get to the bathroom, especially the first thing after getting out of bed." I really didn't want to admit Mary Beth had been the distracting influence.
"So tell me, what's worse, changing your clothes several times a day, along with the embarrassment of having wet yourself, or wearing something to protect your clothing, thereby saving you from some embarrassment?"
"The embarrassment of having wet clothes would be worse."
"I would agree. Now then, having a medical problem, that requires the wearing of something to protect your clothes and prevent embarrassment, is a nuisance and not a handicap, correct?"
"That's correct. As much as I dislike the pull-ups, they are just a nuisance and I'm being over sensitive."
"And being depressed about something that's merely a nuisance is?"
"It’s unproductive and childish. Which is not to be confused with committing a childish prank."
"Very good Matilda, on all three points. So, you're not going to be depressed about wearing some form of protection?"
"No. No more depressed Munchkin."
"And you're not going to separate yourself from your classmates?"
"No."
"And you're going to be cheerful and participate in class?"
"Yes."
"And you're not going to be gruff with Mary Beth?"
"But I wasn't . . . okay, no being gruff with Mary Beth."
"Excellent, from everything you've told me, I think it's time for you to graduate,"
"Graduate, from what?"
"Graduate from wearing protection against complete loss of bladder control, to protection against minor loss of bladder control."
I looked at Ellen, shaking my head, in complete confusion, as she picked up the small box, which she'd placed on the coffee table.
Ellen sat back and smiled, holding the box in her lap, "Matilda, it used to be that when a girl reached the age of about ten, her mother would have a talk with her and explain to her about the changes her body would soon be undertaking. More recently, the public school systems are taking on the role of educating girls about their bodily functions and the different sanitary products that are available. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"
My answer was simple; I shook my head.
"I can see you're not going to make this easy on me," Ellen bemoaned. "I'm not going to go into all the details right now, you'll learn those in the first of your Life Skills classes in the spring. For now, all you need to know is, there are a number of products used by women, and girls, to protect their clothing. Likewise, there are a number of products used by people with bladder problems, to protect their clothing."
Ellen opened the box and handed me a small - - something.
"This is the smallest pad available. I'm guessing it will still be a bit large for you, but it should be more discreet and more in line with your current needs."
"What is it," I timidly asked.
"Technically speaking, it's an incontinence pad. I like to think of it as more like a panty liner. Just tear open the paper cover and take out the pad."
Hesitantly, I did as instructed, as Ellen continued, "Okay, now unfold it. That's right. Now, smooth it out a bit to take out the crease and folds; that's right, just like that. Now, you see the paper on the one side? That's right; pull the paper off. The sticky stuff is what holds the pad in place, in the gusset of your panties. Any questions so far?"
"So, with these pads, I don't have to wear the pull-ups anymore, I can go back to wearing panties?" I gleefully asked.
"That is correct, Matilda, you don't have to wear pull-ups anymore. You know, for being as smart as you are, you're sure are slow sometimes."
"It’s not that, I'm just a little confused. First we talked about wearing the pull-ups as being a good thing and I shouldn't be depressed about wearing them. So, in my mind I was trying to convince myself that it was going to be a long term requirement and instead of being sad, I should forget about them and make the most out of life. Then you do a one-eighty on me and show me an alternative that I never knew existed. It may seem silly, but I'm wondering if there is another one-eighty coming at me, just around the corner."
"Well, you can never tell about tomorrow, it's usually full of surprises. As for today, why don't you take this box down the hall to the restroom and make a little change," Ellen said. With a smile she handed me the box.
Looking in the box, I discovered a couple more pads and at least one pair of panties. Putting the lid on the box, I happily hopped off the couch and started towards the door. I almost didn't notice the crinkle, as I moved.
"Matilda, I have one more item to discuss before you leave. That school rule you discovered, a few months ago, that caused you and Mary Beth so much grief."
I froze in my tracks as Ellen started speaking, slowly turning to face her, again. "I remember."
"There was some misinterpretation on our part. It appears there was no reason for us to attempt to prevent you from seeing your mother."
My eyes grew three sizes and my heart started racing, "You mean that, that horrible rule has been rescinded?"
"No, not rescinded, just clarified. It takes effect after the students graduate. The rule is normally explained to the other students at the conclusion of their Year D. The need for secrecy is clearly explained to everyone and without exception everyone, up until now, has agreed to maintain the secrecy of the school, for the good of everyone concerned."
"So, I still have secrets to keep," I complained.
"That is true, but not from Mary Beth."
"I guess that's some consolation. Anything else?"
"From my experience, it takes a little pressure for the adhesive to stick; one hand inside and one outside usually does the trick."
Nodding, I left Ellen's office. I put the thoughts of the 'No contact' rule out of my head, for the time being, as I almost ran down the hall and burst through the restroom door. I already had my hands under my skirt, as I scanned for other occupants. After I'd confirmed I was alone, I ripped apart the sides of the pull-ups. As they fell away I heaved a sigh of relief as the cool air swept under my skirt, chilling my hot clammy skin. For a time, I was tempted by the thought of slipping outside with nothing on under my skirt. However, owing to a strong sense of modesty, instilled by my mother's teaching, and not wanting to hear Ellen's lecture on the subject if I were discovered, I decided to refrain from such a reckless course of action. Instead I stepped into a stall and gently fanned my skirt back and forth until the accumulated perspiration was gone and my skin had returned to its normal temperature.
'How long was I tempted to run outside with nothing on under my skirt, I heard one of you ask? 0.625 seconds . . . almost an eternity.'
Following Ellen's recommendations, after using the facilities, I gently slid the panties up my legs, unwrapped one of the pads, stuck the pad in place, and then proceeded with the ritual Miss Adams taught me. All in all I felt pretty good about the whole thing. The pad was far less bulky between my legs and with very little effort I could almost completely ignore their presence. The pads were kind of long, covering more of my panties than I thought was necessary. Then again, the pad didn't crinkle and it did a much better job of holding things in place, than the pull-ups did.
I was a bit giddy, as I left the restroom. It was at that moment I realized I'd forgotten something important. I turned around and skipped down the hall. Stopping at Ellen's office, and without hesitation, I once again knocked on the door.
"One moment please," came the response.
Cheerfully, I bounced around the in hall, waiting.
A few moments later I heard the familiar, "Come in."
I didn't know if Ellen was alone or not, so I slowly inched the door open, cautiously peaking in as the gap widened. Eventually I spotted Ellen, sitting in her chair by the couches, her back towards the door. Not seeing anyone else in the room, I slipped inside and skipped towards Ellen. As I rounded the corner of her chair I discovered that Ellen wasn't alone, Kimberley was sitting in just the right position that she was completely hidden by Ellen. It didn't matter to me that Kimberly was in the room, I was already committed on a course of action and I just went with the flow. I leaned in across the arm off the chair, threw my arms around Ellen's neck, and planted a kiss squarely on her cheek.
"What was that for?" Ellen asked, as I was backing away.
"I forgot to say thank you," I sheepishly replied.
"Well, I haven't had anyone say thank you like that for a long time. You're welcome, Matilda."
Smiling, I turned to leave.
"What was that all about?" Kimberley asked.
"Let's just say that Sally has finally gone home and we have our Munchkin back." I heard Ellen reply, as I pulled the door shut.
After leaving Ellen's office, I headed back to the Year A lounge. I made a quick detour up to my room to put away the rest of the pads Ellen had given me. To my surprise there was already a full package of pads in my closet, next to the partial bag of pull-ups.
'My goodness these people are efficient, scary, but efficient.'
I sat close to Mary Beth when I arrived in the lounge, perhaps a little too close.
"What's up?" she whispered.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't give me your innocent, 'What do you mean?' look. Something's changed. What?"
I learned in, and whispered in Mary Beth's ear, "I'll explain everything later." Before I sat back, and before she could react, I quickly planted a tiny kiss on her cheek.
"Now, now, no smooching in the lounge," Hope proclaimed light heartedly.
"Eeewww," was Howard's comment.
"Get a room," added George.
Being that Mary Beth was blushing, I replied to our professional hecklers in a very adult manner. I made a silly face as I stuck out my tongue.
I turned to Mary Beth and apologized for kissing her in public. Then I moved a little, putting more space between us.
It wasn't until just before going to bed that Mary Beth and I had some private time to talk. We had both changed into our chosen nightwear and had finished reading our scriptures when she asked, "So, what's up? And don't try telling me it's nothing, because you've been acting differently since your appointment with Ellen."
"Really, I've been acting differently? Different how?"
"Don't you start that with me, I know you too well. Now, if you don't tell me what's going on, and I mean right now, I'll pull you across my lap and pretend your padded bottom is a set of bongos."
Quickly, I hopped off the couch and skirted around so the coffee table was between us. "Easy now, let's not get excited. There's no need to get physical."
I didn't waste any time as I undid the sash of my robe, showing Mary Beth the pink satin, baby doll, nightie I was wearing, of course with the matching panties.
Mary Beth seemed to be shocked by my sudden exhibition. However, it only took her a moment to recover, "Matilda, I thought you weren't going to wear a short nightie as long as you had to wear . . . Hey, you're not wearing the pull-ups. Yesterday you were moaning about never getting out of them. What gives?"
Secure in the feeling that my bottom was no longer in danger of being bongoed, I rejoined Mary Beth on the couch. It didn't take long to go over everything that Ellen and I had talked about. I even handed Mary Beth one of my new pads so she could see I wasn't keeping any secrets from her.
Mary Beth seemed a little sad as she asked, "So, this means you won't be using the pull-ups anymore?"
"It means, that I don't have to wear anything I don't want to wear. However, I did tell Ellen that there have been a few mornings where I didn't get to the bathroom quite fast enough and was glad I had them on. So, the pull-ups will still be in my closest, available if I think I might need them. Of course, I didn't tell her it was you that was distracting me, keeping me from the bathroom."
"Me? But, I never -"
I quickly interrupted, "Yes, you! When you wake up before I do and we start talking, first thing."
'Or when I pretend to be sleeping, while you were gently stroking my back and diapered bottom.’ I thought to myself, smiling.
"Fine, I'll never talk to you in the morning again," she professed, with just a little bit of 'I'm hurt' in her voice.
Moving closer, I took her hand in mine. Smiling, I replied, "Yes you will; sometimes I'll have a problem, sometimes I won't, and that's okay. Because Ellen is right, being sad and depressed because I've got a few weak muscles is silly. What's worse is sharing that depression with you and everyone around me. So no more Miss Sourpuss for me, it's more fun being happy. On top of everything else, you have to admit one thing, I may not like the fact that I'm a short 46 pound weakling, and a few muscles may be weaker than the rest, but at least I'm a smart 46 pound weakling."
It took Mary Beth a few moments to control her laughing so she could reply, "Well, I'll admit that sometimes you're a smart-alec."
"Alec? I don't know anyone named Alec. Has someone adopted a new name?"
"Now don't start that, it's late and I'm too tired to start playing your silly games." she said with a smile. "Now, off to the bathroom with you, then into bed."
Agreeing with Mary Beth's request, I hopped off the couch and then turned to offer her a hand, to help her up. Leaving her to deal with the bed and blankets, I skipped into the bathroom to take care of my last minute needs.
Leaving my robe on the back of the bathroom door, I went to join Mary Beth in bed. 'It feels really good to be wearing baby doll pajamas again. I'm not sure why I refused to wear them while I was wearing the pull-ups, the matching panty would provide enough coverage. I guess it was just that silly depressed state I was in that stopped me. Well no more depression and I'll only wear long nightgowns in the winter, when it's cold, or if we're having a sleepover in the lounge. I wonder how shocked, or pleased, Mary Beth would be if I wore a baby doll with a pull-up, but without the matching panty? I may try it sometime just to see her reaction.'
Saturday, January 15, 2005
RJ and I had spent most of Saturday morning going over my presentation. He taught me what information would impress people, who were less computer literate, and what information would fly so far over their heads they couldn't reach it if they stood on their chairs. After all was said and done, we'd cut what would have been a two hour technical presentation down to a twenty minute Power Point slideshow, but RJ assured me they would understand everything.
"Are you ready for this?" RJ asked.
"I suppose so. I mean, I'm not really sure why I have to be here. You can show them the information, the holes in the data, and that the files from the US Attorney General's office aren't the same as the US Marshal's office," I nervously replied.
"Yes, I can show them the information. But, you're here to answer any questions they may have."
"Answer questions? Are you saying that you wouldn't be able to answer their questions?"
"I'm sure I could answer most of their questions. Although, the question of why we started looking at the data has more of an emotional answer, don't you think?"
"I suppose you're right about that. If I weren't trying to help my friends, get rid of a monster, nobody would have any reason to have dug into those files as deeply as I did."
"That's right. So you're here to convince them that getting involved is the right thing to do."
"Okay," I sighed heavily. "Bring ‘em on."
"That's my girl."
At ten minutes before two, RJ took me to the auditorium. In the middle of the stage was a table with what appeared to be a new laptop computer, with two spotlights shining out of the overhead beam ports. RJ instructed me to wait there and he'd return in ten minutes. Well, well, ten minutes alone with an unknown computer, what did he expect me to do? Of course, I did what comes naturally, I started exploring.
I was surprised; I'd never seen a naked, barebones, system before. There was nothing installed but an operating system and MS Office. 'That explains why RJ had me save all the documents we decided to use as jpeg's and why we created the PowerPoint slideshow.'
Interestingly, there was also a wireless network running, and it was linked to twelve other devices. I thought it strange that I didn't recognize the network name. With PDA in hand I scanned for available networks, sure enough it showed up on the list. The network was shown as locked which wasn't surprising. None of RJ’s regular network passwords worked. I started my usual technique for cracking the code when I realized I'd set off a mine. RJ now knew what I had been trying to do. Knowing I was busted, I backed out so I could start afresh.
I had about five minutes before RJ would return when I noticed that the Bluetooth on my PDA detected another device. A few keystrokes here and a few keystrokes there, and I'd linked my PDA to the computer. I realized that it isn't always necessary to go in via the front door, especially if the back door is standing wide open. A couple of dozen keystrokes on the computer’s keyboard and my surprises were ready.
I had been sitting quietly, with my hands in my lap, for all of about thirty seconds when I heard a door open. A rectangle of light appeared at the back of the auditorium and I counted thirteen silhouettes as they passed through the backlit portal. The door closed and the back of the auditorium was once again completely dark. Moments later I saw a soft glow of light appear, then another, and another, until there were twelve glowing lights scattered in the darkness. They reminded me of fireflies on a moonless night, only these lights weren't flittering around. Of course, it wasn't a moonless night and they weren't fireflies, but at the time the imagery was surprisingly comforting.
Slowly I reached for the keyboard; tapped in a six-character command code, pressed enter, and closed the command prompt window. I smiled to myself, knowing that the microphones on the twelve PDA's were being activated and even the faintest whispers were being recorded, so I could study the voices and conversations later.
It was about two minutes later that RJ emerged from the darkness and came up on stage. "Won't you join me, Matilda," RJ said, as he walked in front of the table. I got up and walked around the table to stand beside RJ.
"Ladies and gentlemen," RJ started. "Allow me to introduce, Matilda."
"Hey RJ, are you joking with us again? That LITTLE girl can't be more than five years-old," someone called out.
RJ quickly moved out of range, as I growled.
Trying to defuse the situation RJ quickly continued, "I assure you, Matilda is ten years-old. I would also ask that you not refer to her using that word, she does take offense, at being referred to in that manner. She may be small, but she has a big heart and will go out of her way to help someone in need."
As RJ was talking, I went back to the computer and checked the PDA recordings. Finding out which PDA recorded the snide comment about my size was an easy matter, so was sending a reboot command. I looked up and smiled as I saw one of the firefly lights go out.
The same voice started to complain, "RJ, This PDA just died, what kind of shoddy equipment did you give us? Wait a second, its coming back on, like it just rebooted itself or something."
RJ scowled at me. I smiled innocently and sat back in my chair.
"The battery must be loose in that unit," RJ answered the complainant. "I'll have to take a look at it later. For right now, Matilda came to me with some unusual information, and I thought it best if she presented it to you. Matilda, any time you're ready."
As Robin Williams said once, 'It's show time.' "Thank you, RJ. As some of you may not be aware, I came to Immigration Manor from a school that was being bullied and terrorized by one boy and his equally horrific parents. No one seemed to be able, or willing, to put a stop to their reign of terror. It almost appeared that they were being protected by some authority, higher than the local or state law enforcement. My first day here, my younger sister was brutally attacked and almost killed by the same bully. She is still confined to a bed in this school’s hospital. In an attempt to see that justice is done, and to protect the other school children in the area where I grew up, I started doing some research concerning the bully of Whittier Elementary School and his family. What I discovered, I feel, is rather alarming."
At that point I started into the presentation that RJ and I had prepared. When I concluded, I politely inquired if anyone had questions that they would like to ask.
"That is rather a lot to absorb in one sitting. RJ, have you verified all of the data that Miss Matilda has just presented?" One person asked.
"Yes I have, both the material she has just presented and the rest of the supporting data. All of which is completely accurate," RJ replied simply.
"There was more data? Why wasn't it presented?" A different person wanted to know.
"The rest of the data consisted of the technical details, exactly which systems, what information found, what files were used for comparison. If we had included all of the data, the presentation would have exceeded two hours," RJ explained.
"That's quite all right dear boy. I found the presentation to have been more than adequately detailed. I don't know about the others, but I'm quite convinced that you ‘Yanks’ have a serious problem brewing, a very serious problem indeed," commented a third person, with a very British accent.
"Yes. Quite enough detail," yet another person replied. "RJ do you really expect us to believe that this little - um, young lady actually came up with all of this on her own?"
I spoke up before RJ could reply, "Would everyone who does not believe I can do what I said I have done, please raise your hand." I paused for a moment. "Oh I'm sorry, I forgot about the lights being off."
I stood up and moved away from the table and the laptop. "Computer, house lights at ninety percent please," I commanded.
Instantly, all the lights in the hall came on. There was quite a bit of commotion, complaints, and grumbling, when everyone's eyes were suddenly stabbed with an unexpected amount light.
I took a quick scan and indeed saw twelve individuals, scattered along the last row of seats. For my own reference I numbered them one through twelve, from left to right.
"That's better, now back to the question; who doesn’t believe I can do what I said I have done?"
"Matilda, what do you think you're doing?" RJ demanded.
"I'm answering the question with a question, and an example," I calmly replied.
"RJ, get these lights off!" Number 5 demanded.
RJ took a seat behind the computer and started searching for something. A few moments later he asked, "Matilda, where did you put the light control routine?"
"It's not on that computer. I didn't have enough time to break your new network encryption. The only programming there is MS Office, nothing that will control the theaters lighting. There is also the links to the twelve PDA's."
"RJ, what kind of place are you running here?" Number Seven asked.
"So, where is the lighting being controlled?" RJ asked.
"It's on the main school server, where it's always been."
"This computer doesn't have access to the main server."
"That's what I discovered."
"So how did you turn on the lights from here?"
"I didn't. I programmed the lights to come on yesterday, with a voice recognition program. I activated the overhead mics and the programming while you were out."
"So, give the command that will instruct the computer to turn the lights off."
"Oh, I can't do that."
"AND WHY NOT?"
"Because I programmed the system to recognize someone else's voice to turn the lights off."
"So, just who has to give the command?"
I turned away from RJ, to face the almost empty audience. "Is Mr. Black out there someplace?"
I heard a distinctive chuckle, then number Ten stood up. "I'm here Matilda."
"Mr. Black, thank you for coming."
"My pleasure, Matilda. I heard you were putting on a show and I figured it would be . . . interesting."
"I try, Mr. Black, I try. Apparently, like you, most of your associates like to hide in the shadows. Would you be so kind as to ask the computer to turn off the houselights?"
"Working in the shadows goes with the job, Matilda. Computer, please turn off the houselights."
Once again, my immediate world was plunged into darkness, save for the two spot lights shining on the table at center stage.
Sounding a little agitated, RJ asked the question, "I think we can now all agree that Matilda is extremely talented when it comes to computer systems, and is quite capable of getting into the systems indicated. Getting back to the matter before us; given the evidence presented I think we can agree that the Witness Protection program has been compromised. The question before us is what do we do about it?"
"The only thing that Matilda's little demonstration proved was that she knows her way around the school’s systems. I haven't seen anything that would convince me that she can get off campus, let alone get into the US Marshal's systems," a slightly angry voice bellowed.
Using my PDA, I checked the recordings that I was sending to Joshua. Once I knew which PDA the recording came through I sent a message to his screen only.
Dear Sir.
What would it take to convince you?
I now have a copy of your voice. It is running
through a voice recognition routine at this
moment. Very soon I will know who you are,
where you live, where you bank, the names of
your wife and children, assuming you have any,
every detail of your life will be open for review.My question to you is, what would you like me
to do with that information?Sincerely
The Evil MunchkinP.S. My choice, would be to do nothing with the
aforementioned information, but the choice is
yours. :-)
After I sent the message I waited ten seconds, then I sent a clear screen command followed by a restart command. No sense leaving any evidence or fingerprints, someone might think I was threatening a member of the S.P.A. and we wouldn’t want that.
I set my PDA down as firefly number Seven went out.
While I'd been momentarily occupied, RJ had been discussing some of the evidence we'd presented, clarifying certain points that would validate its origin. It seems that the majority didn't want to believe that I was capable of doing what I claimed. Sadly I decided it was time to unleash my next demonstration.
Interrupting the discussion I asked, "RJ, when did you set up this computer and the wireless network?"
RJ stopped and looked at me before he answered. I'm sure he was wondering where I was headed. "I set up the system this morning, before you and I got together. Why?"
"And you left me alone with this system for how long?"
"I left you here while I went to get everyone else, ten minutes, maybe eleven."
"And there's no way I can access anything outside of this, closed, network?"
"No. There isn't a link to any outside system."
"I'm sorry to say this, but you're wrong. If everyone would pay close attention to your screens."
Using the laptop's keyboard, so everyone could see what I was doing, I opened a command window and accessed drive D, which was my flash drive. I entered the command LINKTOJ and pressed enter. Many lines of code quickly scrolled up through the command window, then the window cleared and the message LINK ESTABLISHED was displayed. A moment later the speakers on the laptop and all of the linked PDA's echoed the next line of text to appear on the screen, "Greetings Matilda."
"Matilda, what are you doing?" RJ quietly asked.
Equally as quiet I replied, "I'm teaching."
Via the keyboard I entered 'Hello Joshua.' Followed by - 'Voice only'.
"Understood, Matilda. Would you like to play a game?" came from the speakers while nothing appeared on the screen.
I replied verbally, "Thank you, Joshua, not right now. Is video one ready?"
"Yes, Matilda. Shall I run video one?"
"Yes, please."
The big screen that the school showed movies on started to come down as the LCD projector, which is always set up in the mid of the audience seating, came on and started warming up.
"RJ, what is going on?" Someone demanded.
"I'm not quite sure. Apparently Matilda has some kind of demonstration planned. I'm assuming this will demonstrate her abilities relative to computers off campus. Right now I'm more interested in how she linked to Joshua from that laptop. I know that there weren't any links outside the network I setup."
I had finished with the laptop, so I removed my USB flash drive, put it in my pocket, sat back, and waited for the show to begin. A few moments later the lights went off, leaving the auditorium in complete darkness, and the sound of violins started coming from the laptop's speakers, all the PDA's speakers, and the auditorium overhead speakers. The violins were followed by the rest of an orchestra and all of the screens displaying pictures set to music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ttDUGM-1mU
When the video had ended the stage lights came back on.
"Matilda, what was the point of that little demonstration?" someone asked from the darkness.
"The purpose was twofold; first, to demonstrate that I am able to extract data from computers outside of the schools networks. The 'Jazz Singer' is not in the school’s library of available movies. I found it on a private server in Maine. Most of the pictures came from the servers for Immigration Services in New York.
"Second, the people in the pictures came to America in a search for freedom, of one form or another. The people of Salt Lake have had their freedom brutally taken from them; not by an oppressive government but rather by a gangster who is being mistakenly protected by those who should be protecting the people. The people as a group don't know why their freedom has been taken; they only know that it has been taken. The only people who know why are in this school, and the only people who have the resources and means to correct this problem, to free the people of Salt Lake from the gangster’s oppression, are in this room."
"That was a very moving presentation, Matilda," came a voice from the darkness. "Unfortunately, under the rules and bylaws of our organization we are prohibited from taking direct action in this matter. The only course of action open to us is to turn this information over to our contact in the US Marshal's office, and let them conduct their own investigation into these allegations."
"Exactly what does that mean?" I asked.
"As I indicated, this information would be turned over to our contact within the US Marshal's office. They would then pass the information to their Internal Affairs division who would conduct an investigation. Those guilty would then be tried for their crimes."
"And what about the Santino family?"
"It would be the Marshal's responsibility to deal with them."
"And if word of an investigation leaks out the Santino's will take their money and disappear, laughing in the face of justice," I expounded.
"There is that risk, but that is the only course of action open to us. What money are you talking about?"
"The last time I added up the total of all the bank accounts, local, national, and international, under their various names, it was a staggering number. At last count they controlled and had ready access to approximately $23,675,982 plus change."
"I agree, that is a staggering amount. Unfortunately, there isn't anything else we can do."
Sadly, I looked at the floor of the stage for several seconds, shaking my head. The silence was almost deafening.
Slowly I lifted my head, speaking clearly I answered, "I'd hoped that things would have turned out differently." A moment later I called out loudly, "Joshua, video two please."
A moment later the stage lights went off. Two seconds after that all the different screens went black for a moment. When the screens came back on they displayed two men in the National Archives museum, standing before and looking down at the Declaration of Independence.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPiXax0S3vY
When video two concluded, I opened a command window on the laptop and typed in the command 'Purge LJM'.
"Matilda, what are you doing?" RJ asked, while a question came from the darkness, "What was the significance of that video, Matilda?"
Turning to RJ, I replied, "Making sure I’m not leaving any fingerprints behind." Turning to face the darkness, I replied, "Gentlemen, the last line spoken made my point very clearly. Those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action. Being that this body isn't able to take the necessary action to see that justice is done, someone else will have to take on that responsibility. Therefore, short of compromising the security of this school and the safety of her students, I will take whatever action is necessary to insure that the Santino's are brought to justice." After making that statement I turned and started off stage.
As cries of alarm echoed off the walls, one voice reached the stage with absolute clarity. "What are you planning to do, Matilda."
Just at the edge of the pool of light I stopped and turned back to the audience. "My plan is relatively simple, Mr. Black. I know someone, who knows someone in the Salt Lake County, Attorney General’s office. I'm pretty sure they would be interested in this information. Bart and his family will be behind bars before the US Marshal's office knows what is going on. Then the Salt Lake Attorney General's office can then pass on this information to the US Marshal's office. My question to you is, where should I transfer their money?"
"What do you mean, transfer their money?" someone asked.
"Well, if the Santino's have access to their money, they'll hire some unscrupulous lawyer who will buy an equally unscrupulous judge and they would be out on bail within an hour of their arrest. Once released from custody they will take their money and disappear. They will again assume new identities and start their reign of terror all over again. So, while the police are doing their job, I will transfer the money out of their accounts, close the accounts, in essence make it appear that they never existed. I just need to know where to send the money."
Everything was quiet for several seconds, so I concluded by saying, "Gentlemen, thank you for coming. Good day."
With that said, I made a polite curtsey and headed for the stage right, backstage, door. Nobody called my name or came after me, so I kept walking. Once outside the stage door, I leaned against a wall and took a deep breath.
'Did I really do and say all of those things, and to the people who run and control the school. I must be out of my mind. Heck, they're probably the top people in the S.P.A. at least as far as the US organization. I know you can't be expelled from Immigration Manor; they wouldn't want anyone talking about how they operate. I wonder if I should start sleeping with one eye open. One thing is for sure, Mary Beth is going to freak out when I tell her what I've done.'
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
You Tube didn't go online until mid February of 2005. And you will note that this chapter takes place a month before that date. Therefore, Matilda would have searched the internet and put together the two videos from what she found. Being that I'm not as skilled as Matilda, I cheated by using the You Tube links. I hope you have enjoyed our little presentation.
Education in the Hills - chapter 34
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Who ever heard of a rich Munchkin?
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 34
By Penny Reed Cardon
I checked with the locator system to find the person I wanted. Yes I know I wasn’t supposed to know about or use the locator system, but at that point, I didn’t think I could get into too much more trouble. In fact, even though Miss Trouble was holding my hand, I was leading her for a change. Going downstairs, I knocked on Ellen's office door. It was only a moment before I heard a pleasant, "Come in."
As I entered and closed the door, Ellen greeted me, "Good afternoon Matilda." After seeing the expression on my face, she added, "I thought we weren't going to be seeing a depressed Munchkin anymore?"
"Oh, this isn't my depressed face," I answered, as I started pacing back and forth across the room. "This is my, ‘I’m mad at the whole world’ face. Combined with my, 'How could I be so stupid' face. Not to mention my, 'OH JEEZ, how did I let them take advantage of me again' face. I must have ‘SCKER’ tattooed on me somewhere. Boy, did they see me coming and take advantage of me. I can't believe I'm really that naive and gullible."
"Matilda, what are you talking about, who took advantage of you?"
"The S. P. A., that's who. They sure know how to manipulate people to get what they want. Then they just discard the leftovers, as if we were just some old broken dolls."
Ellen had moved to a couch, while I was ranting. "Matilda, come over here, sit down, and tell me what's going on," she pleaded.
I stopped pacing and looked into Ellen's eyes. Shaking my head, I went over and sat next to her. "That's better," she said. "Now, calmly tell me what's happened."
"I feel like such an idiot. I come to Immigration Manor. I meet lots of friendly people. I start to get comfortable. I relax a little bit. I delude myself into thinking that I’m safe here. I let my survival instincts start to relax a little. Then suddenly out of nowhere, WHAM; they make a fool of me and I’m humiliated more than I’ve ever been humiliated in my life."
"Who made a fool of you?"
"The S. P. A., Mr. Black, Mr. Peterson. Well, I don't know if Mr. Peterson was in on it or not."
"Exactly, how did they make a fool of you?"
"Before Thanksgiving, Mr. Black told me that taking care of Bart and his family was approved and would be taken care of, after we helped Sally and her family. I just came from a meeting with the S. P. A., now they tell me, there's nothing they can do."
"What do you mean, there's nothing they can do?"
"That's what they said. All they are willing to do is turn the information I’ve collected; over to the US Marshals and let them conduct their own investigation. That means when the mole hears about an investigation, whoever the mole is, they will spread the word and the Santinos will take their money and disappear. I guess that's the face of justice today, the victims are punished and the guilty run free, laughing in the face of today's justice system. I guess that is why most of the statues, I’ve seen, of Lady Justice, that she’s blindfolded, so she can’t see them laughing."
"That's not how the justice system works, Matilda, and you know it."
"I thought I did,” I was quiet for a few moments, and then continued. “Yes, I do know better. It's just so frustrating, how slow the wheels of justice turn."
"Now, on that point I'll agree with you. So what's your plan now?"
"Well, we could go back to plan A. Kidnap Walter and take him to the G.I.R.L. Center."
"Girl center?"
"Great Indian River Learning Center. It's in the Midwest someplace. Remember, I told you I'd found several references to it; while I was researching something else. Of course, that wouldn't take care of Mr. And Mrs. Santino. If Walter disappeared, they would probably take out their anger on everybody around them."
"I'm sure you're right about that. If my memory serves me correctly, plan C was to have the S.P.A. take care of the problem, after you had concrete proof. Is there a plan D?"
"Now that you mention it, I have been working on another idea."
"I thought you might be."
"Do you still have a contact at the Salt Lake County, Attorney General's office?"
"Actually, my connection is with the Salt Lake County, District Attorney's office, why?"
"My mistake. Do you think they would be interested in documentation, proving beyond a reasonable doubt, that Walter and his family are not the people that the witness protection program are supposed to be protecting?"
"Wait a second . . . They're not . . . Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Would you like to see the documentation?"
"I would indeed."
"May I borrow your computer?" I asked, as I pulled a flash drive out of my pocket.
"Be my guest, this should be enlightening."
Together, we went over the information I'd collected. As we were discussing what could and couldn't be used by the District Attorney's office, due to the less than legal means of acquisition, there was a solid knock on Ellen's door. I was momentarily torn, between my instinct to hide under the desk and the belief that Ellen could protect me.
Caution was thrown to the wind, when Ellen called out, "Come in."
The door opened and in walked Mr. Black and Mr. Peterson. Seeing Ellen and me behind the desk, they crossed to stand on the opposite side of the desk. I was standing in front of the computer monitor while Ellen was seated next to me.
"Ellen, you trust her with your computer?" Mr. Black inquired.
"At the moment, gentlemen, I trust Matilda more than I trust either of you," Ellen replied sharply.
Both gentlemen looked stunned, as if they'd been slapped.
"Please be seated," Ellen added.
'Gee, this is kind of fun - me being on this side of the desk, while they’re sitting in the straight back chairs'
"Now then, what can we do for you?" Ellen asked.
Somewhat humbly, Mr. Peterson began the conversation, "We've - um, we've come to apologize."
"To whom?" Ellen asked, after a moment of silence.
"We've come to apologize to Matilda," Mr. Black replied. "We had an arrangement, even though it cost Matilda personally more than either of us will ever be able to fully comprehend, she kept her word and fulfilled her part of the bargain. However, due to circumstances beyond our control, we will not be able to live up to our end of the bargain."
"For that we are truly sorry," Mr. Peterson added.
I was shocked, amazed, stunned even, I stepped back and half sat, half leaned on the front corner of Ellen's padded desk chair.
"Can you tell us what happened to cause such a change in circumstances," Ellen asked, as she shifted her legs, to give me more room.
"As I'm sure you guessed, RJ kept us informed as Matilda's project progressed and its desired goal," Mr. Black explained.
"Well before she came to see me, we'd taken a rough proposal to the - umm," Mr. Peterson seemed a little tongue tied.
"Well, go ahead and spit it out. She knows almost as much about the organization as we do," Mr. Black told Mr. Peterson.
"That's true. We took the proposal to the US Advisory Board. They agreed with us that direct action needed to be taken. However, they did say that the situation, with Dr. Moreau would have to take priority because of the time constraints."
Mr. Black picked up the tale from there. "We knew, that as soon as Matilda had all her preparatory work completed, we would be putting some sort of action plan together. Towards that end, just after Christmas, we started examining our options. That's when the International Oversight Committee heard what we were planning. On January second, the IOC arrived, unannounced at the US headquarters. They reassigned all three members of the US advisory committee to other duties, within the organization. The IOC have been running the US operation since then. They declared that the situation with Bart and his family, is strictly a US domestic issue and therefore the organization will take no official action."
"No official action?" I repeated, questioningly.
"Those were their exact words," Mr. Peterson confirmed.
"Leaving the door open for some unofficial action," I thought aloud. Turning to Ellen I continued, "It could work out even better this way."
"I agree. It should definitely simplify the operation," Ellen agreed. "Thank you, gentlemen, for explaining the situation to Matilda and me. Matilda, is there something you'd like to say?"
"Yes. Thank you, I accept your apology. It is now clear that you had every intention of fulfilling your agreement. I would also like to apologize to you, for the things I was saying about you."
"What were you saying about us?" Mr. Black asked.
"It doesn't matter now. They were words spoken in anger and after hearing your explanation, they were totally unjustified," I replied.
"Very well, apology accepted," Mr. Peterson replied. "All too often things are said in the heat of anger, that wouldn't even be thought otherwise."
"Very true," Ellen commented.
"Well, I guess we'll be leaving, that's pretty much all we had to say," Mr. Peterson said as he stood up.
Just before they reached the door, Mr. Black turned and asked, "Would you care to tell us what you're planning?"
"Not at this time," I replied. "But, when the time is right, I will require a small favor from each of you.
They both looked a little nervous, but said nothing more, as they left.
As the office door closed, I looked at Ellen and she looked at me. "That was totally unexpected," I commented.
"Totally. At least, I wouldn't have expected such an admission in my lifetime," Ellen added. "Matilda, I was thinking, the fact that some of your documentation was obtained illegally shouldn't be a problem. After all, we're not talking about taking the Witness Protection system to court, before a judge and jury. We just have to prove in court that the Santino family has been living under an assumed identity as the Roberts. That can be proven with legally obtained documentation. As for the US Marshals, the information you have, will prove that they have a problem. Of course, because of how you obtained the information, it would indicate they have two problems. Either way, the District Attorney should be able to take the needed action, based on what you have."
"That's great. It means I won't have to teach them how to hack into the US Marshal's system. All I need to do, is set up an automated program, to transfer the Roberts considerable assets to other accounts. The question is, where do I put twenty million dollars?"
"I thought you said they had almost twenty-four million?" Ellen questioned.
"Yes, well, a girl needs a little mad money, if she's going shopping with her friends," I replied with a smile.
Ellen was shocked, "Matilda, you're not keeping almost four million dollars!"
"Of course I am not," I calmly replied. "That's blood money; every dollar they stashed away, represents someone they squeezed, or someone who was in pain. I wouldn't keep a dime for myself. Four million is what I'm planning to give away to people who can benefit from it."
"Just what do you mean by that?"
"I thought we'd give one hundred thousand to each elementary school in Salt Lake Valley. The rest would be divided up between the various non-profit organizations, that help troubled and abused children. I'll leave compiling a list those organizations, in your hands."
"Very commendable, I should have known better. How soon will you need that list?"
"By the middle of next week. We'll need time to do the programming."
Ellen and I talked for another twenty minutes, after which I went, to the cafeteria, to join Year A for dinner.
I waited until we went back to the Year A lounge, before discussing the events that took place that afternoon. I thought that if I told Mary Beth and the Black Sheep, all at the same time, what had happened during my meeting with the S.P.A. leadership, Mary Beth wouldn't get overly excited, or outspoken. Which was really a nice way of saying, I hoped she wouldn't freak out, because they took advantage of me. I was wrong, especially when I related what I said, before walking out the stage door. Mary Beth became so excited, that a couple of our friends had to restrain her. There was talk about having one of the nurses come over to give her a sedative. Not to mention, that I had several offers of someplace to sleep, until she cooled off, if she cooled off. I thanked everyone for their concern and kindness, but I reassured them, that I wasn’t in any danger. Mary Beth wasn't mad at me, she was mad, because I had agreed to play the part of Sally, in exchange for the S.P.A. taking care of Bart and his parents, and now they weren't going to do anything.
Mary Beth's anger subsided quickly after I told everyone about Mr. Peterson and Mr. Black apologizing to me, in front of Ellen. In fact, most of year A was in shock and didn't believe that such an historical moment had occurred. I went on to explain that, because the IOC declared the matter strictly a US internal affair, and that they would take no official action, Ellen and I were planning some unofficial action. I reminded everyone of their desire to help with Bart's capture; and asked if they were still willing to help. My question was answered by an overwhelming yes. I told them that before the end of the month, I would be taking them up on their offer.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Sunday afternoon, I'd arranged for a meeting with Janice, the year H computer specialist, and Kimberley, the year F computer specialist.
"Thank you both for coming," I said, as they arrived.
"No problem, Matilda," Kimberley replied.
"Not to mention that your invitation was most intriguing. It's not often I'm invited to a meeting, by someone from year A," Janice added.
"So, what can we do for you?" Kimberley asked.
"Basically, I need a little help with some programming. The goal of the endeavor, is to commandeer and redistribute approximately twenty-four million dollars," I calmly replied.
"You want us to help you steal twenty-four million dollars? You're crazy, you should be locked up" Kimberley declared.
"I was going to say insane, and if she does this, she probably will be locked up," Janice added.
"On the surface and without all of the information, it might appear that way. If you will allow me to explain, I'm quite sure you will want to help with this little project."
I spent the next hour telling them the whole story of Black Bart and his horrible parents, now known by their real names. I showed them the track marks on my neck, as Ellen called them. I also laid out my plans for Walter's arrest, and where the money will go. After they'd digested all the information, they both agreed that the Santinos must be stopped, and they both agreed to help. Janice even agreed to discuss my request, for the help from the Beta Team with the other members. Both Janice and Kimberley were extremely surprised, that I even knew about the Beta Team.
"They thought you were going to keep all that money?" Mary Beth exclaimed, when I told her how my meeting with Janice and Kimberley went.
"Well you have to admit, the way I started the conversation would tend to give that impression," I replied. "But once they heard the whole story, they were more than willing to join the team. I just hope the rest of the Beta Team will join in, as well. I really want the group going after Walter, to be all students."
"Matilda, would you tell me again how this is supposed to work?"
"Of course, first, we create some computer programming, that will go into every bank where the Santinos have money. Then one command, will transfer the money out of their accounts, and deposit it into some accounts that we control. Just so the transfers can't be tracked, the money will be transferred through three, or four, other banks, before being transferred into the S.P.A. accounts. Second, once the programming is ready, but not executed, Ellen and I will pay a visit to someone she knows, at the Salt Lake County, District Attorney's Office. We will give them the documents, that prove that the Roberts are not the people, that the Witness Protection program, is supposed to be protecting. We're guessing they will be happy to know, the Santinos can be arrested. Then I'll present my plan to show, how we can separate the family members, so they can be arrested, without anyone being shot at. I mean, you've heard Walter brag about how many guns his dad has, haven't you?"
"I don't remember how many, but there were a lot. We're doing this to protect people so I'd feel really bad, if anyone got shot because of us."
"I agree. The information about the guns, is something that the police don't know. After all is said and done, I want two things to have happened. First, I want everyone to know, that the justice system works, and that the Santinos will pay for their crimes against society. Second, I want the Santinos to know that it was some of their victims, that brought about their downfall."
Monday, January 17, 2005
Mr. Peterson greeted everyone, as they were arriving for breakfast. It was a little different, but not unheard of. As I entered, he asked, "Good morning, Matilda. How is the project coming?"
I replied a little cryptically "The recruiting effort is going very well."
Mr. Peterson had surprise written all over his face, so I elaborated. "After all, a sting operation of this magnitude; it's far too big a job for one small munchkin to handle on her own."
As we were eating, Jenny quietly asked, "Why are you being so mysterious with Mr. Peterson?"
"He knows I'm planning to do something about Walter, but he doesn't know what the plan is, or how many of his students will be involved. He also knows, he owes me a favor and I think he's a little nervous."
Later, when we were visiting with Rachael, we told her about the new plan to go after Walter. I also asked her, if she would be willing to testify against Walter, if necessary? She didn't like the idea of being dragged into a courtroom, in her current condition. I agreed with her on that point; and asked how she would feel about testifying via a closed circuit TV feed? After taking some time to think about the idea, she agreed.
Monday afternoon, I had a chance to talk with RJ, one on one, and successfully recruited him, as part of the programming team. He was still puzzled about how I'd managed to link into the outside networks, from the dedicated laptop, and network he'd set up, the previous Saturday. I figured he'd stewed about it long enough, and confessed that the only thing I'd linked to was my PDA, which had access to all the networks. But how did I link the laptop to my PDA he demanded. Reluctantly, I admitted to going through a wide open back door, he'd left for me, the Bluetooth port of the laptop. RJ was stunned, that I was able to do so much over a Bluetooth link. He said, he'd never make that mistake again. I told him that hopefully we'd never be faced with those circumstances again.
For the next seven days RJ, Janice, Kimberley, and I spent every spare moment working on the program to move the Santino’s money; close the accounts; and shut down the cell phone accounts. Ellen had managed to get us a copy of the computer records from the estate in West Valley City, that had been raided the previous October. In those records we found emails to and from someone referred to as ‘Mr. Big’. It took some doing, but we tracked those emails back to their source. We were all real happy, when it turned out to be the Santino’s home computer. Amazingly, we found a list of all the banks, domestic, and international, where they had accounts, along with the account numbers. That made our job a lot easier, because we didn't have to explore every bank in existence.
The following Tuesday evening, during our regular appointment with Ellen, I announced that we were ready to talk with the District Attorney. We also went over our alternate distraction and capture plan, using all of Year A as the diversion, and nobody getting hurt. Of course, I did leave out one small detail, that I knew Ellen would object to, but it was something that would absolutely keep Walter's attention, for the required amount of time.
Wednesday, January 26, 5005
At 10:00 am, Ellen and I left Immigration Manor. I was a little nervous, Ellen on the other hand, appeared very confident. I wasn't exactly sure how our meeting with the District Attorney would turn out, but it was our last best hope, for an end to the Santinos reign of terror. We arrived at the county offices just after 11:00 o’clock.
"Good morning," Ellen said, as we entered the District Attorney's outer office.
"Good morning, ma'am. May I help you?" the secretary replied.
"You're new here, aren't you?" Ellen asked. Actually it almost sounded like a statement of fact.
The secretary seemed a little shocked, but hesitantly answered, "Yes. I'm Cindy. I've only been here for three weeks. Mr. Rothman's regular secretary, Marsha, is out on maternity leave."
"Oh, and it's about time too. From her size, I figured she was due two months ago," Ellen said.
"You know Marsha?" Cindy asked.
"Yes. I stop by every month or so, to see Mr. Rothman. Would you let him know that Ellen Hansen is here? He's expecting me."
"Of course ma'am." Picking up the phone, Cindy waited for a moment, before saying, "Excuse me sir, an Ellen Hansen is here to see you. Yes sir." At which point she hung up the phone. "He'll be with you in a few minutes."
"Thank you," Ellen said, and then she sat in one of the chairs that lined one wall.
Not seeing any reason why I should be the only one standing, I sat next to Ellen, to wait, and wait, and wait, and wait. It was only ten minutes before the door opened, but with nothing to do, it seemed like it was much longer.
The door opened and two men came out, one was wearing a police uniform. "Thanks for coming by Fred," the man in the suit said, to the officer. "I know how much it bothers you and the rest of the department, treating those three with 'hands off' status. For right now, that's all we can do. I have heard a rumor that their status may change in the future, nothing concrete mind you, so don't hold your breath."
"Thanks, Lance. I know you're frustrated too. I'll see you around," Fred stated. They shook hands and he left.
"Ellen, come on in," Mr. Rothman said, with a smile.
We entered the office and Mr. Rothman closed the door.
"So, Ellen, who's your friend?"
"Lance, I'd like you to meet Matilda. Matilda, this is Lance Rothman."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Matilda," he said, as he bent down to shake my hand. Rotating his head to look at Ellen, he added, "She is a cute little thi -"
"Lance, No," Ellen interrupted - too late.
"OOO,OUCH," Mr. Rothman complained, as he let go of my hand and hobbled to his desk.
"Lance, I'm sorry about that. I should have warned you not to call her little," Ellen apologized.
"That's okay sis. I'll forgive her, if she can do what you claimed she can do," he said.
"I'm sorry Mr. Rothman,” I said, very apologetically. “It's a reflex action, that I'm working on controlling. Wait a second, did you call her sis, as in sister?"
"Yes, Matilda. Lance is my younger brother," Ellen explained.
"Oh, I didn't realize he was your brother. There is a certain resemblance."
Mr. Rothman was quiet for several moments before asking, “Matilda, Matilda. I remember something about a Matilda, yes. That was the name of a young girl that was hospitalized, after attempting to commit suicide. And that was after her father beat her senseless. He was later charged and convicted of sexual abuse, abuse, battery, and domestic abuse.”
“You have quite the memory,” I sadly replied
“This is that Matilda, Lance,” Ellen stated. “She’s come a long way since then and is quite the gifted young lady.”
"Well, tell me Matilda, is what Ellen told me correct? Are the Roberts not who the US Marshals think they are, and can you prove it?"
"That's correct, Mr. Rothman. The family that the US Marshals are supposed to be protecting, is the Aric Marsh family from Pennsylvania. In actuality, they are protecting the Santino family from Chicago."
"Santino, Santino?" Mr. Rothman asked, and I nodded. "I remember something about a case that was dropped, are you talking about the same Santino?" Again, I nodded. "I assume you have proof to back up that accusation."
"Yes, they are that Santino family, and yes, I have the proof to back up that statement," I replied, pulling a flash drive out of my pocket. "If I may?"
"May, may what?" Mr. Rothman asked.
"Matilda would like to borrow your computer," Ellen explained.
"Oh, yes, of course," Mr. Rothman said, as he moved to the side, giving me space to work. "You're not going to do anything crazy, are you?"
"No sir. No craziness, no viruses, no mischief, and no snooping, at least - not today."
"Just for today?"
"Well, okay, this week," I reply with a giggle. Turning serious, I asked, "Do you have a written description of Mr. Roberts?"
"I don't need a written description, I've met the man. Someone you don't easily forget."
"I agree. First, look at this newspaper article, from the Chicago Tribune."
"That's the Santinos, no question about it. It's also the family we know as the Roberts. That doesn't mean they're not who they're supposed to be. Or that they're not in the Witness Protection program."
"You are correct. Mr. Rothman. This only proves that the Santinos and the Roberts, are indeed the same people." I displayed my next piece of evidence. Now, if you'll take a look at this file, from the US Marshal's office in Washington?"
"The US Marshal's? How on earth did you get your hands on that information?" he asked.
"There are some questions, that are better left unanswered," I calmly replied.
"You hacked your way into the US Marshal's network?" Mr. Rothman was becoming a little agitated. "Sis, I can't use this information. It was obtained illegally, and can never be presented in court."
"Lance, who do you want to prosecute and put behind bars, the Santinos, the US Marshals, or a ten year old victim?" Ellen asked, her brother. He sat quietly, staring at Ellen for several seconds, before she continued, "As I understand the law, all you have to do, is prove that the Santinos have been living under an assumed name for the last four years. That newspaper article, along with the other public records, that Matilda has collected, will prove that without question, or dispute. When the US Marshals step in, to prevent prosecution, that's when the rest of the information will be needed. You can give it to them to prove that they have a problem and need to clean house."
"Are you sure you're not after my job, sis?" He finally asked.
"No thanks, dear brother, besides, if I took your job, who would keep track of Matilda?"
"Do I require being kept track of?" I asked.
"Only when you're awake, Matilda. Only when you're awake," Ellen teased and chuckled.
After we returned to the matter at hand, I showed Mr. Rothman the rest of the documents. As each document was displayed, I explained the significance of each, and the relationship in the overall speculation that the mob had paid off one or more people, within the ranks of the US Marshals. At the end of my presentation, Mr. Rothman sat quietly for some time; I assumed he was still digesting all the information.
I let several minutes of silence pass, before I asked, "Do you have any questions, or is there anything you'd like me to go over again?"
"No, I'm just thinking about how and when, to take them down," he replied.
"There's some more information you need to have, before you put the lives of brave police officers on the line. Bart, I mean Walter, has bragged many times about how many guns his father has. I don't have any firsthand information, but I would assume that there's enough firepower at the Santino home, to make any assault costly, very costly. Not to mention they are in the middle of a very populated subdivision."
"I was thinking along those same lines. Wondering about how much of an arsenal Santino might have. Taking them into custody might present a problem," Mr. Rothman admitted.
"I have an idea that might make it possible, without anyone getting hurt," I said.
"Really, and just what might that be?"
"Well, because of something that happened to some friends of ours, last month, I've come to realize, that knowing where they are isn't as important as knowing where they will be. I can arrange to have each member of the family, at a specific location alone and isolated."
"You can do what - and you'll do this all by yourself?"
"Heavens no. I wouldn't even consider being alone with any of them, I have too much to live for. Besides, Ellen would never allow me to act so stupidly. However, -" I then laid out my plan in detail, for the apprehension and arrests of Mr. Santino, Mrs. Santino, and Walter, not necessarily in that order.
"After Mrs. Santino is taken into custody, it would be a good time to search the house, looking for additional evidence, about their involvement in the child pornography and child sex trafficking, that was going on at the estate, in West Valley. By the way, you should also look for evidence connecting them to similar establishments; one in Ogden and one in Provo."
"Are you telling me, that there are two more of those, those . . . I don't even know what to call them. Child sex dungeons, would be the about the most accurate, but even that doesn't come close to describing what those poor children are subjected to in those places."
"I agree with you completely, Lance," Ellen said. "And yes, Matilda has evidence that there are two more such dungeons. Her evidence wouldn't be admissible, so you'll need to discover their existence on your own. I would suggest a search warrant, for computers and computer records, looking for a connection that would tie the Santinos to the estate in West Valley, which was raided last October. Now then, when your people are going through the computer records and the computer records, produce information about two additional locations; that information should be admissible."
The room was silent for a few moments.
"Matilda, about your capture plan. You're suggesting that I take armed officers into an elementary school, putting the lives of those students at risk?"
"Well, they do say timing is everything. And the time would be just at the end of lunch on Friday. Walter doesn't care if he's late getting back to class, and the ten minutes that it would take Mr. Santino to travel from his house to the school, should be enough time to evacuate the classrooms near the office, so there shouldn't be any students in danger. I know that Principal Purcell, the teachers, and all the students would be cheering, to see Black Bart arrested and taken away," I added.
Mr. Rothman thought about the idea for a couple of minutes before asking, "What about you and the other students, won't Walter be too much to handle? He is rather on the large side."
"Oh, I don't think he'll be any problem. There will be twenty, um, fourth grade students to provide a distraction, Bart has a thing for little girls in school uniforms. The other eight students, will be from tenth to twelfth grades, they will be responsible for detaining Bart, until the officers arrive." I didn't know how much Ellen's brother knew about Immigration Manor, so I'd converted the years to the more customary grade system.
"Well, you've really thought this through. Is there any more information we should be aware of?" he asked.
"I think that covers everything," I replied.
"Very well. Let me think about this for a while and I'll get back to you. I'll also need to discuss this with Principal Purcell at Whittier, and the Chief of Police. I know we want to remove this plague from our community, and you have made a compelling case and an interesting offer. One last question, does Walter jr carry any weapons?"
"I'm pretty sure he doesn't carry a gun, at least not at school. He has threatened smaller students with a knife, on many occasions. More than that, I don't know," I replied.
"Very well," he said, after a moment of silence. "Thank you both for coming to see me. I'll give you a call this evening sis, and let you know what's been decided."
We said our goodbyes and left, leaving the flash drive with Mr. Rothman.
After dinner, I was telling the Black Sheep of the meeting with Mr. Rothman, when Ellen called my PDA. "Hello Ellen."
"Matilda, I just heard from my brother. The Chief of Police has some concerns."
"Isn't that his job, to have some concerns?" I asked.
"I do believe its part of the job description. Principal Purcell, on the other hand, was very excited about the idea. He told Lance that they'd move everyone in that wing, of the school, to the gymnasium immediately after lunch, so the officers wouldn't have students to worry about."
"I sort of knew that everyone at Whittier would do almost anything to see Bart gone."
"It certainly sounds that way to me."
"So, we’re on for this Friday, they'll have the paperwork ready?"
"Yes, that's what Lance said. Given the circumstances and the options, no one came up with a plan that had fewer overall risks. So your plan is a go."
"I guess it's time to ask Mr. Peterson for a favor. I'll send him a note requesting a meeting tomorrow."
"I'll leave that up to you. Good night Matilda."
"Good night."
Returning my attention to the group, "All right gang, it looks like we have a go on operation ‘Free SLC’ for Friday. I'll pass the word to our chaperones and arrange for transportation with Mr. Peterson. Other than those two items, we'll have a final mission briefing Friday morning, right before breakfast. Does everyone remember the agreed upon costume, for the distraction mission?" Everyone nodded. "Great. Does anyone have a problem or concern, with the distraction plan?"
Hope raised her hand.
"Yes Hope, do you have a problem with the distraction plan?" Jenny asked.
"Not with the plan itself, my question is about the weather. Does anyone know what the weather forecast is, or what the temperature is going to be? It could be a little chilly in just our school skirts, blouse, blazers, and knee socks," Hope stated.
"Hopefully, we shouldn't be outside for more than fifteen minutes, but that is valid point," I conceded. "Wally, you usually keep track of the weather, do you know what the forecast is for Friday afternoon?"
"Not off the top of my head," he replied, as he got out his PDA. After checking something, I assumed a weather forecast web site, he reported, "There should be clear skies and sunshine, over the Salt Lake Valley, with an estimated high, of thirty-five to forty-five degrees."
"That sounds a bit cold," Abbey complained.
"Just a bit nippy," I agreed. "But like I said, we shouldn't be outside, without our coats, for more than fifteen, to twenty minutes."
"I guess we'll survive," Deanna moaned sarcastically.
"Any chance of getting some hot chocolate afterwards?" Barb asked.
"We should be able to get some, when we stop for lunch," George offered.
"Where are we going for lunch?" Walter inquired.
"That hasn't been decided yet, in fact, I haven't asked Mr. Peterson yet. I'll talk with him tomorrow," I replied. "Anything else?"
Abbey asked, "Are you sure that four will be enough? In the narration, that was with the movie, Hayley said, she thought she had used fifteen."
"Of course, you're welcome to use as many as you want," I answered. "I know what I'm asking is a bit bizarre and I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable. Everyone is free to use as many as it takes for them to be comfortable, with what we're planning to do."
There weren't any other questions or concerns; so we broke up into smaller groups, to do their own thing, before heading to the auditorium for choir practice.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
"Good morning, Matilda. What can I do for you today?" Mr. Peterson asked, as I was admitted into his office. He was seated behind his desk, so I walked over and sat in one of the straight back chairs, opposite him. I knew I wasn't in trouble, I also knew this was going to be a short meeting.
"Good morning. I've come too asked for a favor," I pleasantly replied.
"And just what might that be?"
"I'd like for you to okay a fieldtrip for Year A."
"A fieldtrip, and just where would you like to go?" he asked suspiciously.
"As I'm sure you're aware, we are currently studying US History, the era of the Westward migration by the early settlers. We were thinking a visit to Pioneer Village, would be an interesting and educational enhancement to that class."
"Pioneer Village?"
"It's a historical museum, that's maintained by the LDS Church. They have several pioneer cabins, barns, and other relics dating back to the earliest settlements, in the Utah area."
"I see. Well, I suppose something along that line could be arranged. Next week, or perhaps the following week we would -"
"No, no, no," I interrupted, shaking my head. "Not next week - tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? I'm afraid that's totally out of the question. We couldn't possibly arrange for chaperones and transportation, on such short notice."
"Tomorrow!" I repeated. "I've already arranged for eight chaperones. Tomorrow morning at about 10:45 am, Year A and eight escorts from Years E through H, will be leaving in two of the fifteen passenger vans. I'm sure several of the older students, are capable of handling the vans, with care and competence. So that also takes care of the transportation issue. Here is a list of the selected escorts." I handed my PDA to Mr. Peterson.
For some strange reason, his eyes got bigger as he read through the list of names. "Would you care to explain how you came up with that list of names?"
"Mr. Peterson, do you really need to ask that question?" I asked rhetorically. "They all know what the mission is, and they've all volunteered to take part."
"Mission? You mean to tell me that you're not going to Pioneer Village? Does this have something to do with -"
"Mr. Peterson, all you need to know is, that you approved of a fieldtrip for Year A, they will be escorted by eight upper class students, and that I'm calling in on the favor you owe me."
"I understand, plausible deniability. Is there anything else you need?"
"Well, we'll be stopping for lunch someplace. Knowing her other role, besides that of head girl, does Suzanne have an expense account?"
He became very serious, "On official outings, she's provided with funds, sufficient to cover any unforeseen expenses."
"Yes, but this is an unofficial outing, and it wasn't sanctioned by a, um - higher authority. Therefore, I will assume the normal arrangements will not be available. That being the case - I'll leave it to you to make whatever arrangements are necessary."
"Matilda, are any of our students going to be in danger?"
"No sir, our students will not be in any danger, what so ever. There will be some guns displayed, in a building, that we'll be a short distance away from, hopefully they will not have to be used. However, no one from here will be in range of, or within proximity to, any of the firearms, while they are not holstered. One large and rather grumpy individual, is known to carry a knife, but I'll take the odds of twenty-eight to one, any day of the week."
"I see. Well, I guess all I can say is, enjoy your visit to Pioneer Village. I'll have a talk with Suzanne and arrange for some funding. Is there anything else?"
"Thank you. I believe that's everything."
"Very well, after you get back, I'd like you to come tell me about the trip."
"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow evening, then," I replied, as I got up to leave.
Yes, it was a short meeting, almost a waste of time sitting down for such a short meeting. On my way to lunch, I sent a note to Ellen, confirming that we were a go for Friday's activity. She then confirmed with Mr. Rothman, that everything would be ready, and that we would meet him at the school at 12:15 pm.
Just before the Black Sheep broke up for the evening, heading to their respective rooms, George asked, "Do we need to be dressed in our diversion costumes for breakfast, in the morning?"
"You can if you want to, but there will be time after your specialty training to change," I answered. "One more item I need to mention. Mr. Peterson did approve of us going to lunch somewhere in the city, before coming back here." There was a lot of cheering, when I announced we'd be going to lunch.
When the cheering died down, I continued, "We don't get out that often, so I think we should go someplace nice. I guess the next question should be, where do we want to go, that is, what do we want to eat?" Instantly suggestions started flying. Waving my hands got things quieted down. "To avoid everyone yelling out their desires, everyone send me a note, and I'll try to find someplace that will appeal to the majority."
"One last item, MayBee reminded me, that some of you might feel uncomfortable in the specified costume, for longer than necessary, so if you'd like to change your clothes, or to simply remove anything you feel is in excess, you're more than welcome to bring your travel bag with whatever you feel is appropriate. We should be able to change in the restroom stalls at the school, before heading out for lunch."
"Matilda, is this plan of yours really going to work?” Mary Beth asked, as we crawled into bed.
"Which part?"
"The whole thing?"
"Yes, I think everything should work out just fine. The diversion should keep Walter’s attention, until the Beta team can capture him."
"Catching Walter isn't the issue. Can the legal system do, what it’s supposed to do, and keep them locked up?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I guess that's going to be up to Mr. Rothman. We can only do what we can do."
"Good night, Munchkin."
"Good night, MayBee."
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 35
Author:
Caution:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
Caution – Non-consensual sexual activities – Caution
Caution - overheard via speaker phone - Caution
Entrapment is such an ugly word.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter # 35
By Penny Reed Cardon
Friday, January 28, 2005
The day had finally come. The day that so much time, planning, and preparation had gone into was finally upon us. The Santino's reign of terror would be coming to an end and all the friends we left behind would be free. Every detail had planned out, every contingency had been considered, and all the options had been covered, at least everything that anyone had thought of. I wished that someone could have told me why I was so nervous.
Everyone was just a bit subdued during the mornings ‘Pilots Briefing’ as Jenny went through the day’s agenda. Just to be on the safe side, I asked each of the Black Sheep how many items they were planning to use. I'm not sure how it could have happened, but for some strange reason the Black Sheep were on time for breakfast.
The students from Years B and C were surprised to see eight of the upper year students in the cafeteria, for breakfast. I guess most of them had heard the rumors of the mystery group. Not to mention that they had their suspicions as to the identities of the members. I'm sure that seeing all eight of them together, in the same place at the same time, would be more fuel for the rumor mills.
“Good morning, Matilda,” RJ greeted me, as I entered the computer lab.
“Good morning, RJ, Janice, Kimberly. I’m surprised to see you two here.”
“Where else would we be this morning,” Kimberly replied.
“After all, Matilda, there's only a little more than two hours before lift-off,” Janice added.
“Thanks, all of you. I could never have done this without your help,” I told them.
RJ added his thoughts, “Matilda, I think I can speak for everyone that’s part of this operation when I say we are pleased we could help. We know that getting involved and putting these people away is the right thing to do. Shall we get started? We have a lot of last minute checks to make.”
“That we do,” I agreed.
“Okay, first off we need to check and verify that there hasn’t been any additional security added, to any of the targeted institutions. Kimberly, you take the local banks, make sure we can get in and that our programming can access the targeted accounts. Janice, you take the national banks. Matilda and I will take the international banks and the cell phone companies. After we’re done with those we’ll split up the public records. When we’re finished, the Roberts family will never have existed.”
“Right,” Kimberly said, as she sat down at one of the computer stations.
“Will do,” Janice replied, sitting down at a different station.
“Matilda, before we begin, I want to exchange your PDA.”
“But I thought my PDA was one of the newest models?”
“It is, for an on campus PDA. The one I’m setting you up with, is for off campus activity.”
“I thought Aaron would be doing the PDA exchange, just before we leave, like he’s done before.”
“He will be, for the rest of the year. For this trip you’ll need something with a few more capabilities than the standard travel PDA’s.”
I recognized the model PDA that RJ issued to me; I'd found reference to the different PDA's used by the school, on one of the servers. I knew better than to ask why RJ had issued me a Beta team PDA. By the time the three of us left RJ, we'd double checked all the programming and all the command sequences were loaded onto my PDA.
I rushed back to my room to change. I heard Mary Beth in her room, as I entered mine. "Are you ready MayBee?" I called out, as I went into my closest.
"Almost, I’m just slipping on my distraction costume. How was your time with RJ?" she called back.
"A little surprising," I replied, as I finished getting into my costume.
"Surprising, in what way?" she asked, no longer yelling. I could tell that she'd stepped through the interconnecting door.
I smoothed out my skirt and double checked that the hem hadn't been caught somewhere that would normally be embarrassing. Joining Mary Beth, I handed her the PDA that RJ had issued to me.
"That's not your PDA."
"No, and it isn't a normal travel PDA. It is the same model PDA that the Beta team uses."
"What? Are you telling me you've been drafted into the Beta team?"
"Not that I know of. RJ said, that I needed a PDA that had more capabilities, for this mission. Besides, according to all the rumors, they don't have any members younger than Year D."
"Well - okay. From what you've told me about them, I don't know if I want to be part of that group. We have enough problems and you get into enough trouble without being part of the mystery group."
"I don't think you have anything to worry about, at least for a few years. We'd better get moving, it wouldn't look very good for us to be late, considering that this party is for us."
"Party? We need to work on your idea of what a party is, Matilda. Trust me, what we're about to do is no party."
We grabbed our coats and headed for the year lounge.
"It may not seem like a party to you, but you can be sure that our old friends will be celebrating."
"I guess you're right about that."
"It's about time you two got here." Aaron complained, as we entered the lounge. "We've got to swap your PDA's and get moving."
"You only need to do MayBee's PDA, RJ already did mine," I told him.
"Really, why did he do that?"
"He told me I needed a PDA with more capabilities. All of the command codes and some of the programming to move the money, close the cell phone accounts, along with the other things we’re doing, have been transferred to this PDA."
After Mary Beth's PDA was swapped, everyone grabbed their coats and travel bags, as we left the lounge. The conversation as we walked to the administration building was pretty much all on one subject; how uncomfortable our distraction costumes were. The Beta team was waiting for us in the lobby and the vans were in the parking lot. We didn't waste any time getting into the vans and we were soon underway.
I was surprised that there weren’t any security personnel joining us. That is, until we were coming out of Immigration Canyon, where I noticed two four-door sedans pull out of a cross street and fall in behind the second van. As we were approaching Whittier Elementary, I asked Kriss to park around the corner and a block down. Seeing two large vans close to the school, might make Mr. Santino suspicious, later on. With bags in hand, Mary Beth and I led the way as we walked 'two by two' back down the block and around the corner to the main doors of Whittier Elementary.
"Mr. Rothman, it's a pleasure to see you again," I greeted, as we entered the school.
"Hello Matilda. I assume these are the friends you said would be helping us today."
"Yes they are. Everyone, this is Mr. Rothman. Mr. Rothman, these are the Black Sheep, along with some other special friends."
Everyone said "Hello Mr. Rothman."
"And this is Principal Purcell," Mary Beth added.
To which everyone said "Hello Principal Purcell."
"Hello everyone," Principal Purcell said, with a smile. "Mary Beth, I didn't know you were going to be part of this group."
I told Principal Purcell, "It's really because of Mary Beth that we're here."
Principal Purcell looked at me closely, a little too close for my liking.
Mary Beth quickly came to my rescue. "That's only partly correct. I told Matilda about being bullied and beat up by Bart and she figured out what to do about him."
"Then we owe Matilda our thanks," Principal Purcell then offered his hand.
After shaking hands briefly, I looked at the clock nearby, I replied "Thank you, I'm just happy that I could help. But, I think we need to get this show on the road. Is there a room where we can leave our coats and bags?"
"Of course, if you'll follow me."
Principal Purcell led us to the teachers’ lounge, where we quickly took off our coats. As we were about to leave the teachers’ lounge, Ellen came in.
"Ellen, what are you doing here?" I asked in surprise.
"Just making sure all of my students are safe."
"May I assume you'll be watching from a distance," I asked.
"Very discreetly, but yes."
"Does that mean we change the plan?" Hope asked.
"No, we continue as planned," I replied. After a moment I turned to Ellen and added, "Ellen, I think you'll want to schedule some time with me tomorrow." She looked at me for a moment before agreeing.
We left the lounge and headed for the nearest door that would take us to the playground. The Beta team stayed inside waiting for our signal to make their move. We'd only gone about fifty feet when Mary Beth and I saw Mrs. Roberts, our third grade teacher.
"Hello Mrs. Roberts," we said together.
"Hello Mary Beth, it's good to see you. Do I know you," she said to me.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Roberts. This is my friend Matilda," Mary Beth explained.
"Ma – til – da," Mrs. Roberts said slowly while carefully looking at me as the smile on her face grew. "Well, Matilda, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Something in her voice and the way she said 'Matilda' told me that she knew who I was, or rather who I used to be. I also knew that she wouldn’t cause any trouble, for me, or the school. "It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Roberts. Um, do you know where Black Bart is?"
"Last time I saw him, he was in the North field. I'd stay away from him if I were you."
"Thank you. I'm sure we'll be okay with our friends with us," Mary Beth explained.
"It looks like you have quite the group of friends, Mary Beth. It also appears that you're going to an all girls’ school?" Mrs. Roberts asked.
"It's a - private school," Mary Beth answered.
I noticed that Barb and Em were starting to shiver. I nudged Mary Beth and started moving towards the North field.
"It was nice to see you again Mrs. Roberts, but we need to get moving," Mary Beth said as she followed after us.
Mary Beth caught up to me just as we crossed from the asphalt of the playground to the snow covered grass. Our timing was perfect, as that was also when the alarm bells rang for about five seconds, indicating the end of the lunch period. Most of the students started running for the building when the bell started ringing. Twenty seconds later, the field was almost empty, that's when we saw Walter and his little gang slowly walking towards the building and us.
I turned my head and asked, "Everyone ready? Bully at eleven o'clock."
Walter saw our group and changed his course to intercept us. "Hello there sweeties," he said, as he stopped in front of us.
Mary Beth and I stopped in front of Walter.
"Hello Bart, I hear you've been looking for me," Mary Beth said.
As Mary Beth started talking, the rest of the Black Sheep circled around behind Walter and his gang, just as we'd planed.
"Well, well, if it isn't Mary Beth. What happened to that sissy boyfriend of yours?" Walter asked gruffly.
With eighteen girls behind them and only two in front, Walter and his gang turned halfway around.
"Oh, I can’t help you, Bart, I've never had a sissy boyfriend. But, if you're talking about Matt, I haven't seen him since before you attacked me,” Mary Beth replied. “I heard a rumor that his father killed him, but I don't know if that's true or not. By the way, you won’t be seeing me again; I'm going to a different school now."
As Mary Beth was talking, she and I continued on around to join up with our friends.
"And it looks like quite a nice school. Look at all these little cuties. Maybe I should come and visit some time," Bart said, with an evil grin. “It looks like all of your friends would like some special attention from my long tongue.” To emphasize his point Walter stuck out his tongue and licked the end of his nose.
"Oh my goodness, where are my manners?" Mary Beth said sweetly. "I told my friends about you and they wanted to meet you. They've never met someone in Fourth Grade that’s as big as you are. This is Matilda."
I smiled, put my left foot behind my right foot, lifted the hem of my skirt to chest level showing off a pair of Cherry Red panties, as I bent my right knee in a much practiced curtsy.
"Bart, did you see that," one of his gang exclaimed.
As I dropped my skirt I said, "Bonjour vous les déchets sans valeur d'oxygène," (Hello you worthless waist of oxygen). That had all of the Black Sheep giggling.
"And this is Tonya," Mary Beth introduced.
Tonya followed my lead with her curtsy and a greeting in French, "Bonjour, muet muet." (Hello dumb dumb)
"Bart, do think they is all gunna do that?" asked another of the drooling horde. Walter just stood there smiling.
Mary Beth ignored the comments and whistles, as she introduced each of the Black Sheep. Of course, the first skirt being raised was the signal for the Beta team to make its move. They successfully crossed the distance between the building and where we were gathered, before Mary Beth made the last introduction.
As Nola dropped her skirt, Suzy and Brittanie grabbed Walter's arms, pulling them behind his back.
"Hey, what the hell is going on?" Walter screamed.
"Shouldn't you little boys be getting back to class?" Brittanie asked, very gruffly for a girl.
Walter's gang took one look at the eight large angry looking girls and took off running. Walter had been screaming and cussing, since his arms were restrained.
"Relax Bart and I'll explain to you what is about to happen," I said, with a French accent, which I continued to use, keeping my previous identity from Walter. "First, we need to borrow your cell phone, to make a call.”
Kriss and Janet went through Walter's pockets, looking for his phone. Of course he continued screaming, which was getting pretty annoying. That is until Kimberley and Angelina produced some cloth and effectively gagged our screaming captive.
Janet successfully came up with the needed cell phone. Changing to a male voice, she opened the phone. "Let's see now, oh here's a listing that says dad. That would dial your father’s phone, correct?"
Walter was very effectively gagged and the only sounds he could produce were faint moaning, grunts, and growling. His eyes, however, told a completely different story. It was obvious he was alarmed that we were going to call his father, and shook his head wildly.
"Gee, from the look in your eyes, I'd say that is your dad and that for some reason you don't want me to call him. No matter, I hope your dad is having a better day than you are," Janet teased.
Letting the phone dial the number, she waited several seconds for an answer.
When Mr. Roberts answered, Janet had to pull the phone away from her ear, he was so loud. She then turned on the speaker phone so we could all hear.
Caution: not be suitable for younger readers or those who have experienced personal trauma.
"BART YOU DUMB SHIT, YOU KNOW YOU AIN'T SUPPOSED TO CALL WHILE I'M BREAKING IN A NEW GIRL."
"I'm sorry to disturb you Mr. Roberts. I'm a friend of Bart's -"
"I DIDN'T KNOW THAT SHITHEAD HAD ANY FRIENDS. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH BART'S PHONE?" "Hold still and relax you little slut."
"Bart gave me his phone and asked me to call you. He's kind of in trouble again."
"WHAT'S THAT SHITHEAD GONE AND DONE THIS TIME?” “Oh yes, yes, ahh, you’re so tight, so nice and tight, ahh, oh yes."
"Well, one of the teachers caught him in a restroom with two kindergarten girls. He was trying to take their clothes off and they were screaming. Principal Purcell said, he is tired of Bart trying to molest the little girls at the school. He said he's not afraid of your fat ass anymore and he's going to see that Bart is punished for everything he's done."
"THAT STUPID PIECE OF SHIT. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN THAT. THAT’S WHAT THE DRUGGED CANDY IS FOR, DOPE UM AND BRING UM HOME.” “Ahh, yes, you is oh so sweet. Soon you’ll learn ta love this, ah, ah, ah, ah ah, ahhh." "ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT?”
"Not me sir, that's just what Principal Purcell said. Then he called the police to come take Bart away, they should be here in about twenty minutes."
"THAT STUPID SON OF A BITCH PRINCIPAL.” “Oh, oh, yes, ahhh.” “I’LL BREAK BOTH OF HIS LEGS -” “Oh, oh, on, almost there.” “IF ANY OF THOSE STUPID COPS-” “Ahh, ahh, oh, yes, oh, yes, here it comes.” “-LAY A FINGER ON BART.” “Oh, oh, ah, ah, ah, yes, yes, ohhhhhh . . . , yes. You better learn ta love that cus your gunna see plenty from now on. Get over here you worthless sissy. Lick me clean then put that tiny little bitch back in her cage. What, yes you can lick her, you worthless excuse for a slave," he commanded someone. "WHERE ARE THEY HOLDING BART?" In the background, throughout the entire call, we could hear the unmistakable sounds of young girls crying.
"He's being held in the Principal's office."
"YOU TELL THAT SON OF A BITCH PRINCIPAL THAT I'M ON MY WAY. WE'LL SEE HOW TOUGH HE IS WITH MY BOOT UP HIS ASS."
End of Caution warning.
With that last threat, Walter’s dad terminated the call.
All through the call to his father, Walter had been trying to wiggle his way out of the hands that were holding him. Towards the end of the call, I saw Kriss produce a pair of handcuffs and secure Walter's wrists.
"Thank you, Janet. Great impersonation of a boy by the way," I complimented. "Kriss, where did you get the handcuffs?"
"I borrowed them from one of the officers, while we were waiting."
Kriss pulled out a plastic bag and Janet dropped Walter's phone in. "Be sure to give that to Mr. Rothman. I'm sure he'll know what to do with those names and numbers," I reminded her.
"What's next on the agenda," I asked myself aloud. Getting out my PDA, "Oh yes, I remember." After entering several sets of commands, I smiled up at Walter. "Well Bartholomew, that takes care of your family’s cell phones. The accounts have just been canceled and deleted from the companies’ records." Walter grumbled and tried to get away, again.
"Oh I forgot, you don't like Bartholomew, do you? Perhaps you’d like it better if I called you Walter?" I asked.
His eyes opened wide and if he wasn't being held so securely, he would have taken a step backwards.
"I'm right, aren't I? It's Walter, Walter - Santino - junior. Yes, we know all about you and your family. We know that your father paid someone at the US Marshal's office, to alter the documents, so it would look like you were part of the Witness Protection Program. Were you present when the Marsh family was killed? I guess it doesn't matter, does it. You are going to jail for all the things you've done, including assault and battery of Mary Beth Phelps, and for the assault and attempted murder of Rachael Covington. Oh my, from the look in your eyes, you didn’t know that Rachael was still alive. Let me assure you Rachael is very much alive and she's willing to testify against you."
Poor Walter was really struggling, trying to get away.
"Ok girls, make a circle, facing out," Suzy commanded.
"What's going on?" I wanted to know.
"Nothing to concern yourself with, Matilda, we have a little gift for young Mr. Santino from the team. You may continue with your explanation of what's happening. Pants." Kriss replied and commanded.
"Okay. First off, Walter, that phone call to your father had two objectives, one to get him hopping mad at Principle Purcell and to get him to come here. In about eight minutes he should be pulling up to the front doors, of the school. Second, as for the police being here in twenty minutes, that wasn’t accurate. You see, the police are already here. When your father rushes to the Principal's office, in a fit of rage and not thinking clearly, he will run headlong into an eight man SWAT team. Unless your dad has a death wish, he should be arrested and in custody within two minutes after walking through those doors."
While I was talking, Angelina had moved between me and Walter. Then she opened Walter's pants and pulled them to his knees.
"Scissors," Kriss ordered.
"Scissors?" I questioned.
"Relax Matilda, nobody is going to be hurt. Please continue," Kriss assured me.
I shrugged and continued, "Next, shortly after your father left your house, a dozen officers moved in to arrest your mother and conduct a search of the premises. From the sounds we heard over your phone, they will find more than just the computer records they’re looking for. We know that it was your dad that was actually running the estate in West Valley, the one that was raided last November. I also know there are two other facilities that he runs. The computer records will link him, and probably you, to all three facilities. Once the evidence is uncovered, your father is going to spend a very long time behind bars."
Angelina was giggling, by the time I'd finished with part three of Walter's future. The scissors had been used to cut off Walter's boxer style underwear and it seemed that Angelina was amused at what was revealed.
Angelina jumped in when I paused, "Hey, Walter, you aren't by any chance proud of that tiny little appendage are you? I used to help take care of children with various handicaps. I’ve seen six-year-olds with a larger appendages." By then most of the Beta's had taken a peek at Walter's apparent lack of manhood and were all giggling. As for myself, I wasn't even tempted to take a look.
"Bloomers." Kriss ordered, amid her snickering.
I ignored Walter's embarrassment, and his struggles to get free, as I continued, "To continue, if you're counting on the US Marshal's coming to rescue you and your parents, you can forget about that. Oh, they might try, but I found the documentation that proves your family isn't the family the Marshals are supposed to be protecting. I've given all the documents to the District Attorney, so he knows they can now charge, prosecute, and convict, both you, and your miserable parents, for all the crimes you've committed in Salt Lake. And the icing on the cake, as far as you're concerned, is that the District Attorney is going to push to have you tried as an adult, for the attempted murder of Rachael. If he's successful, you could find yourself locked up for twenty-five years or more."
"Ribbons and locks." Kriss called out.
"Locks?" I questioned.
"Well, actually they're just zip ties. We wouldn't want Walter to remove our gift before the guards at the juvenile detention faculty have had a chance to enjoy them. After an appropriate amount of teasing and humiliation, they should have no trouble removing the zip ties. If Walter is lucky they’ll let him keep the bloomers," Shelly whispered in my ear.
I watched for a moment, as they started weaving some ribbons up the sides of the bloomers. "Just two more things for you to think about, Walter. It was extremely generous of you, to donate all of your savings to the school." Walter's eyes went wide. "That's right, I just emptied both your bank accounts, and gave the money to the school, and that's just the beginning. All of your parent’s bank accounts will be emptied, before they are booked into the county jail. And I do mean all the accounts, local banks, national banks, and international banks, all twenty-four million dollars will be gone. That also answers the question about your dad hiring a high price lawyer to get you out. No money, no lawyer, so that’s not going to happen. By the way, Walter, the bloomers they’ve given you are such a lovely shade of pink and with just the right amount of lace."
"Pants." Kriss said, and Walter's pants were pulled back into place and carefully fastened, tucking in all the lace.
"Lastly Walter," I started. "You must be asking yourself who are we. Who is it that could do such a thing? Who could learn your family’s secrets, empty and close your bank accounts, redistribute your family’s extensive wealth, and bring house Santino to its knees, imprisoning its members for a very, very, long time. Who are we that could do such a thing - we're some of your victims, the very individuals that you tormented and abused. Your victims have conspired together to end your family’s reign of terror. It's now nine minutes since we called your father. He should be arriving soon and we don't want him to see you out here, you’re supposed to be in the Principal’s office. So, would you like to sit down or lay down?"
Walter obviously couldn't say anything, but he did scream something into his gag that came out as a muffled groan, while shaking his head.
"Right, lying down would be more relaxing than sitting. Let's lay him down -" Whamp. "Well, I guess saying gently is somewhat meaningless."
"Sorry," the eight Beta’s said together.
"Are you okay, Walter," I asked.
He replied with a series of short rapid grunts and groans.
"He's okay," Kimberley said.
At that moment a black Hummer screeched to a stop in front of the school. A very large man got out and stormed through the school's main doors. Obviously Walter's father had arrived on schedule and as anticipated he appeared to be quite agitated. I didn't figure we had much longer to wait, which was a good thing because most of the Black Sheep were showing signs being very cold.
We huddled together in small groups, in order to share what little body heat we had left. Being the smallest, definitely has its draw backs, as I had to stay on the outside of a group or be suffocated within the group. The real problem was, there wasn't any choice in the matter, we had to stay outside. I’d promised Mr. Peterson that none of the students would be in danger. Not knowing the exact location of the officers or Mr. Santino, there was no way to determine what doors may be safe to enter and what doors could be in the line of fire. While we were waiting, I did complete the money transfers and account closures that were planned.
Eight minutes after Mr. Santino entered the building, two officers came out a side door.
"Here they come," Hope declared.
"Grrrreat," I said with a shiver. "Let'ssss get Walter up and let'ssss get in sssside, wwwwhere it’sss wwwarm."
Several of the Beta's lifted Walter to his feet and everyone started moving towards the nearest door, and some warmth. As the distance between us and the officers was quickly reduced, both the officers were shaking their heads.
"Gagged?" one of the officers asked, as we met.
"It did cut down on the noise pollution," Kriss replied, as she released her hold on Walter's arm.
After placing his hands where Kriss's had been, the officer agreed, "I can see that. Unfortunately, we can't leave him that way."
"I hope you have some ear plugs," Brittanie said, as she removed Walter's gag.
As expected, the peaceful atmosphere was instantly shattered with a barrage of threats and profanity, and at a volume that had most of us covering our ears, as we ran for the building. I looked back and saw that one of the officers was on his radio, while they led Walter towards the parking lot. I don’t know how someone on the other end of that radio call, could hear what the officer was saying, but that wasn’t my concern, getting warm was.
As we were walking down the hall towards the office, we heard cheering coming from the classrooms that faced the parking lot. Looking through the window of the classroom door, we saw the students looking out the windows and cheering. Looking out to see what had caught the attention of so many, we could see Walter being helped into a police car. Upon hearing the cheers and excitement of that moment, I felt that Immigration Manor had been reimbursed for any expenses they’d incurred.
When we reached the teachers’ lounge, everyone put their coats on and lined up to use the attached, single, restroom. I grabbed Mary Beth in one hand and our travel bags in the other. One set of student restrooms was just outside the office complex, and I knew my bladder wasn’t going to wait very long, before it demanded relief. Seeing Mary Beth and I leave, almost two thirds of the Black Sheep followed us to the restroom. As it turned out, most of us were staying in our school uniforms, only a few opted to change their skirt, for a pair of slacks.
As we left the restroom, we came across Mr. Rothman. “Did everything go as planned,” I asked.
“Yes indeed, Matilda. I’ve never had an arrest go so smoothly. By the way, the officers that secured the Santino home, found three missing girls in the basement. Were you aware of that?”
“When we used Walter’s phone to call his father, we heard something in the background that sounded like a girl crying. Before that, I didn’t have any knowledge there were victims in their home. If you want to add that to your case against Mr. Santino, you should have all the girls examined, and samples taken, for a DNA comparison.” I admitted.
“Matilda, are you saying that he was –“
“The sounds we heard while on the phone with Mr. Santino, were unmistakable. He was in the process of raping one of the girls when we called and continued while we were on the phone,” I gruesomely admitted.
All of the Black Sheep, that were behind me, solemnly nodded in agreement.
“I’ll take care of that immediately, thank you for the additional information, girls. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way,” Mr. Rothman concluded and left.
After Mr. Rothman left, we went back to the teacher’s lounge to rejoin the rest of our group. We also found a slightly upset Ellen Hansen.
“Hello Ellen. Is there a problem?” I asked.
“Matilda, would you like to explain to me why twenty of our students indecently lifted their skirts in public,” she asked gruffly.
Mary Beth quickly raised her hand, saying, “Only nineteen, I just did the introductions.”
“Coward,” someone called out from the back of the room.
“Nineteen or twenty makes little difference,” Ellen said. “The fact remains, that our students indecently exposed themselves.”
“I’ll admit that from a distance it would appear that way, however, no one was actually indecent,” I replied.
“Matilda, would you please explain yourself,” Ellen demanded.
“I’d be happy to. No one was indecent, because of what was actually worn. Um, Jenny, would you tell Ellen what was on display when you lifted your skirt?”
“Of course, when I lifted my skirt, I was modeling a pair of Lilac colored nylon panties. The nylon panties were on top of ten pairs of white cotton panties, for a total of eleven pairs of panties,” Jenny explained.
“And would you like to lift your skirt now?” I asked.
“I most certainly would not,” Jenny said, in a huff. “Wearing that many pairs of panties was extremely uncomfortable and I have removed most of them.”
“Let’s see, Hope, would you tell Ellen what you showed off when you raised your skirt?”
“Well, Okay. At the time I lifted my skirt outside, I was wearing a pair of Burgundy nylon panties, on top of fifteen pairs of cotton panties. And no, I won’t raise my skirt now,” she stated clearly.
“You see Ellen, everyone was instructed to wear enough layers, that they would feel comfortable. We took a lesson from Hayley Mills and went from there,” I explained
“Hayley Mills?” Ellen asked more calmly, the wind taken from her sails.
“From the original Parent Trap movie. She did a commentary, years later, where she explained that in the scene where the back of her dress was cut away she’d worn fifteen pairs of panties, so she wouldn’t be embarrassed,” I went on to explain.
“Well – I’m still not happy about what all of you have done, but I suppose that, because none of you were actually indecent and you all volunteered, I guess that no one deserves to be disciplined for their actions. As I understand it, you are planning to go to lunch before returning to school.”
“That’s correct,” Kriss volunteered.
“Then I won’t keep you any longer. Matilda, I’d still like to talk with you, tomorrow,” Ellen said, as she picked up her coat and left the lounge.
“It looks like you’re still in trouble, Matilda,” LeAnne said.
“It looks that way,” I admitted. “But, I’m guessing that Ellen’s only upset that I didn’t discuss it with her first.”
“So, where are we going to lunch,” Nola asked.
“I couldn’t find a place that served everyone’s request, but I came as close as I could. We’re going to a place called the Sugarhouse Barbeque Company. They serve everything except for oriental or Mexican, and there was one request for each of those. I’m sorry I couldn’t find a nice place that would meet with everyone’s requests.”
I sent Kriss the directions and we headed for the vans, saying goodbye to Principle Purcell and Mrs. Roberts as we passed by.
Lunch turned out to be an enjoyable time for all. Even those who had requested something different, found something on the menu that they enjoyed. We really weren’t in any hurry to get back into the vans and head for the Manor, but I could tell that our inconspicuous security team was having a hard time staying inconspicuous. So, with one last slurp from the bottom of our shake glasses we bid farewell to our momentary thrill of freedom and returned to our world of schedules, and learning, and secrets.
On our way back up the canyon, I sent Mr. Peterson a note indicating our expected arrival time and asked when he would like to get together. I also requested, that because of our late lunch, that Year A be permitted to join Years D – H for dinner.
Mr. Peterson approved the later dinner time and in doing so requested that we meet thirty minutes before the dinner hour. Oh well, it had been a crazy, mixed up, day from the time we got out of bed. So, why should that change when we get back to the Manor?
"Good evening Mr. Peterson,"
"Good evening, Matilda. How was your fieldtrip?"
"A little disappointing."
"In what way?"
"It seems that Pioneer Village is closed during the winter months. Something I didn't take into account when I made my request. I guess that's a lesson for me, I need to do a better job with my research before making such a request in the future."
"You need to do a better job with your research?" Mr. Peterson snickered. "Considering your track record, I'm almost afraid to see what you'd come up with if you did a better job with your research.”
I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
Turning serious, he asked, “So tell me, what became of the unofficial action.”
“Well, except for having Ellen upset with me, everything went according to plan. The District Attorney and Principle Purcell were very pleased and the students were cheering.” I then went on to fill Mr. Peterson in on the details of the operation, including why Ellen was upset with me.
"Well, Matilda, I can understand why Ellen would be upset. Let me guess, you thought she wouldn't approve of your diversionary strategy?"
"Something like that."
"All I can say on that subject is, I think you may have misjudged Ellen. Then again, you've only known her for four months."
"And you for that matter," I added.
"Also true. However, let's move on to why I've invited you to come see me this evening. Am I correct in my assumption that you now consider the situation of Walter and your previous school resolved, to your satisfaction?"
"Well, even though there's nothing I can do about it, I would like to know how the trials turn out. Other than that, I'd have to say, I'm satisfied with action that's been taken."
"Very good. Now then, we wouldn't want someone with your talents to get bored, that could be dangerous for the school," he said, with a smile. So, I knew he was teasing me.
"Well, I wouldn't say dangerous per se, but it could be exciting," I replied.
"Well, I'm not sure how much more excitement the old buildings can take. So I'm thinking, we need to focus your energies in another direction. Do you think you could learn a different language in two weeks?"
"Two weeks, are you crazy?"
"I have been accused of that on numerous occasions. However, at this point in time, I can assure you I'm quite sane. Now that you're not spending all of your efforts on Walter’s downfall, we'd like you to accompany RJ on a trip to Edinburgh. They have been accused of speaking English, but if you've heard it, you'd probably disagree."
"Oh, that's the trip RJ was going to take just before Christmas."
"That's correct."
"He hasn't gone yet?"
"No. As you would put it, a higher authority feels that your talents could be useful in the evaluation of, and the negotiations for, the purchase of new PDA's for the school."
"How bad do they want me to go, with RJ?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, do they want me to go bad enough, that they're willing to spend a little more, for another airline ticket?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You remember last month, when Kimberley and I didn't make it to our rendezvous in Quebec?" Mr. Peterson nodded. "Were you told how badly Mary Beth lost it?"
"Yes, Ellen spent several hours with her, just so she wouldn't make a scene when she was in public view."
"The same thing almost happened last Wednesday, when I was gone for four hours with Ellen, talking with Mr. Rothman."
"I was told there was an incident with Mary Beth; I guess I wasn't informed as to the severity of the incident."
"That's because, Jenny and the Black Sheep, did their best to keep things under control and to keep Mary Beth out of the public eye. I spent hours holding her, after I got back."
"I had no idea she was still suffering PTS from the incident in Quebec."
"Nobody did. Of course, we haven't been separated by more than a few buildings since we got back, from Quebec. Mr. Peterson, you know how I am about keeping a promise I've made."
"Are you telling me you -"
"I promised Mary Beth that I wouldn't leave this campus without her, for at least a year."
"I see. That does change things a bit. I tell you what, I'll leave you and Ellen to care for your study partner, and I'll have a chat with the higher authority. A reasonable compromise?"
"Yes, quite reasonable," I said, with a smile.
"Well, you’d best be off, you don't want to miss dinner."
"No sir. Good night, Mr. Peterson," I said, with a smile, as I got up from the couch opposite Mr. Peterson.
That night after we'd said our prayers, Mary Beth asked what Mr. Peterson wanted to talk about.
"It seems that someone still wants me to go to Edinburgh with RJ," I told her.
Mary Beth started shaking and mumbling "No ... No ... No ... You promised ... You promised ..."
I quickly wrapped my arm around her, "It's all right ... It's all right ... I did promise, I did promise. I told him that if you didn't go, then I wouldn't go. It's all right ... Relax ... I'm not going anywhere without you."
It took a while, but she settled down. Looking down at me she finally asked, "Y - you really told Mr. Peterson you wouldn't go without me?"
"That's right. I made you a promise, so you're stuck with me hanging around for at least a year."
"What will we do then?"
"Well, between now and then, we'll do a lot of talking with Ellen, then who knows. You see, knowing that it would hurt you if I were to leave, I just couldn't go. I love you too much to cause you that much pain."
"I ... I ... Oh the heck with it. I love you too, Matilda."
'I've known it since we met the busses in Chicago, but she finally had the courage to shake off her mother’s bigoted teaching and openly say it.'
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 36
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
How much trouble can a Munchkin get into?
When she's been doing her best at impersonating an angel.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 36
By Penny Reed Cardon
Monday, January 31, 2005
As we were leaving our first class of the day my PDA beeped, indicating a change in our schedules. A moment later Mary Beth's PDA beeped, as well. I looked around to see if any other PDA's were going to follow along. When all the other PDA’s remained silent I looked to see what the change was. Suddenly, Mary Beth slapped my shoulder.
"What's that for?" I asked. Then I realized what the schedule change was.
"Did you get us into trouble again?" Mary Beth demanded.
"No I didn't get us into trouble. I wonder what he wants," I replied.
"What does who want?" Hope asked.
"Mr. Peterson, that's who," Mary Beth answered sharply.
"So, you are in trouble," George said, as our group split apart, entering the restroom of their choice.
"I'm telling you, Mary Beth. I haven't linked to any system outside school all weekend," I said, as I entered a stall and closed the door.
"Uh ha, so why would Mr. Peterson want to see both of us. I'm sure you did something wrong, you just don't want to admit it."
"I'm telling you, whatever it is, I didn’t do it," I adamantly complained, while washing my hands.
"Matilda, you might as tell her. She's going to know as soon as you sit down in Mr. Peterson's office," Em added.
"But I really didn't do anything," I replied, as we went back out into the hall.
Jenny came by and placed her hand on my shoulder, two fingers touching the skin of my neck. "Matilda is speaking the truth. She has not been doing anything naughty this weekend. However, I think she does know why Mr. Peterson would want to see both her and Mary Beth."
"You think you know?" I asked Jenny.
"I do not know, but I sense that you do in fact know why. You must trust your instincts." With that Jenny smiled and removed her hand.
"Edinburgh," I thought aloud, with a heavy sigh.
"What's Edinburgh? Barb asked.
"Edinburgh is the capital of Scotland," Mary Beth replied. "They want the Munchkin to go to Edinburgh with RJ. It has something to do with that special PDA of hers and new PDA's for the school."
"Really," Aaron asked, in great surprise. "You? Not someone from Years G or H? That's . . . That's unheard of, it's ridiculous, it's wild even, but it's also such a huge honor."
"I'm not looking for any honors. I told Mr. Peterson I'd go, if they arranged for MayBee to come along. They wouldn't force me to go alone and break my promise to her, would they?"
"I would say that it is highly unlikely. You would be angry, your mind would be back here with Mary Beth, and so you would not do your best work. If it is your particular expertise they want, the trip would be a waste of time, money, and resources," Jenny theorized.
"Whatever he wants, I guess we'll know exactly what it is in a couple of hours, after our next class," I concluded, as we entered our classroom.
"Come In." We heard immediately after I knocked on the office door. Opening the door, we found Mr. Peterson sitting in the overstuffed chair next to the couches in the corner of his office.
"See, we're not in trouble," I said to Mary Beth, as we crossed to a couch.
"This time," she shot back.
"Who said you were in trouble?" Mr. Peterson inquired.
"After you sent for both of us, well, let's say there was some speculation among the Black Sheep," I replied, as we sat down.
"I'm not aware of you getting into trouble. Have you done something in the last two days that I don't know about?"
"No sir"
"Good enough for me. Let's talk about Edinburgh."
"Looks like you were right," Mary Beth told me.
"She was right about what?" he asked.
"About her not being in trouble and that you might pressure her into going, to Edinburgh," Mary Beth explained.
"Well, I too am glad that Matilda's not in any trouble. As for pressuring her to accompany RJ to Edinburgh, there's no pressure needed, she is going. We just have a few details to work out. Such as, all of your free time for the next two weeks will have to be devoted to learning to understand, and hopefully having the ability speak with a bit of a Scottish barogue."
"Scottish barogue?" Mary Beth questioned.
Mr. Peterson tapped a few keys on his PDA, and some strange noises came out. I was pretty sure that they were made by a human, but I wouldn't place a wager on it.
"Mr. Peterson, I haven't made noises like those since I was two," Mary Beth complained.
"It is a bit hard to understand, without some previous knowledge of the language and dialect," he agreed.
"So what's Mary Beth supposed to do, while I'm learning to understand Scottish?" I asked.
"Take the lessons with you, of course. That way you'll have each other to practice with," he replied.
"And what about while I'm gone, are you planning to keep her sedated in the hospital the whole time?"
"Matilda, who said anything about sedation? Mary Beth will be awake and I'm sure she will enjoy being your traveling companion."
"My what?"
"Matilda, did you ,or did you not tell me you had made a promise not to leave this campus without Mary Beth?"
"Yes I did, but I didn't expect the S. P. A. to spend so much just so I could keep my promise."
"Matilda, from the short time we've known each other, I've come to know that you're an exceptional young lady. You're willingness to help others and your almost flawless sense of honesty combine to make you the very special person you are. I would never be party to, or allow anyone else, to take those qualities from you. Besides, the price of a few airline tickets and some extra meals, doesn't even qualify as a pin-prick in the twenty Million that was mysteriously discovered by the schools accounting staff. There may yet be some fallout because of some unofficial action taken by a few of our students, but we'll address that if, or when, it happens."
"So, I'm going with her?" Mary Beth asked excitedly.
"Isn't that what I just said?" Mr. Peterson replied.
"After unmercifully bludgeoning some poor, unsuspecting, and defenseless shrubbery," I teasingly added.
Mary Beth looked at me with an expression of confusion, finally saying, "Yeah, whatever she said."
I put my arm around Mary Beth, explaining, "Yes, you're going with me to Edinburgh and Mr. Peterson did say so. However, he did so in a manner that would normally be described as 'Beating around the Bush'."
"Oh. Yeah, I knew that," she agreed.
"I guess the question I have to ask," Mr. Peterson continued. "Exactly who will be going? You'll be leaving on February Sixteenth, so there's isn't much time to work on a presentation you're not comfortable with."
"What do you mean, who is going?" Mary Beth asked.
"Well, when the school goes on a field trip, everyone goes as they are presenting when the announcement is made. For this trip you are free to choose your presentation."
"I really don't like appearing as Jeffrey. I can do so if needed, but I don't enjoy it and I don't look forward to being Jeffrey," I replied softly.
"I'm definitely more comfortable as myself," Mary Beth added.
"It's settled then, Mary Beth Phelps and Matilda Rachael McNeil. We already have a passport for you, Mary Beth. We'll have to put together a passport for Matilda."
"What about the passport they used for me when we were going to - - Wait, never mind. That was for Sally, not Matilda."
"Quite correct. Next question Matilda, in the passport picture we have for you, your hair is brown and fairly long. Currently, you're wearing a very cute, blonde, pixie cut. Is that the hair color you'd prefer?
"This is my hair," I beamed. "I'm glad it's finally long enough to do something with it. I can't wait for it to grow down to my shoulders."
"I'll take that as a yes then, to the blonde hair. So I'll need to arrange for new passport pictures and to make reservations for three, from Salt Lake to Edinburgh, and back."
"Mr. Peterson, in light of all the abuse scandals in the press lately, don't you think one male teacher with two female students, might seem a little strange?" I asked.
"Are you saying Jeffrey and Hunter should be going?"
"No, that would be about the same."
"If not worse," Mary Beth added.
"So, what are you suggesting, Matilda?" Mr. Peterson asked.
"I was thinking, there should be at least two adults, when an overnight stay is part of the trip. That would provide better protection for the students, better protection for the adult chaperons, and most importantly, better protection for the school, against an unnecessary media scandal."
"Hmm, point well taken. Impressions and appearances, are sometimes vastly over played by the press, in order to create headlines that will sensationalize the stories, when in fact, there is no story at all. Do you have any suggestions for a second chaperon?"
I looked at Mary Beth, "Do you have any preference?"
"M, Me?" she eloquently stuttered. Quickly pulling herself together she added, "As long as I'm not left behind, while you go gallivanting off to the other side of the plant, I'm good with who else goes along."
I thought for a moment before adding, "Well, I also have no preference to a secondary chaperon. What puzzles me is, who and why, why is someone so insistent that I make this trip. Not to mention, wondering what will be expected of me."
"As for who, at least three of the people you gave a presentation to several weeks ago. As for why, RJ will brief you later. What will be expected of you is simple, it is expected that you do what comes naturally, that you do your best, and have fun doing it. You do what they're expecting you to do and you'll have earned the motto that some of the older years refer to you with." Mr. Peterson explained.
"Motto, what motto, I haven't heard anything about a motto. What are they saying about me?"
"I don't know the exact wording, but I believe it goes something like this, 'You shouldn't underestimate the Munchkin'."
"What! Where did you hear that? MayBee, did you start that one?"
"Me?" Mary Beth exclaimed, as she backed away. "I had nothing to do with it, I swear. It does sound like a good motto, 'You shouldn't underestimate the Munchkin'. I might have started something like that if I'd thought of it, I like it."
"Well I don't. Makes me out to be some kind of genius or something, and it's just not true. There are lots of people smarter than me."
"That may be Matilda, but you're still one of a kind," Mr. Peterson said adding his compliment.
I grumbled some more; we bid farewell to Mr. Peterson; and headed to the cafeteria, and lunch.
"So, are you in trouble again," George asked.
"George, you wouldn't believe how much trouble she's in," Mary Beth replied quickly, before I had a chance to say anything. "And this time she's dragged me into it as well."
"Well give, let's hear all the details," Morgan pleaded.
Knowing that we weren't in any trouble and hearing her reply to George, I quickly figured out she planned on stringing the Black Sheep out as tight as possible.
Playing it up as much as possible, I answered Morgan, "Morgan, it's . . . It's just too . . . It's just something that we can't talk about right now. This isn't something we can discuss in public. You'll have to wait until tonight, in the lounge, to discuss our latest tale of woe."
"Not to mention that this is so hush, hush, that no one outside of Year A can know about it," Mary Beth added softly.
Everyone's eyes were as large as golf balls. Forks had stopped halfway between plates and gaping mouths. Everyone appeared to be in shock, astounded by what little we told them and what their imaginations were screaming at them. Mary Beth and I were squeezing each other’s hand, under the table, to help us keep from cracking. Eventually, Aaron came to our rescue, "Okay, everyone can stop pretending to be mummified and finish their lunch. We'll get all the news later."
While I was looking the other way, Jenny reached over and took my hand. As always, her touch had a calming effect on me. As I looked into Jenny's eyes, I saw something there I'd never seen before. I pulled my hand away, but Jenny and I continued to stare at each other. Or, perhaps she was trying to see through me. Either way, it was a spooky sort of feeling. Eventually, both Jenny and I came out of our mutually induced trance. Mary Beth was asking me what was wrong and Aaron was asking Jenny the same thing.
"I'm fine, MayBee, there was just something different about how Jenny touched me," I replied first.
"I too am fine," Jenny finally replied. "I felt something in Matilda that I have never felt before. It was very strange, the best description I can give is, confusion. I do not know what it means, it was most disturbing."
"Well, I for one think they should both be seen by Dr. Harris and then by their support person. For several seconds they were both white as sheets," Malcolm, our visiting psychiatrist, insisted.
Well, so much for our afternoon class, at least for the four of us. Dr. Harris checked out Jenny and me, while our partners waited in the lobby. No mummifying gown, but we were checked out in every other way possible. Dr. Harris even went so far as to have Jenny hold my hand. I was expecting it this time, so I was able to control my thoughts and there were no surprises.
Finding nothing, Dr. Harris released us to go back to class, with the understanding that we were to see our individual psychiatrist. Being released to go back to class was pretty much pointless. We'd missed computer studies and most of English. The only thing left for the day was study hall, dinner, family home evening, visit Rachael, and choir practice. 'We're so busy, when are we going to have time to learn Scottish?'
"How long do you think we can keep them guessing," I asked Mary Beth, the first time we were alone.
"I don't know. The simple fact that we made it through lunch, was a huge success. We should try to string them along as long as we can."
"I'll go along with that, but sooner or later we'll have to explain what I'm supposed to have done. It can't be something easy or something that has been done before, they'll see right through any lame offense."
"Oh, you're right about that. I hadn't thought that far ahead when I started this little charade. Hey, I wonder, do you think, oh I don't know, he might do it, but what if he won't. There is the chance to get one over on the Black Sheep, of course I don't know if he's into that sort of thing, then again he might help us just for fun, -"
"MayBee, what on earth are you trying to say? Who might help us and why?"
"Mr. Peterson of course. I'm not sure what direction his sense of humor runs, but he might help come up with an offense against the school that would warrant a temporary relocation. You said there were other schools."
"MayBee, you're brilliant. I'll send him a note to see if he'll see us just before dinner."
"Come in."
"Well, well. Twice in one day. Is this a good thing or bad?" Mr. Peterson jokingly asked, as we entered his office.
"In this case I'd say it’s a good thing. We were wondering if you could help us put one over on the rest of the Black Sheep?" Mary Beth explained.
Mr. Peterson's eyes lit up, as we explained what we'd said during lunch. He even chuckled, as we described what we wanted.
After thinking about our request for a little while, Mr. Peterson came up with an idea, “I think what this calls for is a breach of security.”
“A breach of security? That’s a little extreme don’t you think?” Mary Beth asked.
“That would be hard to contain, wouldn’t it Mr. Peterson?” I asked. “The rumors would spread quickly and half the students would be scared half out of their minds.”
“Oh, not a serious breach of security, such as would require a relocation of the school. Just a little breach, that would prompt an investigation and inspection by the Utah State Board of Education,” he replied.
“The Board of Education? Why would they be involved?” I asked.
“Well, we are a school Matilda. And we do teach children within the state of Utah. Therefore, we fall under the jurisdiction of the Utah State Board of Education, and from time to time they inspect our facility, curriculum, and teachers, just like any other school in the state. Now then, let me explain what I had in mind.”
Mr. Peterson quickly outlined what he thought would be a good cover for pulling the wool over the Black Sheep’s eyes. We spent about fifteen minutes expounding and refining his idea, until Mary Beth and I felt we could keep up the charade, until we left for Edinburgh.
"You saw Mr. Peterson again?" George asked, after we'd collected our food and sat down for dinner.
"Twice in one day, that must be some kind of record," Morgan stated.
"They were both for the same reason. This meeting was just an update on the situation," Mary Beth explained.
"What situation?" Hope inquired.
"As we indicated at lunch, the situation is something we can't discuss in public. If word of this got out, it could cause school wide panic," I elaborated as well as throwing more fuel on the fire.
Mary Beth and I have thirty minutes of free time before choir practice, on Monday evenings. As we were leaving the hospital, after visiting Rachael, we found ourselves being escorted to the year lounge by half of the Black Sheep. 'I believe the actual term is Frog Marched, as if we were prisoners on our way to the gallows.' When we arrived at the lounge, we were slightly surprised to find our customary couch in the center of the room, it normal sits against the West wall, just to the North of a window.
"Is there a problem?" Mary Beth asked, as we sat down.
"Yes there's a problem, you're hiding things from us," Wally complained.
"Yeah, it's always been us against everyone else and now you're keeping things from us," added George.
"The whole school is buzzing about something," Barbara joined in.
"It seems like you've told everyone except us and we want to know why," Howard concluded.
"Honestly, we haven't told anyone anything about what's going on," Mary Beth started.
"I can only assume that someone from Years B or C overhead our conversation at lunch and follow up at dinner. I'm sure with what little they heard, their imaginations ran wild," I continued.
"And so did their tongues," Mary Beth added.
"So you haven't told anyone?" Em asked.
"No one," I replied.
"This could still work out in our favor," George said.
"Yeah, the rest of the school could be buzzing with the wrong information," Howard added.
"And we'll be the only ones that know the truth," Vikk continued.
"Except we don't know the truth," Misa complained.
"Hey, that's right. All right you two, out with it," George commanded.
"Right now we can't give you the whole story," I started, being careful not to use the word truth. "Because, right now we don't know how the story will end."
"That's right," Mary Beth continued. "It may be several weeks before we know the conclusion of what started last Friday."
"Last Friday," Aaron repeated. "Are you telling us that something happened last Friday while we were out?"
"Yes," I stated simply.
"Matilda was recognized," Mary Beth continued.
"She was what?" Em asked.
"Recognized?" Barb questioned.
"Recognized by who?" Hope asked.
"That would be, by whom?" Jenny corrected.
"Who or whom doesn't matter right now," Em stated excitedly.
"No, what matters is what are they going to do?" Hope demanded.
Everyone was quite, waiting for a reply to their questions.
"Yes, I was recognized. The who, was one of the girls that went to Mary Beth's birthday party," I started.
"She's also someone that knows that the Matilda at my party was really Matt made up to pass as a girl," Mary Beth continued.
"She also knows that Mary Beth's mother went ballistic when she found out the truth about me." I sadly added.
"And she told your mother that you and Matilda are attending the same school?" Barb asked.
"Are your parents going to pull out?" Hope asked.
"What would that do to the rest of us?" Abbey wanted to know.
"Not just about us, what about the school?" SueAnn inquired.
"Are they going to relocate the school again?" Jenny asked
"Please, we don't know all the answers," I complained. "We don't know if Mary Beth's mother was told anything."
"I don't think the girl that recognized Matilda will say anything to my mother. In the months between my birthday party and us coming here, she was one of the few girls that would talk with me after my party," Mary Beth explained. "What I found strange about our conversations, what little there was of them, she seemed more interested in how Matt was able to be so convincing as a girl. I almost suspected that she knew someone who was transgender and she was trying to help them."
"All we know for sure is, that I was recognized. Some inquiries were made at Whittier about me, where I came from, and where I was going to school. Fortunately, the folks at Whittier told them that they didn't know anything about me, or the school, where all the girls came from," I added.
"Then they went to the Utah State Board of Education. They're asking about an ‘all-girls’ school, trying to find out where Matilda's attending school," Mary Beth concluded.
"But, we're not an ‘all-girls’ school," Howard stated.
"Exactly. That's why Mr. Peterson doesn't think anything will come of the investigation. Regardless, his contacts in the board of education are keeping a close eye on the progress of the investigation," I told them.
"Investigation, what are they investigating?" Deanna asked.
"The inquiry to the board of education was looking for an ‘all-girls’ school that is accepting transgender girls as students," I elaborated.
"But we're not an ‘all-girls’ school!" Howard repeated.
"We know, Howard," Barb, SueAnn, and Misa chorused.
"So, what do we do now?" Tina asked.
Calmly I stated, "Right now, we go to choir practice. Tomorrow, we attend our classes and in every other way carry on with our lives as if nothing, out of the ordinary, is going on."
"And above all, we keep this to ourselves," Mary Beth added.
As we finished reading our scriptures, a horrible thought flashed across a dozen or more neurons in my brain.
"MayBee, quick, run and get dressed, we have to go out right now," I commanded. "How could I have been so stupid? We've got to talk with them right away."
"Get dressed? We just got ready for bed."
"It doesn't matter, we have to go and right now. Leave your pajamas on, just put on a pair of pants and dress your feet. Your coat will cover everything else," I told her, as I ran into my closet.
"But it's after curfew, we're not supposed to be out of our rooms."
"Doesn't matter, we'll beg for forgiveness later," I called out, as I was getting dressed.
"Munchkin, what's so important, who do we have to talk to?"
"Beca and Lizy," I stated, as I sat down to put on my shoes and socks.
Mary Beth almost turned white, as she realized what I was talking about.
"You're so right." She jumped up and headed for her room.
"I'll be ready in four minutes." She added, as she went through the interconnecting door.
"Better send them a note, so they'll be ready to receive guests," she called out from her closet.
Quickly I sent a note to Beca;
Beca, are you and Lizy in your rooms?
~ ~ ~
Yes we are, why?
~ ~ ~
MayBee and I need to talk with you both.
~ ~ ~
Can't it wait until morning?
~ ~ ~
Too important. We'll be there in five minutes.
~ ~ ~
You know it's after curfew.
~ ~ ~
Wouldn't be the first time I've been in trouble.
~ ~ ~
And probably won't be the last.
Mary Beth was ready by then and we took off. Once we were outside of our building we ran to Beca and Lizy's dorm. Quietly we approached Beca's door and gently knocked.
The door opened and Beca hurried us inside, "Get in here quick, before someone sees you." Once the door was closed she asked, "Do you know how much trouble you two will be in if someone catches you out this late?"
"Probably, not very much," I said. "Being that were here to offer aid and comfort to another student."
"Munchkin, what are you talking about?" Beca asked.
Tactfully, I answered a question with a question, "How's Lizy?"
"She's kind of upset right now, there's been - wait, you already knew she was upset. How did you know?"
"That's why we're here. I'm assuming she's in her room, is she decent?"
"Just a minute," Beca said, as she slipped into Lizy's room.
We waited patiently for Beca's return. It was about five minutes before the door swung open and Beca appeared, supporting Lizy. Quietly they crossed to the couch and sat down.
"Mary Beth, why don't you get the computer chair," I whispered in her ear.
Meanwhile, I sat on the edge of the coffee table, directly in front of Lizy.
"Lizy," I started softly. "I want to apologize for causing you such grief. I only realized a few minutes ago that the current rumors would cause you this much pain. For that we're both truly sorry."
"Munchkin, what are you talking about," Beca asked.
"I'm talking about the rumors that are circulating around the school about a security breach, an inspection of the school, and a possible relocation. Those rumors were started because of us. When I realized the pain they would cause to you and Lizy we came right over, to explain. I wouldn't have been able to sleep knowing that Lizy was in such pain."
"Wh…what d…do y…you me…mean," Lizy stuttered.
"Last Friday, Mr. Peterson asked me to go to Edinburgh with RJ. I explained to him that I couldn't leave the school without MayBee. If I did, she would probably look and feel like you do right now."
"Worse," Mary Beth added.
"Anyway, this morning Mr. Peterson scheduled a meeting with both of us, just before lunch. They still want me to go to Edinburgh with RJ. They want me bad enough that they're willing to have MayBee come along for the ride, and maybe to help keep me out of trouble."
"That's great, Munchkin. But what does that have to do with the rumors?" Beca asked.
"When we caught up with the Black Sheep for lunch they wanted to know what kind of trouble we were in. We weren't in trouble, but it seemed like a good prank to pull, so we let them think we were in trouble. Then one thing led to another and before we knew what was happening, there was a giant snowball rolling down the hill and we weren't able to stop it."
"So, there's no security breach?" Lizy asked, obviously feeling better.
"No security breach." I reaffirmed.
"No inspection?" Beca asked.
"Well, the state board of education does have the right to come and inspect the school, the teachers, and the curriculum. However, they usually call and schedule their visits and Mr. Peterson isn't aware of any scheduled inspections," I replied.
"And no relocation?" Lizy asked, as if she were pleading.
"Definitely no relocation," Mary Beth replied.
"So how did the rumors get started?" Beca wanted to know.
To answer Beca's question, Mary Beth and I went over the details and the order of the different conversations as they took place. By the time we had finished the tale, Lizy was feeling much better and I felt like I would be able to sleep, now that we'd corrected a horrible misunderstanding.
"We better get going, I'm falling asleep," Mary Beth informed me.
As we got up to leave, Beca checked the time. She whispered something in Lizy's ear and Lizy nodded.
"Wait a second," Beca said, as we reached the door. "It's almost midnight and you two will be in so much trouble if someone sees you. For tonight, I'll sleep with Lizy and you two can share my bed. You don't have a problem sharing a bed, do you?"
"Eeewwww, I can’t believe you are suggesting that I should sleep with a Munchkin?" Mary Beth squealed teasingly.
"I don't know, these beds are so small. I guess we could share, it would be such a hardship being crammed in with MayBee. Are you sure it will be okay with the management to double up like this," I teased back.
Beca was giggling, as she was one of the few people that knew we'd been sleeping together since we were at Primary Children's together. "We don't have any pajamas that will fit you. So, I guess you'll have to sleep in your clothes."
"Not a problem," I said, as I took off my coat revealing a pink pajama top. Kicking off my shoes, I dropped my pants to reveal a long pair of pajama bottoms.
Mary Beth followed my lead, revealing the short pajamas she was wearing earlier.
"Well, were you two planning on spending the night?" Lizy asked, with a giggle.
"No, we’d already gotten ready for bed and were just in a hurry to get over here. I realized that you needed to know the situation and we didn’t want to waste any time changing, again," I explained.
"Okay. We'll leave you two to get some sleep," Beca said, as they got up and went into Lizy's room, closing the door as they passed through.
"We'd better get some sleep. I think tomorrow is going to feel like a long day," Mary Beth prodded.
"I'll agree with you on that. Missing out on two hours sleep will take its toll on us, by the end of the day.
After taking care of last minute details in the bathroom and setting my PDA alarm for fifteen minutes earlier, we climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep.
Tuesday, February 1, 2005
The alarm went off and we groggily slid out of bed. Quickly taking turns in the bathroom, we slipped on our clothes and headed back to our dorm and a warm shower. Running around at 6:45 in the morning, amid several feet of snow, was definitely an awakening experience.
"Did I see you two out jogging early this morning?" Abbey asked, Mary Beth and I, when we entered the year lounge for the Pilots Briefing.
"Jogging?" Mary Beth repeated.
"Yes, good, we were out jogging," I confirmed. After all, we were moving quickly as we raced back to our rooms.
"But, she's not going to talk me into that again, at least not until the temperature is well above freezing," Mary Beth complained, adding realism to the story.
As we were leaving our first class of the day my PDA beeped, indicating a change in our schedules. A moment later Mary Beth's PDA beeped, as well. I looked around to see if any other PDA's were going to follow along. When all was quiet I shook my head, mumbling, "Not again?"
"Well, at least it isn't Mr. Peterson this time," Mary Beth commented.
"Who wants to see you now?" Aaron asked.
"Today its Ellen that has requested our presence," I replied, after I'd checked my PDA.
"Good morning, Ellen." I cheerfully greeted, after being granted admittance to her office.
"Good morning ladies. Have a seat on a couch and I'll be with you in just a moment."
Mary Beth almost ran over me as I stopped abruptly. We were sure someone knew we'd broken curfew and had been called in to face the music. Now, being directed to a couch took us by surprise. We quickly recovered, and after making a quick U-turn, made it to our customary couch.
Mary Beth leaned down and whispered, "I was sure this would be about last night and we'd be in sitting in the straight back chairs."
I agreed by nodding, then added, "Well, just play it by ear and see what she wants."
"That's all taken care of," Ellen said, as she sat down. "So, I'm all yours."
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, before I started, "Um, you called us."
"Yes I did. I'd like you to answer some questions I have."
"We'd be happy to," I replied.
"If we can," Mary Beth added.
"Terrific. Now then, with the rumors that were going around the school yesterday I had the life signs monitors turned on in several of the student’s rooms. I was called just before Elizabeth's life signs indicated she was to cross from extremely agitated into full panic mode. We had an intervention team ready move, when something unexpected occurred, two more life signs appeared on the monitors. Shortly thereafter, the four individuals met together in one room and over the next hour Elizabeth's life sign returned to normal. Do you know who those other individuals could have been?"
"Ellen, is it written somewhere in a psychiatrist rule book to ask questions that you already know the answers to?" I asked, smiling slightly.
Ellen was silent for several seconds before asking, "I'm not sure I understand, Matilda."
"When the second set of life sings appeared, either you or someone in the room checked the locator system. Within a few seconds you knew that it was Mary Beth and I that had entered Beca's room. If I'm correct, what you really want to know is what did we say to Lizy that helped her calm down, correct?"
"Yes, you are correct. However, there's a right way to be right and there's a wrong way to be right. So, would you two like to explain why you were with Rebecca and Elizabeth after curfew, what was discussed and why?"
"We know about the rumors, Ellen, they were started because of us," Mary Beth started to explain.
"They were started because of you, I don't understand?" Ellen interrupted.
"You know about them wanting me to go to Edinburgh with RJ?" I asked.
"Yes, they checked with me. They wanted my opinion on you mental state and your ability to focus on a single task."
"Did you know that Matilda refused to go unless I went along?" Mary Beth added.
"I wasn't aware of that. What's the reason for that decision?"
We briefly explained to Ellen the panic attack Mary Beth experienced when she and I first met with Mr. Rothman, the previous week.
"I wasn't aware there was an ongoing problem. I guess we have something to work on. So, how does that relate to the rumors that are currently circulating the school?"
"Yesterday morning Mr. Peterson sent us a meeting request to inform us that Mary Beth was approved to go on the trip with me," I continued.
"That shouldn't cause any rumors."
"But you're forgetting one thing, the Black Sheep," Mary Beth added.
"I still don't understand." Ellen shook her head.
"Because Mr. Peterson asked to see us both at the same time the Black Sheep assumed we were in trouble," I explained.
"And when we met them for lunch, I sort of let them continue thinking we were in trouble. I thought it would be a good joke to play on them," Mary Beth added.
Over the next half hour we went over the whole thing again, adding the trip to Beca and Lizy's room and spending the night, so we won't be out on the grounds so far after curfew.
"Well, that's quite the tale. I commend your thinking of others and your quick response to help a fellow student. Also, there's no problem with spending the night in another students room. It's not something we encourage, but as long as everyone observes the school rules, there isn't a problem. After all, we are not a brothel."
"Oh no, everyone was appropriately dressed at all times," I assured Ellen.
"However, being that were not in trouble, we now have another problem. We have to explain why we were called to your office," Mary Beth complained.
"Oh, MayBee's right. The Black Sheep will want to know why you wanted to see us outside our normal time."
"Well, let's see, your current cover story is that you were recognized and that there may be a security breach. I suppose that continuing along that line will be the thing to do. Let's just say that I needed more detailed information about the events that occurred last Friday. Also to add some spice, we can say that there is an unofficial search being conducted of the various girl’s schools in the region," Ellen suggested.
"More details and confirmation that a search is being conducted, that works. It should be enough it keep the rest of the Black Sheep guessing and speculating for several days," I commented.
"Yes, that's perfect," Mary Beth agreed. "Now all we have to do is get called to either Mr. Peterson or your office every two to three days. A little bit more information each time and we'll keep them guessing until we leave for Edinburgh."
"Well, I can arrange to see you every few days. I won't be interrupting a class in the future, but I think something can be arranged," Ellen offered.
"Ellen, there's one thing I've been wondering. Is there anyone else that we should go explain everything to, like Elizabeth? I wouldn't want to be the cause of someone’s pain," I asked.
"Let's see, humm, not that I'm aware of at this time, but I'll keep your offer in mind. Before you leave I have something to show you. I recorded this yesterday evening." Ellen then turned on the television in the corner and started a play back from a DVR recorder.
"Good evening, this is your Eye Witness News at six."
"Tonight's top story is actually a continuation of a story that we covered last November, about a raid on an Estate in West Valley. At that time, when the police raided the Estate, they found twelve children in what has since been called a child sex dungeon. At that time we reported that the person or persons who actually set up and ran the dungeon could not be located. Most of our viewers were horrified that something like that could even exist, let alone exist in Salt Lake Valley. We base that statement on the number of calls, letters, and E-Mails we received after the story aired.
"Tonight's story is even more horrific, in that not one but three more of these child sex dungeons have been identified, simultaneously raided, and have now been shut down. One was located in Ogden, one in Provo, and a new one in Salt Lake Valley. All totaled, fifty children have been rescued. They will be returning to their families after being released from the various medical facilities, where they're being treated.
"Authorities all along the Wasatch Front are gathering to compare their open case files against the records recovered from the three locations. It hasn't been confirmed, but authorities from Ogden, Salt Lake, and Provo believe that most of the unresolved kidnapping cases, for the last four years, can now be closed.
"When we asked how these dungeons were located, we were told a very strange story that I'm not sure I believe, but here it is, according to the Salt Lake County, District Attorney. Last Wednesday, he received detailed information that identified the persons who were ultimately responsible for the facility in West Valley, from an anonymous preteen informant. The informant was reported to be a student from a school, located somewhere in the region. The information was found to be credible and acting on that information, the Walter Santino family, of Salt Lake City, were arrested, just after twelve noon last Friday. Records found at the Santino home confirmed that all three members of the family had active parts in the setup and operation of the various facilities. Also found at the Santino home, were three young girls. They have been identified as Susan Roskelley, age 6, of Cedar City, Margaret Sanchez, age 9, of Elko, Nevada, and Sylvia McDonald, age 8, of Idaho Falls. All three had been reported as kidnapped within the last fifteen days. The families of the three girls were notified Friday afternoon of the rescue. After the tearful reunions the families agreed to allow us to release the girls names.
"Walter Santino, comes from the Chicago Santino's and was under investigation by federal authorities, when he and his family disappeared five years ago. It has been confirmed that the Santino family have been living in a quiet subdivision Southwest of Liberty Park for the last four and a half years.
"June Santino has a degree in chemical engineering from Harvard and is reportedly the creator of the memory erasing drug, called Lights Out. Their son, who was attending school masquerading as a ten-year-old, is actually fifteen. He is reported to be rather small for a fifteen-year-old. Undoubtedly, taking after his mother, who at thirty-five is only four feet nine inches tall. According to the recovered records, young Mr. Santino was personally responsible for the kidnapping of thirty young girls through the use of candy laced with a drug that compelled the girls to follow his commands. Because of the number of charges against young Mr. Santino, The District Attorney's office is requesting that he be tried as an adult, having full knowledge of his actions and mental faculties.
"At this time, we don't have any information concerning hearings or trial dates. One of our reporters was in court when bail was set at one million for each suspect, however, we have confirmed that at this time all three members of the Santino family are still being held in custody. Mr. And Mrs. Santino are being held at the Salt Lake County jail, while their fifteen year-old son Is being held at the Salt Lake County juvenile correction faculty.
"We have a third hand report from the juvenile correction facility, indicating that young Mr. Santino refused to change into jumpsuit that all of the residents at that faculty are required to wear. The staff were reluctantly compelled to forcibly remove young Mr. Santino's clothes. Like I said, this is third hand information, but our informant indicated that Young Mr. Santino was wearing pink bloomers when he was arrested.
"Pink bloomers?" asked the co-anchor.
"That's what the report says, Cotton Candy Pink, with a large amount of inch and a half White Lace - around the waist and leg openings, and covering the bottom," the anchorman read.
"Well, I'm sure that information will follow young Mr. Santino for quite some time," the co-anchor commented.
"I'm sure your right about that. As for the arrests that were made at the newly discovered dungeons, we don't have a lot of information concerning the individuals at those locations at this time. As soon as we know the statutes of those individuals -
Ellen stopped the play back at that point, and looked directly at me. "Anything you want to tell me, Matilda?"
"About what?" I asked, somewhat confused.
"About the pink bloomers?"
"I didn't know anything about the bloomers until Kriss started giving orders and they put them on Walter."
"Ellen, Matilda really didn't know anything about the bloomers," Mary Beth said quietly.
Both Ellen and I looked at Mary Beth.
"Is there something you'd like to share with us?" Ellen asked Mary Beth.
Mary Beth started out slowly, but eventually told us the whole story, "Well, - - it was - kind of like this. Kriss and some of the other members of the beta team, came to talk with me and the rest of the Black Sheep about Walter. Matilda was with RJ and the others doing the programming, that's why she didn't know anything. They wanted to know more about the terrible things that Walter had done. I guess I went into a lot more detail than I've ever done before. In the end, everyone felt that it wasn't enough that Walter simply go to jail; we all agreed that he should have a taste of what he did to all his victims. Wally and George were the ones that suggested, what might happen to Walter, if he showed up at the detention center in girl’s panties. The discussion went from what he should be wearing, to how to get him into some panties. In the end, Kriss and the other betas said they'd take care of all the details. That's the last I heard about it until they put the bloomers on Walter. We, I mean me and the rest of the Black Sheep, didn't know exactly what the plan was, until Kriss started giving orders."
The room was quiet, with the exception of Ellen's clock. "Matilda, it appears that I owe you an apology," Ellen stated, while still looking at Mary Beth.
I took Mary Beth’s hand and asked, "Now then, exactly who is keeping secrets from whom?"
"I was going to tell you, but by the time we had a chance to talk, it was late and you were telling me about your programming. So I figured I'd tell you the next day, and the next day, and the next, and before you knew it the two weeks had passed and we were getting in the vans."
"Well, she sounds sincere," Ellen commented.
"Even if her timing was off," I added.
"Although, Matilda, she never really said she was sorry for keeping things from you."
"That is true, but I have a feeling she'll ask me to forgive her this evening, after a sound spanking."
Ellen's eyes sprang open.
"Matilda, you wouldn't?" Mary Beth squealed in alarm.
I giggled, smiled, and said, "Of course not." Mary Beth looked visibly relieved, until I added. "I'll have George do it."
"Now Matilda, no violence," Ellen cautioned.
"Not to worry Ellen, a little teasing now and then, but you know I could never do anything that would hurt my dear partner."
"Um, that's study partner," Ellen corrected.
"Sorry, slip of the tongue."
"I'm sure," Ellen replied, skeptically. "I guess we're finished, for now. Although, it looks like I need to have a chat with Kriss. I'll talk with Mr. Peterson and we'll arrange a visit with one or both of you, every few days."
We thanked Ellen and dashed to the cafeteria. If we were fast, we could grab a sandwich before running to our next class, which was already in progress.
The next eleven days were all about the same; rushing to class, rushing to our language lesson with Jamous O’Malley. Oh yes, he was trying to teach us something about the Scottish dialects, we saw him three times each day, every time we used to have a break.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 37
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
To OZ?
To OZ!
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 37
By Penny Reed Cardon
February 12, 2005
Four days before we were to leave we had our last meeting with Mr. Peterson.
"Good morning ladies," Mr. Peterson greeted us, as we entered his office.
"Guid morn tae ye, Mr. Peterson," I replied, with a profoundly Scottish accent.
Mr. Peterson complemented, saying, "I see you've been as diligent in your language class as you have been in the rest of your classes."
"Aye, 'at we hae, Mr. Peterson, 'at we hae. Twas a struggle at first, but we managed tae gie th' hang ay it," I continued.
"And how well has Mary Beth taken to her language studies?" he asked, looking at Mary Beth and noting that she hadn't said a word, so far.
"Why surely now, Mr. Peterson, being quiet asn't become a sin now, as it?" she replied.
"Of course not," he chuckled.
"Being 'at there be soo much ta learn, we did split it up a wee bit. Ah concentrated oan th’ mair modern an’ th’ easily understuid dialects," Mary Beth started.
"While I concentrated on the on the older, or heavier accented dialects," I added.
"From what I'm hearing, it sounds like you've both succeeded admirable."
"Thank ye, Mr. Peterson," we chorused.
"We've worked huir uv a stoaner. Is everythin’ ready fur us tae lae next Wadensday?" I asked.
"Yes, everything is ready. I finalized the arrangements a week ago. You'll be flying from Salt Lake to Philadelphia. After a two hour layover, you'll board another plane for the seven hour flight to London, Heathrow. After being cleared through customs, and another layover, you'll board a third plane for the last leg of your trip, landing in Edinburgh a little before noon of the 17th, of course that would be local time."
"Tois days oan planes an’ airports, withit changin’ clase ur takin’ a shower, we’ll min’ (Two days on planes and airports, without changing clothes or taking a shower, we'll stink)," Mary Beth complained.
Mr. Peterson quickly calmed Mary Beth down, "It won't be that bad Mary Beth. After all, how strenuous is sitting or casually walking around an airport? That's what you'll be doing, for those two days."
"Ah guess yoo're reit, sittin’ an’ walkin’ isnae ‘at stoaner. But still, tois days!" she complained.
"Mr. Peterson, coods ye arrange fur a travel size container ay dreich wipes (Wet Wipes), ur somethin’ loch ‘at? We coods use them tae freshen up, in a private restroom," I requested.
"At's a guid idea," Mary Beth agreed.
"Yes, indeed, Matilda. An excellent suggestion, I'll make the arrangements for them right away.
"Mr. Peterson, th’ flecht tae London, ‘at's an overnecht flecht, correct?" I inquired.
"Yes it is, why?"
"Och, Ah was thinkin’ abit changin’ intae a nightgoon efter we dak’ aff an’ changin’ back affair wa lain, (Oh, I was thinking about changing into a nightgown after we take off and changing back before we land,)" I replied.
"Nae a bad idea, Munchkin," Mary Beth agreed.
As long as you change in the lavatory."
"Weel, Ah nae gonnae change in th’ aisle!" Mary Beth exclaimed.
"Nor would I expect you to do something so obviously indecent. However, I've heard of people, of various ages, who change their clothes in their seats, while covered with a blanket. Although, the airline personal take a dim view of that practice."
"That's okay, I'll tak’ th’ privacy ay th’ lavatory, ower th’ possibility ay accidental exposure every time," I stated.
"Ye an’ me baith," Mary Beth added.
"And I'll make it three, if I were going and if changing into pajamas was socially acceptable for a gentleman of my years."
Both Mary Beth and I were giggling at the prospect of Mr. Peterson running around an airplane in his pajamas.
Changing the subject, I asked, "Is mah passport ready an’ am Ah supposed tae keep it wi’ me?"
"Your passport arrived this morning. Being that you're under age, RJ will carry both of your passports," he replied. "Tuesday evening, a small suitcase will be left in each of your rooms. They should be large enough for two or three changes of clothes plus your tooth brush and any other toiletries or hair supplies you might wish to take. They are the largest cases that are allowed as carry on luggage. If you have questions about what to take or how to pack, I'm sure anyone from the older years would be happy to answer your questions."
"’At takes caur ay th’ trip details, but Ah hae an unrelated question. Can ye arrange fur whit woods appear tae be an inspection by th’ board ay education? (That takes care of the trip details, but I have an unrelated question. Can you arrange for what would appear to be an inspection by the Board of Education?)" I asked.
"You want me to deliberately invite a government inspection?"
"’At isnae whit Ah speart. Ah speart, if ye coods arrange whit woods appear tae be an inspection by th’ board ay education. Surely yoo’ve bin ben an inspection ur tois, sae ye woods be able tae coach someain’ free a body ay th’ schools support aread, as tae hoot ae act an’ whit tae ask. (That isn't what I asked. I asked, if you could arrange what would appear to be an inspection by the Board of Education. Surely you've been through an inspection or two, so you would be able to coach someone, from one of the schools support areas, as to how to act and what to ask.)"
"Support areas?" he asked.
"Ay coorse, someain frae th’ laundry or security ur somewhaur else. Jist someain ‘at th’ student hae ne’er seen, (Of course, someone from the laundry or security or somewhere else. Just someone that the students have never seen,)" I explained.
"Okay, I think I know what you're asking, but you haven't said why."
"Weel, we ne’er actually tauld th’ others when we waur gonnae Auld Reekie. Sae tysday, after uir meetin’ wi’ Ellen we can teel them ‘at some inspectors ur comin’ an’ it woods be best if Mary Beth an’ Ah werenae haur. We’ll tell them th’ trip tae Auld Reekie was pushed up an’ we’re leavin’ Wadensday morn, which we ur. ‘En oan fuirsday t’ sae called inspectors shaw up, attend some ay th’ classes, ask questions, hae some picters ‘at they compaur against lae ay th’ Black Sheep, possible interview some ay them. (Well, we never actually told the others when we were going to Edinburgh. So Tuesday, after our meeting with Ellen we can tell them that some inspectors are coming and it would be best if Mary Beth and I weren't here. We'll tell them the trip to Edinburgh was pushed up and we're leaving Wednesday morning, which we are. Then on Thursday the so called inspectors show up, attend some of the classes, ask questions, have some pictures that they compare against the rest of the Black Sheep, possible interview some of them)." I explained, in much more detail.
"Humm, that's pretty elaborate for a hoax. But, I think I know a few people that would enjoy taking part in such an elaborate ruse. What pictures are you talking about?"
"Frae Marry Beth’s birthday ceilidh, lest year. Mah mammy took lost ay picters. Aam sure she’d coods gie some fur th’ inspectors tae flash around. Ay coorse, Ah was wearin’ th’ broon wig an’ we waur baith in fancy ceilidh dresses. An’ wi’ us gein’ gain, nobody haur will swatch loch th’ burds in th’ picters. As lang as th’ inspectors ask th’ reit questions, a’ fowk can answer honestly. (From Mary Beth's birthday party, last year. My mother took lots of pictures. I'm sure she could get some for the inspectors to flash around. Of course, I was wearing the brown wig and we were both in fancy party dresses. And with us being gone, nobody here will look like the girls in the pictures. As long as the inspectors ask the right questions, everyone can answer honesty.)"
"Whit dae ye pure techt, th’ reit questions?" Mary Beth asked.
"Weel, if they ask th’ question ‘aur th’ onie other ten year-auld students oan campus? A’ folk can honesty answer nae, coz we wooldnae be oan campus when th’ question is speart, (Well, if they ask the question 'Are the any other ten year-old students on campus?' Everyone can honesty answer no, because we wouldn't be on campus when the question is asked,)" I explained.
"Och, Ah kin. It's loch when Ellen hud me dreich yer clase in th’ jawbox?" (Oh, I understand. It’s like when Ellen had me wet your clothes in the sink?) Mary Beth exclaimed.
"Ah! That’s it, noo ye kin." (Yes! That’s it, now you understand.) I replied.
"Now I'm confused, when did you wet Matilda's clothes in a sink and what did Ellen have to do with it?" Mr. Peterson asked.
Between the two of us we related the events that took place, on the first day that I started to impersonate Sally.
Once enlightened, Mr. Peterson continued, "Now I understand, both what Ellen was teaching you then and what you mean now, by asking the right questions. How many inspectors were you thinking of, Matilda?"
"Hoo mony warld th’ Board ay Education usually send, fur an inspection ay a skale thes size?" I questioned.
"The one and only time we've had an inspection by the Board of Education, they sent a team of three," he replied.
"Three it is," Mary Beth stated, with a smile.
"Was th’ inspection team haur a body ur tois days?" I asked.
"They were here for two days. We put them up in the four room suite that you occupied while Sally was with us." Came the reply, along with some additional information.
We spent another fifteen to twenty minutes talking about the trip to Edinburgh. Then we rushed to the cafeteria for a quick lunch before running to our next class. After dinner, we were all gathered in the year lounge and everyone wanted to know about today's meeting with Mr. Peterson.
While trying to look nervous, we informed everyone that the inspection teams had concluded their search of the private ALL girl schools in the area. About a third of our friends rejoiced, proclaiming that because the search was over we could all relax. That was when I dropped the next bomb. As calmly as I could, and while fighting to keep a straight face, I informed them that the search had been expanded to include all of the private co-ed schools. The joyous mood disappeared as fast as a snowball would disappear on a Phoenix sidewalk in August.
February 15, 2005
"Good evening Ellen," Mary Beth said, after we were granted permission to enter her office.
"Good evening ladies," Ellen replied. She was already seated in her overstuffed chair, awaiting our arrival.
"So, what's the latest unsubstantiated information on the search for two girls who are not missing?" I inquired.
"That's what I would like to know," Ellen replied, cheerfully. "Being that you two are the source of the unsubstantiated information, I'd like you to fill me in on the latest from the rumor mill."
Mary Beth giggled as she asked, "But, for a student to teach a teacher is presumptuous and rude."
It was quiet for a few moments, as Ellen leaned forward and regarded Mary Beth with a look that told us we might be in trouble. Without changing her expression, Ellen said, "I didn't know that Willy Wonka was in the school’s library of movies."
It was after she'd surprised us with her response that Ellen sat back in her chair, with a smile on her face.
It only took me a moment to realize Ellen had been pulling our leg. I quickly stated, "It isn't. Mary Beth has seen it and gave a brief synopses when we were discussing future movies, for movie night, with the rest of our classmates. We wondered if it could be added to the available movies."
"That's something to think about," Ellen replied. "Which version were you thinking about, the older one with Gene Wilder, or the more recent remake with Johnny Depp?"
"There’s a version with Johnny Depp?" Mary Beth asked.
"That answers that question. I'll try to get the 1967 version, it was the better of the two, in my opinion. I think the Black Sheep will enjoy it. Now, back to the question of the latest rumors, would you please fill me in, so I know how to reply to questions from the other students?"
We filled Ellen in on the discussion we'd had with Mr. Peterson, including the arrangements for the supposed inspection by some pretend Board of Education members. Just to add a little spice to the charade, Ellen agreed to meet with the Black Sheep, sometime Wednesday, to help them learn the art of answering a question, without lying, or giving away too much information. Ellen also agreed to talk with Beca and Lizy, so there wouldn't be any confusion or anxiety, when the inspection team showed up, Thursday morning.
"The Marshals are coming, so MayBee and I are getting out of Dodge!" I announced, once all the Black Sheep had gathered in the year A lounge.
"What do you mean 'The Marshals are coming'?" Niki asked.
"She means that the inspectors from the Board of Education are coming here," Mary Beth explained. "They called Mr. Peterson this afternoon, announcing their arrival on Thursday morning."
"And, 'Getting out of Dodge' means?" Misa asked.
"It means we're leaving for Edinburgh early tomorrow morning, like 1:00 am early, instead of sometime in mid-March," I elaborated, giving a little more misdirection information.
"But, you couldn't have learned to speak Scottish yet, it's only been two weeks since you started learning it," Howard stated.
"You're right, Howard. Two weeks is just enough time to get a start at a new language," Mary Beth agreed.
"So what are ya going to do?" asked George.
"Well, the idea wasn't for us to pass as natives, speaking fluently. Rather, we're supposed to understand enough of what's being said if or when someone is trying to converse behind our backs, thinking we don't understand them," I elaborated.
"But, it's still only been two weeks. How much could you have learned in that time?" Wally asked.
"About two weeks’ worth," Mary Beth sarcastically replied.
"We'll just have to do our best," I replied.
Knowing that we had to be awake and ready to leave by 1:00am, Mary Beth and I didn't stay and visit with the Black Sheep for very long. We also skipped out on our regular visit with Ellen. We had a short visit with Rachael earlier in the day and skipped choir practice that evening.
"What clothes should we take?" Mary Beth asked, as we went up to our rooms.
"For the day that we're checking out the new PDA's, I think we should wear our school uniforms. After all, we are representing the school. The rest of time, I suppose we can wear whatever we want."
"With the white knee-high?"
"I'm sure it'll be cold. I think the heavy white tights would be a better choice."
"Agreed."
"Those suitcases aren't very big," Mary Beth complained, once we saw them.
"If we fold everything neatly we should be able to packed three sets of clothes, stockings, underwear, and something to sleep in."
"Three sets of clothes?"
"Sure. We'll wear one outfit for the first two days, while traveling. Our uniform on Friday, at the manufacture. A different outfit for the two days traveling back. And one more outfit, just in case of something unexpected."
"It's going to be a tight fit in those bags."
"Well do the best you can." I said, as Mary Beth went to pack her suitcase.
As we were discussing what to pack, I had been mentally arguing with myself. I was trying to decide which form of protection to pack. In the end I concluded that, where I may not like them, the crinkly pull-ups would provide better protection if I couldn't guaranty finding a restroom whenever I needed one. Reluctantly, I went to my closest to get a supply of the pull-ups I'd been using. When I entered my closest, I was surprised to find something new on top of the dresser drawers. Sitting in plain sight was a colorful package of Girls, Under Jams with an envelope on top. I smiled as I read the note.
Matilda,
Knowing that restroom locations may be uncertain while traveling and your dislike for the audibly detectable protection you had been using, I procured these for your use. According to reports they are quiet and undetectable under normal clothing.
Enjoy your trip.
Ellen
I opened the package and examined one of the Under Jams and I was very pleased. They didn't crinkle or make any noise when I flexed and twisted them. I could tell they weren’t cloth but I'd say they were the next best thing. I grabbed a nightgown went into the bathroom. I undressed and dropped everything down the laundry chute. Then I pulled up the Under Jams, they weren't quiet as snug as the panties, but it felt like they should keep things in place. I guess that when I needed more protection than the pads offered, these will be quiet acceptable. Slipping on my nightgown and brushed my teeth before returning to my closest. There I picked up the package of Under Jams and went out to my bed where I emptied the package into my little suitcase. After a little organization I went after the rest of the clothes that I needed to pack. I managed to get everything in except for my black Mary Janes. About that time Mary Beth came in with her suitcase.
"All packed," she declared, as she set her suitcase by the door.
She came back to where I was trying to create space for my shoes, where there wasn't any. Curiously she picked up the empty Under Jams package. "What's this?"
"Something new that Ellen left for me."
"What, no more white, diaper looking things?"
"Well, they're still in my closest and I'll consider wearing one from time to time just to make you happy, but only because you think I look cute in them. However, Ellen thought these would be better for me when we're traveling and I agree, comfortable and no noise."
"Oh, so you've got one on do you? Let's see then."
I knew what she was suggesting and I was only too happy to disappoint her. Moving aside some clothes, I pulled one of the Under Jams out of my suitcase and offered it to her.
"You're not going to model them for me?" she asked.
"As soon as you start modeling your panties for me," I replied, matter of factly.
"Humm, okay, point made," smiling, she took the Under Jams from my hand. She looked them over and asked, "Are they comfortable?"
"They feel a little different from what I normally wear, but not in an uncomfortable way. They'll take just a little getting used to and then I probably won't notice the difference. Not at all like those white pull-ups I had to wear as Sally. I never got used to those."
"Well, as long as you don't get depressed and mopey on me; like you did before."
"Nope, no more mopey, grumpy, Munchkin here."
"That's good to hear. I'm going to get ready for bed. Back in a minute."
After Mary Beth had slipped through the door, I noticed that the she'd taken the Under Jams with her.
'Could it really be true, does Mary Beth have a hidden secret?'
It didn't matter how I arranged things, I just couldn't get the shoes into the suitcase and have it close properly. Then I remembered the pockets on the front. Quickly I folded everything back and pulled four of the Under Jams out, putting the shoes in the open hole. At last, the suitcase sipped closed and everything looked good. Then I put the four Under Jams and the wet-wipes, in the large front pocket, where it would be easy to get to them when needed. Lastly, the toothbrush in its plastic tube, the little tube of toothpaste, and brush, went into the small front pocket.
"You know, they are kind of snug," Mary Beth said, as she came back.
"I'll bet they're snug on you," I giggled. "They're only four sizes too small. You know, you can be really nutty sometimes."
"Yes, but you still love me."
"And I always will."
I set the alarm, we said our prayers, and we climbed into bed. With the prospect of getting only five hours sleep, I decided to talk about the possibility of Mary Beth hiding a secret for another day.
February 16, 2005, Barely.
This is another first, for this mixed up Munchkin, getting up at midnight is really strange. We’d gone to sleep at midnight a few times, but getting up at midnight isn't something I want to do on a regular basis. We managed to shower, dress, and find our way to the administration building, before 1:00 am, without falling down or freezing. We even managed a side trip, past the cafeteria for some fruit, which we called breakfast and would eat in the car.
We were a little surprised when we arrived in the, administration building, lobby. We expected to find RJ waiting for us, but we didn't expect to see Miss Adams.
"Good night RJ. Good night Miss Adams," I greeted.
"Good night?" Miss Adams asked.
"Well, it's way too early to be a good morning and it is practically the middle of the night," I explained.
Both RJ and Miss Adams chuckled, as Miss Adams replied, "I see your point. And a good night to both of you."
RJ quickly exchanged our standard PDA's for a couple of travel PDA's. Then we were off to the freezing parking lot, where our chariot waited. I don't know when RJ got up, but the car had been running for a while and was toasty warm inside.
I remember eating a banana and I remember waking up with my head on Mary Beth's lap, in the airport parking lot. The rest of the trip was a complete blank. After getting our suitcases out of the trunk, we walked to a lighted, transparent, shelter. There we waited for a bus to take us to the terminal. At least it wasn't as cold in the shelter as it was at the Manor.
I vividly remember the bus ride to the terminal, every bump and turn and stop changed the pressure on my bladder. I put up a valiant fight against the forces at play. I'd like to say I was victorious in my battle. I'd really like to say I was victorious, but I'd be lying. We'd just left the parking lot, heading for the terminal, when Mother Nature won and I lost.
Mary Beth must have been watching me, because shortly after I lost the battle of will verse weak muscles she learned over and whispered, "I'm sorry."
I turned to her and whispered, "Thanks. Stay close behind me, I don't know if I'm leaking."
"Of course I will," she whispered.
We sat quietly as the bus pulled up to the first terminal. As we were pulling up to the second terminal RJ indicated this was where we needed to get off. True to her word Mary Beth stayed close. At one point she slowed down, dropping back about ten to fifteen feet.
"Don't dawdle, Mary Beth," Miss Adams said when she noticed.
"Yes ma'am," Mary Beth replied, as she quickly caught up. Leaning down she whispered, "No sign of leaks."
"Thank goodness," I replied, with a sigh of relief.
A little farther down the walkway I noticed a sign for a family restroom. From past experience, I knew that a family restroom would have one toilet, a sink, a baby changing station, and a lockable door.
As we approached the restroom I called out, "Miss Adams?"
"Yes Matilda."
"I need to stop in here for a few minutes."
"Now, Matilda?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Very well, Matilda. We'll wait here. RJ hold up a minute."
I entered the restroom and locked the door. Setting my suitcase by the door, I folded down the baby changing station to lay my coat over. Stripping from the waist down, I quickly cleaned up and pulled on a fresh pair of Under Jams. Dry again I dressed and exited to join the others.
"Ready to go?" Miss Adams asked.
I could feel myself blushing as I nodded.
Miss Adams knelt down and took my free hand, "There's no need to be embarrassed, Matilda. Ellen briefed RJ and myself. What you had to go through, helping Sally and her family, was very courageous. No one here will think badly of you or do anything to embarrass you. You're very special to all of us. You let me know if you need anything."
I smiled and nodded again. I was still a little embarrassed that they knew about my problem. At the same time I was relieved to know that I had friends that were looking out for me.
RJ had gotten our boarding passes while I was changing. Being that we weren't checking any luggage, we headed for the security checkpoint.
"Everything okay in the restroom?" Mary Beth whispered in my ear, as we waited in line.
Considering the subject Mary Beth brought up, I kept my reply to a barely audible whisper as well, "Well, I'm down one and I think I messed up by wearing tights."
"What's wrong with the tights? Didn't they keep your legs warm?"
"Oh, they did a great job of keeping me warm. The problem is that when I have to change the Under Jams, I have to strip off everything from the waist down."
"Oh, now I see why you went for the family restroom. It would be really embarrassing, changing like that in a little stall, in a very public restroom, even for me. By the way, you're down two. I hope me playing around with one of the Under Jams, last night, doesn't make you run short."
"I don't think I'll run short. We're only going to be gone five days and there were fifteen in the package. At school I've only been using one of the pads, so as long as there are restrooms close by I should be fine."
"Well, we'll be in airports and airplanes for the next two days, so there should always be something close by."
I nodded my agreement, as we reached the front of the line.
What fun security is; check the boarding pass against your photo I'D and the individual, suitcase on the conveyor, toothpaste perfume PDA and shoes in one plastic tub, coat in another tub, walk through the archway and hope the alarm doesn't go off. Collect everything at the other end, hoping they don't want to search your bag.
We were a little early so we stopped and got some breakfast sandwiches and OJ at one of the food vendors that dotted the concourse. We had a few minutes to spare when we arrived at the gate, so we took some time to eat and relax before boarding.
Mary Beth was getting really excited as they started boarding our flight. Of course there was the usual boarding announcements over the PA.
"First we'd like to board families with small children along with anyone that needs special help."
A few minutes later we hear;
"Thank you for your patience. Now we'd like to board our first class passengers."
"That's us," RJ said, as he started for the boarding gate.
Mary Beth jumped to get right behind RJ. "Were flying first class, Munchkin. Isn't that great?"
"Yeah, just great," I replied, with just a bit of sarcasm in my voice. As I followed Mary Beth.
RJ had reached the gate and handed over his boarding pass as well as mine and Mary Beth's. The ticket agent looked at the three passes and the three of us. Smiling he ran them through a scanner and handed them back to RJ. "Enjoy your flight ladies."
Mary Beth giggled.
I smiled and said, "Thank you."
"You don't sound very excited to be in first class, Matilda," Miss Adams stated, as she followed behind me, down the companionway.
"Remember, I've flown first class before. I'm not looking forward to sitting in a booster for the next four and a half hours."
"Yes, I remember that trip. I'm not sure you'll have to use a booster seat, this is a different airline and a different airplane. I'm sure the flight attendants will be able to think of something, we'll just do what we can do to make this trip more comfortable."
As we entered the aircraft, RJ went down the aisle and slipped into the second row, on the starboard side. Talking to Mary Beth and me, RJ said, "You two are in the next row."
I slipped into the next row, followed by Mary Beth. Almost before I had a chance to breath, let alone sit down, Mary Beth was pulling on my shoulder pointing out the window. "Look how they're loading the rest of the luggage."
"Yeah," I eloquently replied. "Sort of like gorillas playing with blocks. I'm glad we didn't need anything bigger than these little suitcases, with changing planes twice; there's no guaranty that we and our luggage would end up in the same place."
"Oh, Matilda, can I sit by the window? Humm. Please?"
"Sure, I've seen clouds before."
"Clouds?"
"That's right, clouds. Once we're in the air all we'll see are clouds and blue skies."
"That's okay, I'd still like to sit next to the window."
"It's no problem, the window seat is all yours," I said with a smile, as we changed places.
Then Mary Beth gave me a big hug and she sat down. As for me, I slid my suitcase under the seat in front of me. Then I proceeded with a little used maneuver consisting of a hop, grab, and pull, as I climbed into my seat.
I nervously sat back, quietly watching the long line of passengers walk past me. I made eye contact with some, with others I avoided eye contact. In general I was assessing the threat level of each one as they passed by. My survival instincts were on high alert, as I pushed myself as far away from the flow of traffic as possible, some habits are hard to break.
After all the other passengers had gone past, I calmed down and started thinking about my seatbelt question. Looking along each side of my seat, I pulled out the seatbelts and inserted the tab into the buckle. I pulled on the loose end until my munchkin size muscles cried enough. Sadly I was able to slide forward about six inches.
Sliding back I cried out for help, "Mary Beth, can you get this seatbelt any tighter?"
She reached over with both hands and pulled hard, "That's it, Munchkin. I can't get it any tighter."
"Thanks." I replied, as I stroked the seatbelt. "It’s as tight as a guitar string." Sliding forward I was still able to move five to six inches. "But it's still too big for me. This really sucks."
"It’s just a lit loose, what's the problem?" Mary Beth asked.
"The problem is, that because it’s so loose they'll treat me like a little kid and put me in a booster seat. I sure hope Dr. Harris can figure out why I'm not growing and fix it so I can."
I guess Miss Adams heard me talking to Mary Beth, because she went up front and talked with one of the flight attendants. Miss Adams came back and sat down and the flight attendant went back into the coach section of the aircraft.
Mary Beth was still standing, looking out the window. "They've finished with the luggage out there. Hey, that ramp has its own motor, a guy just got on and drove it away like a long go-cart. That looks like fun, but those earmuffs would sure wreck a girl’s hairdo."
Just then the flight attendant appeared next to my seat. "Miss," She was looking at Mary Beth. "You need take your seat and put your seatbelt on."
Mary Beth quickly sat down and started fumbling with her seatbelt.
"Excuse me Miss." The flight attendant was definitely looking at me this time. "It appears that you're not being properly restrained by that seatbelt." 'I knew what was coming next, the talk about needing the booster seat. "Company policy says that we have to put you in a booster seat, for your safety. Unfortunately, we don't have one on board at the moment. By the time we contact maintenance, get a seat brought over, move the companionway back to the plane, and get you situated, it could delay the flight almost an hour. Instead of delaying the flight, I was wondering if you would do me a favor."
I smiled as I replied, "Forget about the booster, but say I had one if anyone asks?"
"Oh, we couldn't do that, like I said, the booster is for your safety. What I was thinking is, the seats in coach are a little smaller and I think they'll fit you a little better while keeping you safely restrained. So, with your consent of course, I'd like to escort you to a seat in coach while we take off. Once they turn off the ‘Seatbelts’ sign I'll come get you and escort you back up here."
"No booster seat?" I quietly asked.
"No booster seat," she confirmed, with a smile.
"Do you have two seats together, so my friend can come with me? It's her first time in an airplane."
"I'm afraid we're pretty full today. I didn't see two empty seats together."
Turning to Mary Beth I asked, "Will you be okay by yourself?"
"I think I'll be okay, by myself, for twenty minutes." she replied.
"You sure? I'll stay here if you want me to."
"That's our Munchkin, thinking of others before herself," Miss Adams said, as she turned back to face us. "Go on, Matilda, take the seat where you'll be comfortable. I'll sit with Mary Beth during the takeoff."
"If you're sure," I replied, as I reached for the seatbelt buckle. "Umm, I think I'm going to need a little help here. We got it so tight, I can't get the buckle to release."
There was some giggling all around as the flight attendant gave the buckle a firm pull, freeing me.
"Thanks," I said politely, as I slid out of the seat.
I followed the flight attendant towards the back of the airplane, about ten rows before she stopped. "Excuse me ladies," she spoke to two elderly ladies, with an empty seat between them.
"Is there a problem," the lady sitting next to the aisle asked.
"Not a problem, just a small favor. It seems this young lady is a bit small for the seatbelts in first class and I was wondering if you two would keep her company during our takeoff?"
They both took a look at me and smiled. "We'd be happy to," they both replied.
"Thank you," I replied.
The lady on the aisle moved her feet so I could slide past. Smoothing my skirt down, I sat on the edge of the seat. Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted and moving backwards.
"There you are, all settled in," said the lady on my left, as she fished out half of my seatbelt. She appeared to be well over sixty years of age.
"Yes, we know how troublesome it can be, sliding backwards in such a lovely skirt," the lady on my right explained, fishing out the other half of the seatbelt. She also appeared to be over sixty years of age. "By the way, I'm Margaret Baldwinn."
"Oh yes, and my name is Eleonore Baldwinn. Most folks call me Ellie."
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Eleonore, Miss Margaret. My name is Matilda."
"Oh my, so formal for such a young lady, Miss Eleonore and Miss Margaret. When was the last time we were addressed so formally, Margie?"
"Oh my, let me think - I believe it was when Walter and Joseph went to daddy, to ask for our hands in marriage. Do you remember sister?" Miss Margaret replied.
"Oh my, that was so long ago, sister, but I do remember. Daddy was on the back porch, in that old wicker chair."
"And he had his hunting rifle across his lap. Joseph and Walter were so nervous they wouldn't go up on the porch."
"That's right, they stood just beyond the azaleas. They had their hats in their hands and they was shaking like autumn leaves about to fall from the old maple tree."
"And when they finally asked daddy if they could marry us, daddy didn’t say a thing. He slowly raised his gun and pointed it right between those two fellas."
"They both looked so silly, scrambling around on the ground as daddy reached for the trigger."
"Oh my yes. Two fellas down and daddy only fired one shot."
"It was a pity, I never saw Joseph again and he was such a cute fella," Miss Eleonore bemoaned.
"I ran into Walter about six months later. I tried to explain that daddy wasn't shooting at them, but he just wouldn't let me get close enough to say much."
"There was one good thing that came from all that excitement; that old fox never raided the hen house again."
"Now just how was that fox supposed to raid the hen house after daddy made a hat out of his hide?"
"Well, he never did."
"Oh sister, I just don't believe some of the things you say," Miss Margaret said, shaking her head.
Just then the jet engines roared and we started our takeoff roll. I'd been so involved in the tale, the sisters were telling, I hadn't noticed that we had moved to the runway.
After we were airborne, Miss Eleonore asked, "Why don't you tell us a little about yourself, Matilda?"
"I'm afraid there isn't much to tell," I replied, while trying to decide what I can tell them and what I can't. "My name is Matilda McNeill and I'm ten years old."
Miss Margaret interrupted me, "Excuse me, Matilda, but aren't you stretching the truth just a bit?"
"I'd say more than a bit sister. She can't be more than six or seven years old," Miss Eleonore added.
Growling, I jumped in quickly to redirect the conversation, "I assure you, I am ten years old. The fact that I stopped growing just before my eighth birthday has caused me no end of grief. There were several bullies at my old school who felt they're sole purpose in life was to tease and torment me, because of my size."
"Oh, you poor dear," Miss Eleonore interrupted.
"However did you manage to study with that going on?" Margaret inquired.
"Fortunately for me, I was able to change schools. My new school is fantastic. Nobody bullies me. Everyone their respects one another. The schools doctor is trying to figure out why I'm not growing. And the staff really care about each student, we aren't just processed through the school system."
"Oh, that's wonderful that you've found people who care about you, isn't that right sister?" Miss Eleonore asked.
"Yes indeed sister. A proper education with proper educators who care, that's essential for young children, these days."
"Tell us more about this wonderful school of yours," Miss Eleonore prodded.
"Let's see, they teach all the usual things, mathematics, English, science, geography, and computers. Then there's the music and theatrical stuff."
"What sort of music, not the horrible noise that comes out of the radios these days, is it?" Miss Margaret inquired, with an air of distaste.
"Oh no, our choir director wouldn't let us sing or play anything like that."
"A choir, how nice. What sort of music do you sing?"
"Me? Oh, I don't sing. If I even think about singing, everyone else would run for some ear plugs." I giggled at the slight exaggeration. "There's something wrong with my ears, I don't hear tones correctly. So when I try to match a tone with someone else, my voice is way off. I actually play the Glockenspiel in the orchestra."
"You don't hear correctly, but you play the Glockenspiel. How can you play if you can't here the tones?" Miss Margaret wanted to know.
"My sense of timing is very precise and for the Glockenspiel each note represents a specific bar. So I just have to hit the right bar at the right time. It sounds funny to me, but it's what I'm used to hearing. So I just strike the right bars, at the right time, and it will sound like music to everyone else."
"That is one of the strangest things I've heard, tone deaf but plays the Glockenspiel," Miss Margaret admitted, while shaking her head.
"I can do you one better. I've seen a video of a young lady that plays the Xylophone with her shoes off," I told them.
"Why would she play with her shoes off?" Miss Eleonore asked.
"Because she's deaf. She feels the music through her feet and she plays wonderfully."
"Now I know you're fibbing," Miss Margaret commented.
"Not at all. Her name is Evelyn Glennie. Like I said, I've only see the one video, but it did show her playing with her stockings on, but no shoes."
"Evelyn Glennie, I'll have to watch for her. And where would we go to see you perform?" Miss Margaret asked.
"I really couldn't say. We're a small school and we don't perform outside the school, very often. Not to mention that, as students we don't know when or where we'll be performing until a few weeks beforehand."
'This is getting a little too close to home. What should I say if they ask the name of the school? I wish I could use my PDA to contact RJ.'
Just then my salvation appeared, in the form of my friendly flight attendant. "Have you been behaving yourself, Matilda?"
"Oh my yes," Miss Eleonore replied.
"She's a wonderful traveling companion," Miss Margaret added.
"That's good to hear. Are you ready to rejoin your friends, in first class?" the flight attendant asked.
"Yes ma'am," I replied, as I un-hooked my seatbelt and slid forward. "It has been a pleasure meeting both of you and I look forward to visiting with you before we land."
Mary Beth was looking out the window as I stepped from the aisle to stand between the seats. Quietly, I slipped up behind her, and asked, "Anything interesting out there?"
"AAAAHH. Oh Matilda, it's you. What do you think you're doing, scaring me like that?"
"I didn't know I was scary, a little strange I'll admit, but I wouldn't say I’m scary looking. I was just wondering what you're looking at."
"Oh, you nut. You may not be scary, but you can still scare people. Anyway, doesn't that cloud look like a dragon?"
"Which cloud?" I asked, slipping between Mary Beth's legs and the back of RJ's seat.
"That one, straight out and to the left," she pointed. "See, there's the head with pointed ears, and there's the open mouth with jagged teeth."
I looked at the cloud formation Mary Beth was pointing to; it took me a few moments to adjust my thinking. Slowly, the dragonhead came into focus. "Okay, now I see it. Fortunately, there's something missing."
"What's that?"
"The rest of the dragon. That's a pretty big head, if the rest of the dragon was out there it would be enormous, almost big enough to eat this plane."
Mary Beth looked at me strangely, like she was trying to figure out if I was serious or not. Me, I fought hard to keep a straight face so she'd think I was serious.
"You do know that dragons are mythical, they don't really exist, right?" Mary Beth asked.
"They don't?" I asked, as seriously as I could.
"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Matilda?"
I cocked my head a little to the right, and asked "What's a Matilda?"
Mary Beth pushed herself as far back into her seat as she could, while saying, "RJ, Miss Adams, I think we have a problem."
RJ looked back at us and ask, "Matilda, are you doing you’re captured by aliens routine again?"
I slowly turned to look at RJ, "You just don't know how to play along."
Suddenly a pillow collided with the back of my head, causing me to lose my balance, slightly.
"Now Mary Beth, no violence," Miss Adams scolded, while giggling at our antics.
I snatched the pillow off the floor and with my arm cocked, I turned to face Mary Beth. Miss Adams called my name a fraction of a second before the pillow went flying. The pillow landed in my seat, as I looked at Mary Beth with an evil grin.
"That gives me one free shot next time the pillows are flying," I said, as I climbed into my seat, sitting on the pillow.
"But only one," Mary Beth replied, with a smile.
"I thought you two were going to behave yourselves?" RJ asked.
"We are behaving ourselves," Mary Beth stated.
"After all, we didn't bring our slingshots or our squirt guns," I added.
"You don't have any slingshots or squirt guns," RJ said.
"That's why we didn't bring them," Mary Beth replied.
Turning to Mary Beth, I asked, "You did pack the water balloons didn't you, for tomorrow night at the hotel?"
"Two dozen." Mary Beth said, proudly.
RJ was looking a little flustered and was starting to turn red. "All right you two -"
Miss Adams interrupted RJ by placing her hand on his arm. "You don't see these two together very often, do you, RJ?"
"No, but what's -"
"It's just the way they are, just two friends having fun."
"They're like this all the time?" RJ asked.
Mary Beth quickly replied, "No."
"Only when were awake," I added.
"And not in class," Mary Beth finished.
"Yes, well, you've had your fun, now it's time to get serious," Miss Adams said. "Your lessons for the three days that you'll be missing have been loaded onto your PDA's. We have about three and a half hours before we land in Philadelphia. Let's see how much you can accomplish?"
"So much for a break," Mary Beth moaned.
"RJ, are there twelve volt power jacks in first class, so we can plug in the travel chargers?" I asked.
"I'll find out. For now, just work until the low battery alarm flashes. Just remember to shut down the Wi-Fi, airline rules, no transmitters. We have a two hour layover in Philadelphia, we should be able to plug in the standard chargers there."
"How do I shut down the Wi-Fi?" Mary Beth asked.
I smiled and held out my hand to Mary Beth, "Just power it up and hand it to me."
It took just a couple of keystrokes and I handed the PDA back to Mary Beth. The same keystrokes on my PDA and I was ready to dig into today's lessons.
Three hours later and I had completed just over half of my work, plus helped Mary Beth with hers. Guessing when my escort would arrive, I made one last restroom run before landing. Then I had a quiet talk with RJ. I explained about the Baldwinn ladies and the conversation we'd had. Then I asked him, what do we say if someone asks the name of the school.
"Just refer to the school as, The Manor. If they question further, you can say it's a school for gifted students," RJ replied.
"Does that mean I'm gifted?" Mary Beth asked.
"Of course it does. Everyone is gifted in one way or another," Miss Adams replied, with a smile.
"And, you'd have to be gifted to put up with me for all these years," I added.
"That may be true, Munchkin, but I don't think most people consider insanity a gift," Mary Beth teased."
"OH, so you're saying a person would have to be insane to put up with me?" I exclaimed, obviously trying to sound hurt.
"It's more like my families motto; you don't have to be crazy to live here, but it helps," Mary Beth replied. That had all of us giggling.
Right on time, my friendly Flight Attendant appeared, almost out of thin air. "Are you ready to go back to your other seat?" she kindly asked.
"Sure. Are you going to come and get me after we land?" I asked.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to, the aisle will be too crowded. I'm sure your friends wouldn't mind waiting for you, right here. We'll just ask those nice ladies to escort you this far. After all, they'll be walking right past here anyway."
"That works for me. Everyone okay with that plan?"
Everyone agreed, so I pocketed my PDA and off we went, I wondered what the sisters would talk about this time.
"Well, there's our young traveling companion," Miss Eleonore said, with a smile.
I quickly slipped past Miss Margaret and smoothed down my skirt before sitting on the edge of the seat. Once again I was lifted and moved back.
"And our newest friend, perhaps our youngest friend." Miss Margaret added, as she fumbled with one half of the seatbelt.
"What about little Pricilla Walker, isn't she younger than Matilda?" Miss Eleonore asked, as she pulled out the other half of the seatbelt.
"Pricilla grew up years ago, sister. She has two children of her own," Miss Margaret stated, as she fastened the seatbelt.
"Oh my. Well what about Sue Anne Pickering, she's only eight," Miss Eleonore professed.
"Eight plus ten, sister. She's graduating from high school in June," Miss Margaret corrected.
"Really, are you sure? Well, what about that little girl that bought Uncle Edward's company. She is only a little older than Matilda," Miss Eleonore proudly pronounced.
"You're right about one thing Sister, Miss Drake was fourteen when she bought Uncle Edward's company, but that was more than thirty years ago, Sister," Miss Margaret again corrected.
"Oh my, where have the years gone Sister? Margie, is it possible that we are getting old?"
"Of course not, sister. We passed old quite some time ago. I think we're approaching ancient,"
Through the entire exchange I was softly giggling.
"Matilda, you think it's amusing to grow old," Miss Margaret asked.
"My apologies Miss Margaret, Miss Eleonore. I was not giggling because of the number of times you've journeyed around the sun. I was giggling because you remind me of myself and my friend Mary Beth."
"Oh my, sister. I like the way she said that, didn't you?" Miss Eleonore asked.
"The way she said what?" Miss Margaret asked.
"She didn't say we were old. She said we've been traveling a lot," Miss Eleonore explained.
"But we are old, sister," Miss Margaret stated.
"No we've just traveled around the sun quite a few times," Miss Eleonore said.
"Sister, the earth travels around the sun, and it takes a year to make the journey," Miss Margaret explained.
"Which makes the earth old, not us. We just went along for the ride," Miss Eleonore declared.
"Oh, sister, you're just impossible," Miss Margaret exasperatedly sighed.
As the planes wheels came in contact with ground and we started slowing down, I cheerfully stated, "Touch down! That make four times I've been in a plane, four successful take offs and successful four landings. I think it's kind of nice when the number take offs and landings equal each other."
"Of course they equal each other. They have to equal each other, Matilda," Miss Margaret said.
"You know what they say, what goes up, must come down," Miss Eleonore added.
"Naturally, but it's the way they come down, that's the question. I did say successful landing, which implies that everyone happily arrived at the airport terminal. An unsuccessful landing would include smoke, fire, things breaking, and very unpleasant circumstances for all."
"Good heavens child, where do such strange thoughts come from?" Miss Margaret asked.
Miss Eleonore looked at me like I'd suddenly sprouted a second head.
"I'm sorry. When I was being bullied daily, not only was I on the constant look out for an escape route or location to hide, I was constantly thinking about what would happen if I didn't get away or hide."
"Oh my, how positively dreadful. That's no way for a child to live," Miss Eleonore exclaimed.
"Certainly, you don't have to constantly be on your guard anymore?" Miss Margaret asked.
"No, no I don't, but old habits are hard to break."
"Well now, knowing what some of my habits are, I would tend to agree with you, Matilda," Miss Margaret said, slowly nodding her head. "Perhaps, rather than trying to break our old habits, we should work on developing new habits."
"Humm, new habits, like helping others or helping people who can't help themselves?" I asked.
"Yes, something along those lines I imagine would be considered a good habit," Miss Eleonore agreed.
As the activities of last four months flashed across my mind, I said, "I think I'm well on my way to making it a habit."
"Wonderful, let's make a toast, to new habits," Miss Margaret exclaimed.
"But sister, we don't have anything to make a toast with," Miss Eleonore reminded her sister.
"Oh, you're right. Oh well, to new habits and new friends," Miss Margaret said, raising an imaginary glass.
Miss Eleonore and I raised our imaginary glasses and chorused, "To new habits and new friends."
The plane made a little jerk as it came to a sudden, but not unexpected, stop. Looking out the tiny window we could see the companionway being extended. It was a moment later that the Fasten Seatbelt signs were turned off.
Miss Margaret stood, reaching into the overhead compartment she extracted a large wheeled carry-on bag, which she passed to Miss Eleonore. She then extracted a second wheeled carry-on bag, which she set on the floor next to her. As the passengers were exiting the plane, row by row, our turn to move into the aisle quickly approached.
Miss Margaret looked at Miss Eleonore and asked, "Are you ready sister?"
"Ready." Came the reply.
"Are you ready Matilda?"
"Ready, willing, and able," I replied.
Smiling, Miss Margaret said, "To OZ?"
To which Miss Eleonore replied, "To OZ."
Of course I started laughing.
"Just what seems to be so funny?" Miss Margaret demanded.
I shook my head and motioned for them to move into the aisle, when it was our turn. Both the sisters looked at me strangely, but a moment later Miss Margaret moved into and started up the aisle. I followed, still laughing, but not so boisterously. Miss Eleonore followed after, still with a look of concern.
As we passed the little wall that separated first class from coach, I saw Mary Beth, RJ, and Miss Adams waiting. They were standing and when Miss Adams saw me I heard her say, "There's our missing Munchkin!"
Miss Margaret looked back at me and asked, "Munchkin?"
A moment later I heard Miss Eleonore ask "Munchkin?"
Cheerfully I replied "Munchkin."
"Well, I guess that explains your laughing a little while ago," Miss Margaret said, as she let Miss Adams go in front of her.
Mary Beth handed me my bag and got in line behind me and asked, "So these are the ladies you were sitting with?"
"But of course, we'll do the introductions once we reach the terminal," I replied.
Once the six of us had exited the airplane and made the turn to go up the companionway, Miss Margaret again ask, "Ready?"
Miss Eleonore and I chorused, "Ready."
Followed by Miss Margaret saying, "To OZ."
And we replied, "To OZ."
We couldn't lock arms, due to me being so short and we were each carrying or pulling a bag, but the three of us broke into song.
"Ohhhh, we'rrre off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of OZ. I hear he is a wiz of a wiz if ever a wiz there was . . ." of course I was singing very softly so I wouldn't be heard.
Both Mary Beth and Miss Adams joined in, while RJ abstained. So as we entered the terminal, with the five of us singing, there was some strange looks along with some laughing. It really didn't bother us, because we were having so much fun.
Our song ended and we stated laughing at ourselves. I then did the introductions for our merry little group. Before going our separate ways we exchanged addresses, of course Miss Adams gave them the P.O. Box for the Manor.
We stopped at the first restroom and took some time to freshen up a bit. From there we proceeded from terminal B to terminal E. It was a good thing there was a five hour layover, it took us half an hour to walk through three terminals and two concourses. Not to mention, dodging around the other passengers and motorized carts, as we made our way.
After running a marathon, we found the gate we'd be departing from.
“We’ve got about four hours before they start boarding, and it is about lunch time. What do you say about a nice sit down lunch, before we strap ourselves into that long aluminum cigar, with wings?” RJ asked.
Down the concourse a little farther, was a nice food court where we each managed to find something appealing. After finishing lunch, we went back to the waiting area and found some outlets. RJ pulled out the chargers and we all plugged in our PDA’s. Miss Adams and RJ’s PDA’s, didn’t really need charging, but after crossing the pond, we’d all have to use an adapter on the chargers. While waiting, and with the PDA’s charging, Mary Beth and I took advantage of the time to finish our schoolwork. About ninety minutes before we would depart; two representatives of the Airline showed up at the ticket counter and RJ went to speak with them.
I knew the look on RJ’s face, he wasn’t getting the answers he needed or was happy with. Apparently, with some reluctance, one of the Airline reps picked up the phone and made a call, handing the phone to RJ. After several minutes on the phone, RJ handed the phone back.
After RJ came back and sat down, Miss Adams asked, “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait for the plane to arrive, before I’ll be able to answer that question,” he replied. “I explained that I didn’t like our group being separated, so I asked about the plane we’ll be on from here to London. The folks at the ticket counter didn’t know anything about the seatbelts, so I requested they called the airlines maintenance department. After I explained to the maintenance manager the problem we had on our last flight and asking about this plane, he had to confess that nobody could answer my questions. Eventually he agreed to send someone up to visually inspect the plane.”
Ten minutes later, someone from the airline, wearing a tool belt, arrived at the ticket counter and RJ went to meet him. A few minutes later, they disappeared through the door that led to the concourse. All of the PDA’s had completed their charge cycle, so while RJ was off inspecting the plane I packed up the chargers.
It was about fifteen minutes before the door to the concourse opened and RJ emerged, followed by the gentleman from the airline, with the tool belt. They both went over to see the agent at the ticket counter.
After RJ came back and sat down, Miss Adams again asked, “So, is everything all right?”
“It is now,” RJ said, as he turned towards us. It turns out that, on this plane the seatbelts are adjustable, you just need a couple of wrenches to move them. So with the boarding passes, we were assigned in Salt Lake, we adjusted the seatbelts for Matilda’s seat. You did want the window seat on this flight, didn’t you?”
“Um, sure. The window seat is just fine. RJ, what would have happened if they weren’t adjustable,” I asked.
“Then I would have rebooked all four of us into coach. Who packed up the chargers?” he asked.
“Everything was charged, so I put everything back in your bag,” I replied.
“Very neatly too. Thanks.”
Fifteen minutes later, they opened the door and started boarding the flight.
‘Yes, I’m glad to say that the seatbelt fit perfectly. I wonder what the odds would be of getting the same plane and seat when we come back home, I’m sure Spock would say, astronomical.’
Once the captain had turned off the ‘Seat Belts’ sign, I pulled my nightgown out of my bag and headed for the lavatory.
“What’s this all about?” RJ asked, as I was passing by, in my night gown.
“Well, it’s after six now and it will be after six in the morning when we land, London time. Mary Beth and I plan on sleeping most of the way. We just figured we might as well be as comfortable as possible,” I replied, with a smile.
The flight attendants were serving dinner when I got back to my seat, so Mary Beth waited until she finished her dinner before changing. One of the flight attendants saw our nightgowns and got us a couple of pillows and blankets.
After quietly saying our prayers, we leaned back the seats, loosened our seatbelts so we could lay on our sides, reached across to hold hands, and settled down for a few hours sleep.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 38
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
I could get addicted to this feeling,
helping others.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 38
By Penny Reed Cardon
Thursday, February 17, 2005.
There's only one thing that's more unnerving than waking up in a strange place, and that's waking up in a strange place with strange person looking down at you.
A startling moment later I remembered where I was and that face looking down at me was one of the female Flight Attendants. "I'm sorry if I startled you, luv. Your friend said it was okay to wake you."
"Where is my friend?" I asked.
"She nipped off to the lavatory. Judging by the bundle she was carrying, I imagine she's changing out of her jammies. We'll be serving breakfast very soon. I'm assuming you'll want to change out'a your lovely nightgown before we land. Would you like something ta eat before, or after, you change?" came the friendly reply.
"I think I'd like to change first."
"Very good, miss. I'll check back in a few minutes."
I slid out of my seat and opened my bag. Collecting everything I needed, I carefully wrapped what I didn't want to show off into the middle of my bundle. As I approached the lavatory’s, the door to one of them swung open, and Mary Beth stepped out.
"Oh, good morning, Munchkin."
"Morning, MayBee."
"Did you order your breakfast yet?" Mary Beth asked.
"Not yet. I thought I'd change first. You can order for me, you know what I like."
"Be happy to. See you in a few."
"Don't leave without me," I jokingly teased, while heading for the lavatory.
I carefully arranged everything on the limited counter space. Pulling off my nightgown, I started with the wet wipes. The wipes were a bit chilly but I still felt cleaner when I was done, even though I was putting on the same clothes, I was wearing the day before. Breakfast was nothing to rave about, but airline food is better than hospital food.
When we touched down in London, everyone started clapping, which was a little puzzling, because I didn't know why. Mary Beth appeared to be just as puzzled as I was. Being that she was in the aisle seat, she leaned across the aisle and asked inquired about the applause. She was told it was to celebrate another successful Trans-Atlantic flight.
After getting off the plane, we followed the signs that took us to customs. Nothing unusual here, it was basically the same procedure we went through in Salt Lake City. Coat, shoes, and PDA in a plastic tub and my suitcase by itself. Naturally, I kept track of my things, as I went through one scanner and they went through another. I was surprised by the actions of a young customs agent. After my bag came out of the scanner, the agent picked it up and stood it on its side, and then ran the conveyor belt backwards, back into the scanner. As my bag came back out, the young customs agent walked alongside the conveyor, keeping pace with my bag.
As my bag neared the end of the conveyor, the customs agent put his hand on it and asked, "Whose bag is this?"
Rather timidly I raised my hand, so it was level with my face.
I assume the agent didn't see my hand, because he again asked, a little louder, "Whose bag is this?"
This time I raised my hand up as high as it would go.
This time the agent saw my hand go up. You could see his head move, as he scanned from my fingertips down my arm, until his eyes were locked onto mine. He paused a moment, just looking into my eyes, before he asked, "Who are you with little girl?"
A minor earthquake shook the conveyor, as I scowled at the agent and dropped my hand.
"Is there a problem?" RJ asked.
"Are you her parents?" he asked, looking at RJ and Miss Adams.
"Her parents? No, but we are responsible for both these young ladies. What seems to be the problem," Miss Adams replied.
The agent quickly scanned the four of us, saying, "You need to come with me." As he picked up my bag and escorted us into a small office.
Inside the office were two more customs agents and several desks. One agent was just hanging up his phone as we entered, he asked, "What's all this about, John."
"I think we've got a bag half full of narcotics," the agent, who we now knew as John, replied, as he set my bag on a desk.
I heard the third agent chuckling as Miss Adams asked, "Matilda, what do you have in there?"
"No drugs, that's for sure," I quickly replied.
"Wait until I tell everyone back home, Matilda was accused of smuggling drugs. The Black Sheep will be so proud of her," Mary Beth cheerfully teased.
John stood right in front of me and asked, "Who packed your bag little -"
"NO," Miss Adams squealed.
" - girl? OUCH! What the hell - she kicked me!" John complained.
"I'm sorry, she doesn't like being called 'little girl'," Miss Adams explained.
"But, she is a little girl," John stated, moving a little.
Swing, and a miss.
"She’s ten years old," Mary Beth said, gruffly.
Turning to address Mary Beth, he said, "That's ridiculous, she can't be more than six, maybe seven. OOOOUCH! Now stop that, or I'll lock you up for assault."
John's two associates were laughing like crazy. One of them interrupted his laughing to say, "I can see the headlines now, Johnny boy. Heathrow customs agent, jails a ten-year-old midget, because she kicked him when he insulted her."
This brought forth more laughter. I however was not amused and tried to stand tall, with my fists on my hips. Well, as tall as my shortness is capable of standing. Of course, my attempt at looking angry only resulted in renewed laughter.
"Mary Beth, would you try to calm down your study partner," RJ pleaded.
Mary Beth pulled me over to a couple of chairs, which were against a wall, and sat with me.
The, apparently, senior agent, came over to me and gentle asked, "Who packed your bag, miss?"
"I did!" I gruffly replied.
"Did anyone help you?" he asked.
I looked at Mary Beth, "Would you consider what you did helping?"
"Well, I took one item out, but I didn't put anything in," she replied.
"True." Turning back to the agent I replied, "No, nobody helped me pack my bag." I was quickly calming down, thanks to no longer being treated like a very small child, even though I might have looked like one.
"Did anyone ask you to carry anything in your bag for them?" the agent asked.
"No, there’s nothing in there for anyone else, only my things," I replied.
"Ok, thank you." Turning back to John the senior agent asked, "Ok John, why are we here?"
"I told you why, there's narcotics in that bag. She must be covering for one of these adults."
RJ and Miss Adams stood by, quietly watching and listening.
"Is it all right if we have a look, miss," the agent asked.
I slowly nodded, knowing that my secret, although known by my companions, was to be publicly displayed very soon. Mary Beth, knowing how I felt, put her arms around me for support.
"All right John, open it up, let's see these narcotics," the senior agent requested.
John set the bag on its back and tugged on the zipper handles. He was glaring at RJ and Miss Adams, I suppose he was expecting to catch a change in one of their expressions, as he flipped the open the cover. He continued to stare at RJ and Miss Adams as he thrust his hand into the bottom of my bag and pulled out a soft, object, holding it in front of the senior agent, without having looked at it.
"There!" John exclaimed.
Miss Adams was quietly giggling. RJ expression never changed, I'm not sure what he was thinking.
The other agent was laughing again, while the senior agent asked, "Excellent work there Johnny, excellent. I do have a couple of questions, are you supposed to inject it, swallow it, or smoke it?"
John finally looked at what he was holding, it almost scared him and he dropped the pink object.
"What the devil is that," John screamed.
"They're called UnderJams," Miss Adams calmly stated. "Matilda has a little problem."
"It's a what?" John questioned.
"It's a NAPPY," the senior agent replied.
"Technically yes. However, Matilda may take offense at her protective garment being referred to as a nappy or diaper," Miss Adams corrected.
The senior agent quickly shifted, placing John between me and himself.
"But in the x-ray it looked like bags of narcotics," John confessed.
"John, were you watching over the shoulder of the x-ray tech again?"
"Yeah, I guess I was," John admitted.
"That's why we have trained x-ray techs, John. He knew they weren't narcotics, but you weren't listening, again! I think you owe these good people an apology," the senior agent said, reprimanding John.
"I'm sorry I accused you of smuggling," John confessed.
"Matilda, is there something you'd like to say?" Miss Adams asked.
"I'm sorry I kicked you in the leg . . . twice," I said, even though I really wasn't.
"Pete, why don't you take John down to the dispensary for some ice packs, to sooth his wounded shins. Then a cup a tea, to sooth his wounded ego," the senior agent requested, while stifling his urge to laugh.
"Are we finished here?" RJ asked.
Once Pete and John had left, the senior agent replied, "Technically yes, you may leave at any time. However, I would like to ask a few questions if I may."
"Of course, Mister . . ." Miss Adams replied.
"I'm sorry, we weren't properly introduced, were we? I'm Malcolm Daily. Please forgive John, he's only been with us for a fortnight."
"Quite understandable. Now what can we do for you?" Miss Adams inquired.
Mr. Daily leaned forward and spoke with Miss Adams in hushed tones. After a few seconds Miss Adams expression changed, radically. She was obviously concerned about something.
Then she stopped Mr. Daily and asked, "Excuse me, but why are you asking those questions?"
Apparently, Mr. Daily explained his reasoning to Miss Adams, because she noticeably relaxed. Eventually she smiled and said, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to ask Matilda."
"Really?" he asked, with a puzzled look on his face. It was almost as if he were stunned by the thought of talking with a child.
"Absolutely. Matilda is the only one that can answer your questions," Miss Adams confirmed.
Mr. Daily moved so he was standing directly in front of me, then suddenly he got down on one knee, placing him well within striking distance. Before he could say anything I smiled and said, "I'm sorry Mr. Daily, I just can't marry you."
There was one of those magical moments when you could have heard a pin drop, just before everyone broke out laughing, including RJ and Mr. Daily.
Once Mr. Daily could control his laughter, he said, "Of course not! Besides, my wife would object." Which brought on more laughter.
Eventually, Mr. Daily settled down enough to ask, "I want to ask you about your problem. I'd like to know how well the UnderJams work for you, how they feel, and why you're not afraid of going out in public. Please, don't think I'm trying to embarrass you. You see, I have a six-year-old daughter, her name is Abigail, and she has a problem similar to yours, only she refuses to leave the house and rarely leaves her bedroom."
I thought for a moment, then quietly answered, "Honesty, I've only been using the UnderJams for a few days. They got them for me just before we left on this trip because, well, while we're traveling, there's no way of knowing if there will be a restroom close by, when I need one. I didn't like the protection I was using before the UnderJams. They crinkled and they were noisy when I moved, so everyone around me knew what I was wearing. They also didn't fit very well, so I was constantly reminded I was wearing them. These are quiet and fit comfortably. If I don't think about it, I can almost forget I'm wearing them."
Mr. Daily thought for a moment, then commented, "That's good information, thank you. You know, I like the term protection, it's more descriptive of the function rather than a nappy. Umm, how absorbent are they?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, to put it bluntly, do they leak?"
"Like I said, I've only had these for a few days, but the one time I couldn't get to a restroom, they didn't leak."
"Only once - you don't use them all the time?" Mr. Daily seemed puzzled.
Mary Beth put her arm around me, protectively, and added, "If we can get to a restroom every hour and a half, to two hours, we have no problem holding our water and everything is good. Two hours, to two and a half hours, is pushing our limit and we better get to a restroom quickly."
It was embarrassing, but I continued, "After two hours, there will be some leakage, as I fight to maintain control over some weak muscles. If I have to push it much past two and a half hours, I better be wearing full protection, which the UnderJams provide."
"Humm, that's different than Abigail, she uses her nap ... er ... protection all the time."
"Does she have to?" I asked.
"What do you mean, have to?" he asked.
"Well, does Abigail have a medical condition, a reason why she can't hold her water, or does she use them because that's what she's expected to do?" I asked.
Mr. Daily thought about my question, and his daughter, before answering, "I know she doesn't have a medical condition, we've had that checked out. As for the rest, I don't know. I know that she won't talk with me about her problem. I wonder if she'd talk to - ? Matilda, would you be willing talk with my Abigail?"
"Gee, I guess I could try. I don't know why she'd talk with me about her problem?" I questioned.
Miss Adams answered my questions, "Two reasons; first, Abigail may feel more comfortable opening up to you, because you have a similar condition and are close to the same size, as the old saying goes 'misery loves company'. Second, you've never met before, so there is no risk of being judged or criticized."
"That makes sense. I guess I can talk with her, I'm always willing to help others. Will your wife bring Abigail here, or will you go get her," I asked.
"Oh, no. If it’s all right with you, I would like to take you to her," Mr. Daily stated.
There was another one of those magic moments. Once again Mary Beth put her arms around me and said, "Matilda isn’t going anywhere without me, at her side!"
"Or me." Miss Adams added.
"Or me. And I haven't decided if we're going!" RJ stated emphatically.
"When does our flight to Edinburgh leave?" Miss Adams asked RJ.
RJ looked at the tickets and the clock on the office wall, and replied, "They should start boarding in two hours - fifty minutes."
"And how far away from the airport is your residence Mr. Daily?" Miss Adams inquired.
"Oh, depending on the traffic, it'll take between fifteen to twenty minutes each way." was Mr. Daily's reply.
"Well, it looks like we have the time. I guess the next question is, does Matilda want to talk with Abigail. Well Matilda, what do you say?" was the next question Miss Adams posed.
'Once again, all eyes were on me. I think I've said it before, but I really don't like being the center of attention.'
"I'm still not sure what good it would do, me talking with Abigail. I suppose if Mr. Daily thinks it will help, I'm willing to give it a go," I quietly replied.
"Great, let me call my wife and let her know we're coming," Mr. Daily said, as he went to his desk.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Miss Adams asked me.
"He seems to think I might be able to help. I don't know if I can help Abigail or not. I guess it won't hurt anything to talk with her. And, as long as all of you are with me, I won't worry about any sudden trips to France," I quietly replied.
“What’s wrong with going to France?” Mary Beth asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with going to France, as long as you’re going because you want to go to France,” Miss Adams replied.
“And you haven’t been kidnapped!” I added.
Mary Beth suddenly had a light go on above her head, as she remembered our last adventure.
Miss Adam turned to Mary Beth and quietly asked, "We have a problem, holding our water? I wasn't aware that you had a problem. I was of the understanding that Matilda was the only one that had a little problem."
Mary Beth put her arms around me and pulled me close, saying, "Hey, if my partner has a problem, then I have a problem."
Miss Adams looked at the two of us for a moment, then replied, "I think that's study partner."
Mary Beth eased off on her grip so I could sit up, and callously replied, "Whatever!"
"It's settled then," Mr. Daily announced, as he hung up the phone. "You know, I was expecting that Matilda would need an escort, I just wasn't expecting such a large escort. It will be a little tight, but the five of us should fit in my car. The four bags should fit in the boot, okay." Mr. Daily said, as he tossed the UnderJams back into my bag and zipped it closed.
Picking up my bag, Mr. Daily started for the door, "We'd better get a move on."
Mr. Daily was moving quickly as we followed after him. Down one hallway, turn left, part way down a second hallway and through a locked door that he had a key for. Then we went down some stairs and then along another hallway, with lots of pipes hanging from the ceiling. Then up a flight of stairs and through another locked door. As Mr. Daily closed and locked the door, we were a short distance from some automatic, sliding, glass doors. We followed Mr. Daily through the glass doors and across the concrete platform, stopping just short of the, yellow painted, curb. As we were exiting the terminal and crossing the platform, Mr. Daily was talking with someone on his radio.
Shortly after we stopped at the curb, a bus pulled up and stopped right in front of us. The doors opened and Mr. Daily wasted no time in stepping aboard. Of course, we followed and quickly sat in the first available seats.
"Thanks George," Mr. Daily said, as he patted the driver's shoulder. "I really appreciate this, were kind of in a hurry."
"No problem, Malcolm. What's the rush?" George asked, as we pulled away from the curb.
"Strange as it may seem, this small yank, may be able to help my Abigail," Mr. Daily replied.
"Really, that'd be grand. She's not much bigger than yur Abi. Ya sure she can help?'
"I don't know for sure, but nothing we've tried so far, has helped."
"Well, g-luck. We still on fer pool at ta pub tomorrow?"
"Sure thing, be there at half seven."
"Right you are. Well, here be your car, mate," George said, as the bus came to a stop.
"Thanks again, George. We'll see you back here in about an hour and a half."
"Right oh."
"You did say your car was on the small side, are you sure we'll all fit?" Mary Beth asked, as Mr. Daily was opening the trunk of . . . no, the boot of a dark blue Mini Cooper.
"I did say it would be tight. Also a good thing you don't have any added luggage. These four bags will be a snug fit in the boot," Mr. Daily replied. After the four bags were in and the boot was forced shut, he continued. "I think it will be best if you three ladies occupy the rear seat, while RJ and I sit up front."
I looked in at the back seat and knew I'd be sitting on someone's lap. Miss Adams got in first, sliding across to the other side. I got in next, but I didn't sit down. I leaned over the front seats while Mary Beth got in and sat down. Once Mary Beth was settled, I rotated and sat on her lap, with my legs between Mary Beth and Miss Adams and my arms around Mary Beth's neck. The two gentlemen got in and we were off.
"You two did that so smoothly, I'd guess that you do a lot of sitting on your friends lap," Mr. Daily said, as we pulled out of the parking lot.
"No, this is the first time that the Munchkin has been sitting on my lap," Mary Beth confessed.
"Munchkin?" Mr. Daily asked.
"That's what the other kids at school call me, just a nickname," I explained.
"I see," Mr. Daily acknowledged.
Looking into Mary Beth's eyes, I softly added, "Actually, I kind of like this, we're almost at eye level with each other this way."
"It wouldn't be bad, if your butt wasn't so boney," Mary Beth teased.
"It's a perfect match for your boney knees," I countered.
"Now girls, let's not start that. This car is too small for one of your bosom buddy sessions," Miss Adams cautioned, before we really had a chance to get going.
We both sighed at having the wind stolen from our sails.
"Oh, all right. You sure know how to spoil a girl's fun," I complained.
Miss Adams shook her head and smiled.
As we traveled, I let my head rest on Mary Beth's shoulder and closed my eyes. I was remembering a few weeks back, when I was the one complaining about wearing a particular type of protection. More important, I was trying to remember the conversation I'd had with Ellen, on the subject.
Mr. Daily had accuracy stated the time it would take to reach his home. As I felt the car come to a stop, I heard Miss Adams whisper, "Mary Beth, I think it's time to wake Matilda."
"I'm not asleep," I said, as I lifted my head and opened my eyes. "Just thinking."
"We're in trouble now, the Munchkin has been thinking again," Mary Beth teased.
I smiled and replied, "Everyone can relax, no plans for world domination . . . this time."
"This time?" RJ questioned, as he got out.
"Exactly. The last plan was a bust, however I have some new ideas cooking in the dark recesses of my evil mind," I replied, as I stood so Mary Beth could get out.
While giggling, Miss Adams asked "How long do they need to cook?"
"If you see steam coming out of her ears it's time to put some distance between you and her," Mary Beth jokingly replied.
Joining in the spirit of the conversation, Mr. Daily asked, as he opened the boot to get my bag, "Will we be safe with half a planet between us?"
"It's hard to say, we are talking about world domination. Although, she's still having trouble with taking over the school," Mary Beth teased.
"Of course, she did managed to get one family arrested and on their way to some very long prison terms," RJ added, as we headed for the door of a two story structure, which reminded me of something from Harry Potter.
Mr. Daily paused, before opening the door and looked at us with some concern in his eyes.
I quickly added, "They were involved in child abuse and child pornography."
"And you got them sent to prison?" Mr. Daily asked.
"Let's just say, I was part of the team that found a solution to the problem," I replied, trying to down play the whole episode.
Mr. Daily looked at me, and then RJ and Miss Adams for a moment. Eventually he shrugged his shoulders and opened the door, and we followed him into his home.
As we entered, Mary Beth whispered in my ear, "Part of the team?"
"Well, I was," I replied.
"Yeah, like Joan of Arc was just part of the French army," Mary Beth muttered, as she followed me inside.
I smiled to myself, thinking, 'She really has been paying attention in history.'
We came to a stop just inside the door. Mary Beth, being the last to enter, closed the door.
"Everyone in?" Mr. Daily asked, then started in with the introductions. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my wife, Eliza. Eliza, this RJ, but don't ask me what RJ stands for. Moving on, we have Miss Wednesday Adams. The young lady by the door is Mary Beth and the other young lady is Matilda."
"Mel, you said that a yank named Matilda was going to chat with Abi, but I was expecting someone, well, someone not so tiny," Eliza said, to her husband.
Mary Beth quickly put her arms around me, so I couldn't get within striking distance.
As Mr. Daily pulled his wife back, he explained, "Relax my dear. Matilda may be a bit small on the outside, but they tell me she's got a big heart and she's quite intelligent."
My fury being defused by Mr. Daily's complement, I asked, "Does Abigail know that I'm coming to have a chat with her?"
"I told her that someone from America was coming to have a chat with her," Mrs. Daily replied. "She ran up to her room complaining 'she was tired of people coming round to chat'. I can take you up to her room."
"If you don't mind, I think it will be better if we had a private little chat. If you would tell me where to find her room?" I asked.
Mrs. Daily looked at me suspiciously. Mr. Daily picked up on his wife's anxiety and gave her a hug and whispered something in her ear. She quickly relaxed and asked, "Really?"
Mr. Daily nodded and said, "Matilda, Abigail's room is upstairs, the last door on your left."
I picked up my bag and started for the stairs. I was part way up when I overhead Mrs. Daily ask, "Is she moving in?"
I smiled and kept going, I knew the others would take care of explaining things to Mrs. Daily. Knowing Miss Adams, she'll probably talk with the Daily's while I was talking with Abigail. Arriving at the top of the stairs, I started down the hall. The first door on my left was closed. The second door was open slightly, revealing a bathroom. I knocked gentle on the third door.
"Mum, I said I don't wana chat with no yank shrink." I heard Abigail call out.
Turning the knob I pushed the door open and replied, "Then it's a good thing I'm not a shrink."
Inside the room, a startled Abigail turned to look at me. The room was about the size of my room back home, before I came to live at the Manor. It was obvious that Abigail spent a lot of time here, the bed was rumpled, there were dolls and other toys scattered around, some on shelves and others in what was a play area. Abigail herself was obviously not expecting visitors, she was wearing a colorful sweater, black knee socks, and what was unmistakably a diaper, which seemed like it was just a little too small.
"Who the heck is you?" she asked.
"I'm Matilda," I replied, with a smile. After I entered the room, I closed the door. "Your dad thought it would be a good idea if we could chat for a while."
"Mum said dad was bringing some body to chat with me, bout the nappies. I expected someone bigger."
"Nobody bigger, just me. Could we sit down?"
"OK," she said a little glumly, as she sat at one end of her bed.
I sat at the other end and asked, "Just between you and me, do you like wearing diapers, I mean, wearing nappies."
"NO! I hate um."
"So why are you wearing them and why don't you wear something over them?" I asked bluntly.
"When we're at home, mum says it's easier to change me if I don't wear pants. When I don't wear the nappies I . . . sometimes I have accidents," she said sadly.
"Your dad says you won't go out and that you spend most of your day hiding in your room, is that right"
"Well, how would you like to wear nappies all the time, having people looking at you like you was a over growed baby?"
From here I had enough information to break into a discussion about the difference between a handicap and an inconvenience. Thank you Ellen.
After we finished talking about having our problem not being a handicap Abigail asked, "You're sure smart, but how come you know how I feel?"
I thought for a moment, trying to decide how to answer that question. I finally decided to be honest and up front with her. "About a month ago, I talked with someone else about the same problem."
"You know someone else like me?" Abigail interrupted.
"As a matter of fact, I do. I was on the receiving end of that conversation," I admitted.
"What?" Abigail clearly didn't understand.
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. With that in mind, I slipped off the bed and raised my skirt. It took Abigail a few moments to realize what I was wearing.
With her eyes wide and one hand over her mouth, she pointed at me and exclaimed, "You too?"
Shrugging my shoulders I replied, "Me too."
"What are you wearing? It don't look like a nappy."
I dropped my skirt and picked up my small suitcase. Putting the suitcase on the bed, I opened it and handed two of the underJams to Abigail.
"They're called UnderJams. They got them for me for this trip. We couldn't be sure I'd be able to find a restroom when I needed, so I've got these for just in case."
"If you are wearing these, why not go in them?" Abigail asked.
"Because I don't want to. And, I'm trying to strengthen my muscles so I won't need to wear protection all the time," I calmly proclaimed.
"Straighten your muscles, how do you do that?"
"No, not straighten, strengthen. That means to make my muscles stronger."
Of course that led into some questions about what I was doing to strengthen my bladder muscles. Unfortunately, my PDA alarm went off during our talk, which prompted more questions. Not wanting to change what I was wearing, I asked to use the loo and recommend that Abigail change, into one of the UnderJam I'd given her, while I was out of the room.
As I returned I had to stifle a giggle, seeing Abigail in the UnderJam, instead of her nappy, but still not wearing a skirt or pants. I helped her into a skirt and suggested we go downstairs.
"There's my princess," Mr. Daily exclaimed, when he saw Abigail. He opened his arms wide and Abigail ran over to her father. He scooped her up and hugged her tight.
I smiled, seeing the loving bond between father and daughter. Sadly, that loving bond was something I would never know.
Abigail was whispering in her father's ear. His responses were somewhat vague, but I could tell she was telling him about me and our chat.
"Yes, I know she does." "That was very kind of her." "No, I couldn't tell." "Of course we will." "As soon as I get off work." "You are. That's great, sweetheart." "Did you tell her thank you?" "You forgot." "Don't you think you should?"
At that point, Mr. Daily kissed Abigail's cheek then set her down. She scurried over to where I was standing and threw her arms around me.
"Thank you, Matilda."
"You are very welcome, Abigail," I replied, with a smile.
"Malcolm, we need to get back to the airport," RJ pointed out.
"Of course, of course. We wouldn't want you to miss your flight. Good bye my love," Mr. Daily said, and then he tenderly kissed his wife. To Abigail he said, "Bye, bye princess. I'll see you soon." Then he kissed her on the top of her head.
We quickly went out and squeezed back into Mr. Daily's Mini Cooper.
As I was resting my head on Mary Beth's shoulder, I whispered, "Mrs. Daily looked like she had been crying. What was going on while I was with Abigail?"
She turned her head and whispered back, "I'll tell you about it later."
When we got close to the airport Mr. Daily called his friend, the bus driver. We were getting our travel cases out of the back of the mini when George pulled up with his bus. We quickly got on board as Mr. Daily thanked George for getting there so fast.
After being taken to the main terminal, Mr. Daily led us to the security checkpoint for airport employees. After he talked to the security agents briefly, we were all cleared through the checkpoint, after producing our ID's, boarding passes and having our bags x-rayed again. Mr. Daily stayed with us until we got to our departure gate, which we arrived at just as they were starting to board the rest of the passengers.
As we were getting in line Mr. Daily dropped down on one knee in front of me. Before he could say anything I jumped in with a little sarcasm.
"I'm really sorry, but like I told you before, I just can't marry you, Mr. Daily."
After chuckling and shaking his head twice, Mr. Daily replied, "Of course you can't, Matilda. But, I do want to thank you. I haven't seen Abigail that happy and full of smiles for a very long time."
"I didn't do much. We just had a friendly little chat, girl to girl."
"Well, whatever you two talked about, it must have been done the trick. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"When you get home, will you write to Abigail? I know she would love to hear from you and she'd feel extra special to have an American pen pal."
I looked up at RJ, questioningly. He nodded in reply. Looking back at Mr. Daily, I smiled as I replied, "It will be a pleasure to correspond with Abigail."
The line started moving and we waved goodbye to Mr. Daily. I've only traveled by air a few times, but this has been the strangest, yet most rewarding, layover yet. And, I'm sure it will be sometime before I'll experience a layover that would top this one.
Once we were in the air, I turned to Mary Beth and asked, "So why did Mrs. Daily look like she'd been crying?"
"Because she had been," came Mary Beth's reply.
"Okay, so why had she been crying?" I asked, trying to get a little more information.
"Miss Adams was talking with Mr. and Mrs. Daily about Abigail's problem when Mrs. Daily started crying. After that she admitted to Mr. Daily that she's been keeping Abigail in diapers. That she’s been sabotaging Abigail’s potty training efforts, for the last four years, just so Abigail would have to wear diapers and be dependent on her."
"But why? Why would someone do that to their own child?" I asked.
"Something happened when Abigail was born and Mrs. Daily can't have any more children. So, she wanted to keep her Abigail as a baby as long as she could."
"Well, I suppose that is somewhat understandable and possibly forgivable."
"I guess. It’s not as if she was trying to force her daughter to be a boy," Mary Beth concluded.
"You're talking about my dad again."
"Partly, also my mom's reaction to you. You know, maybe my mom and your dad should have gotten together, they share the same ideas and attitude about a lot of things."
"MayBee, now that's a scary thought, two bigots on a mad crusade to eliminate diversity from the human race."
"When you put it like that, it is scary."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we'll be landing in Edinburgh shortly. Thank you for flying with British Airways."
Another airport and another visit with the customs people. Fortunately everything was routine, there was no excitement and nobody was accused of smuggling narcotics. After being cleared through customs, we took a shuttle bus to our hotel.
As we were getting off the shuttle bus, I noticed a line of small shops on the other side of the road. Teasing RJ again, I asked, "Hey, that's convenient, there's a toy shop across the street. Can we get some balloons?"
Mary Beth giggled a little.
Miss Adams smiled and shook her head.
RJ looked at me funny, I think he was trying to figure out if I was serious. Eventually he simply said "No."
"Oh well, I guess we'll have to go with plan 'B', paper airplanes," I said, with a big smile.
"Matilda!" RJ said, with a bit more emphasis.
"She's just teasing you RJ. We'll be good," Mary Beth told him.
"I think I should hear it from her," RJ stated.
I smiled and replied, "RJ, I promise that I will take no action that would bring shame or embarrassment to either myself or the school, which we are here to represent."
Miss Adams asked RJ, "Was that a promise to be good?"
"I'm not sure," he replied.
Laughing, I confirmed, "I'm sure."
After a little more verbal debating we went into the hotel. RJ took care of getting us checked in. RJ and Miss Adams each had their own room while Mary Beth and I were sharing a room, no surprise or complaint there. I mean, I really didn't want my own room, I was perfectly happy sharing a room with Mary Beth.
We took our bags up to our rooms. Mary Beth and I were laying on one of the beds, talking about the last day and a half, when there was a knock on our door. Being nearest, Mary Beth slipped off the bed and went to the door. I followed along, just a few steps behind her. Assuming it was RJ or Miss Adams to collect us for dinner, I picked up the room key and slipped it in my pocket, with my PDA.
As Mary Beth opened the door I discovered my assumption was in error. Standing in the hall was Miss Adams and RJ.
"You two ready for dinner," asked Miss Adams.
"Yes, ma'am," Mary Beth replied.
"One of you have your room key?" RJ asked.
"Right here," I answered, while patting my skirt pocket.
Dinner was interesting, Mary Beth and I were given the freedom to order for ourselves. Because of the time we'd spent learning the language and customs, the menu held very few surprises. The only real surprise was when the waiter handed me their children's menu. It was a good thing for him that he was out of range, because he’d set my blood on fire. I really need to control that a little better, unfortunately it would be sometime before I made any real progress in that area.
After dinner RJ hired a cab and we did a little sightseeing. We drove around the Edinburgh Castle and through what is called Edinburgh Old Town. We went past the Edinburgh Dungeon, which looked like it would have been a fun place to go in, but they were closed for the night. Then we drove past the Scottish Parliament building and the Palace of Holyroodhouse. The sun was going down so RJ had the driver take us back to our hotel.
Once back in our room, we changed into our jammies, read our scriptures, said our prayers, and crawled into bed. It had been a long day and we were both very tired.
Friday, February 18, 2005.
We woke early, for some strange reason. A strange bed and Mother Nature probably had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, we both felt rested and ready to face the day. Showered and dressed, we were working on the schoolwork that had been loaded on our PDA's, when RJ and Miss Adams came to get us for breakfast.
"In your school uniforms?" Miss Adams inquired.
"It was her idea," Mary Beth professed.
"Matilda?" RJ excelled at one or two questions.
"Well, we are here as representatives from our school. I just thought this would make a good impression. After all, we're just innocent young school girls, at least that's what they're supposed to think, right?"
RJ smiled and replied, "Well, school girls at least, I'm not so sure about you being innocent."
Miss Adams giggled and ask, "Who's hungry?"
The hotel had a breakfast buffet set up. There were a few unusual items, along with all the regularly breakfast foods.
After breakfast we went back to our rooms and finished repacking our bags. Back downstairs, we checked out and RJ arranged for a cab to take us to the address of the Breen Marketing Company. I was surprised that we weren't in an industrial complex, but rather what appeared to be an older section of Edinburgh, with small shops lining both sides of the street.
"Can we look through some of these shops after we're done?" Mary Beth asked.
"Perhaps, we'll have to see how much time we have," RJ replied.
RJ led us past a toy shop, a cobblers shop, and a small bakery, before stopping in front of an unmarked door. Opening the door we went down a long, well lit, hallway. At the end of the hall was another door, it was locked, but there was a small speaker grill on the wall with a button just to the side.
Without any hesitation RJ pressed the button and said, "Mr. Wentworth to see Shawn Ramsey."
Almost immediately, there was an electrically buzzing, a click, and the door opened an inch. RJ pushed the door open and held it while we all went through. Inside was a well-appointed waiting room.
"We'll leave our suitcases here," RJ informed us, as he stood his in a corner, followed by the other three. Then we sat down to wait.
It was about ten minutes before the door on the other side of the waiting room opened. A tall man, in his mid-thirties I guessed, came in and quickly crossed the small room. RJ stood, so we all stood.
"RJ, Good ta see ye again, lad-die."
"It a pleasure to be back here, Shawn."
"And who be these beautiful ladies ye brung with ye?" Shawn asked.
RJ then did the introductions, "Everyone, this is Shawn Ramsey, he's the sales manager here. Shawn, this is Miss Wednesday Adams, she's one of our teachers. Currently she's acting as chaperone for these two young ladies. This young lady is one of our computer wizards, Matilda McNeil. We also have Matilda's study partner, Mary Beth Phelps."
"Tis indeed a pleasure ta meet such lovely ladies," Shawn said, while shaking hands with each of us. "RJ, will they be joining us in the showroom?"
"Mary Beth and Matilda will be joining us. Miss Adams will wait for us here," RJ replied.
"They'll have ta sign a non-disclosure greement, like ye did, when ye was here afore," Shawn stated.
"That's not a problem, Shawn."
Shawn went back to the door he'd come through. Entering a code into a keypad, he left us alone for a few moments.
"Here ye be," Shawn said, as he returned. "Read um over an sign the last page."
As I was quickly reading the three page document, I motioned for RJ to bend down to whispering distance.
"Is there a problem Matilda?" RJ quietly asked.
"Doesn't this go against what you want me to do in there?" I whispered.
"Not at all. This is to assure them that you won't tell their competitors what you see or what they are working on. What we want you to do is keep them honest and help us get the most for our money," came his hushed reply.
After signing the forms we were each given VISITOR badge and we followed Shawn through the door. Immediately in front of us was a glass wall. There was a door about five feet away, towards the left side, with a sign above it that said SECURITY. There were halls going left and right, from where we were standing. Shawn turned right and headed down that hall, naturally we followed him.
Through the glass wall, I saw a dozen work stations where they appeared to be assembling, what looked like, PDA's. The area was obviously a white room, because of how everyone was dressed.
We past several offices, on the right, before we came to the door at the end of the hall. Shawn opened the door and held it while we went through. We found ourselves in a room, about twenty feet square, that was nicely furnished, very modern compared to the shops out on the street.
There were some padded chairs along the walls and a few small tables, here and there. On one of the tables was a device I recognized and I crossed the room to that table.
"Is this what I think it is?" I asked.
"If ye is thinking it be a tricorder from the original Star Trek, then ye be correct. More precisely a medical tricorder. That's been ta inspiration for quite a few of our products. Like this little device," Shawn replied, as he picked up a small device which he pointed at me.
"Let's see now, blood pressure is ninety-two over forty-seven. Respiration, twelve. Heartbeat, seventy-three. Body temperature, seventy-two. These readns look to be perfectly normal, for a young male Andorian."
"Andorian?" RJ asked, in surprise.
"And a male Andorian at that," I stated, with a bit of surprise.
"I always knew there was a reason you kept your room so much colder than the rest of the school," Mary Beth teased.
"Ta engineers still be working on this. We have some others that work very well," Shawn said, as he set the device back on the table. "But, what ye be here ta see, be the PDA's, they be over here." He led us to the table in the center of the room.
On the three foot diameter table was a three level Plexiglas display case, with a variety of PDA's on display. They appeared to be arranged by size, and I guessed date of manufacture, from bottom to top.
Lifting the PDA off the top of the display, Shawn handed it to RJ, saying, "This be ta enhanced version of ta PDA's ye were testing. It has all ta upgrades that ye talked about."
RJ looked it over, balanced it in his hand, "It doesn't seem to be any heaver."
"She is, but only by a few grams," Shawn replied.
RJ turned it on and went through a few menus. Then he glanced at the system information, memory used and available, and the cpu speed options. Looking at Shawn, he said, "Very nice, very nice indeed, but how does it stand up to a little abuse?"
Shawn looked surprised, "What do ye mean by abuse?"
Smiling, RJ handed me the PDA, saying, "Matilda, you may - indulge yourself."
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Education in the Hills - chapter 39
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
Permission:
First I can, then I can't.
I wish someone would make up my mind.
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W., Annette MacGregor and Holly H Heart
for their kindness, help, support, and input.
Education in the Hills
Chapter 39
By Penny Reed Cardon
Accepting the PDA, I smiled and thanked RJ. With Mary Beth in tow, I moved to the chair farthest from RJ, Shawn, and the door. As we moved I got out my PDA.
"Ye be handing ta PDA over ta that wee young lass?" Shawn asked, dumbfounded.
‘It's a good thing he wasn't in striking distance, I know what 'wee young lass' translates into. If I have time, I’ll change something in his employment records. I’ll teach him to call me a wee young lass.’
"Relax Shawn, she won't physically abuse it, she's just checking it out, making sure all the changes we discussed are there and working. Now let’s go over here and talk about options and docking stations," RJ said, as he gently took Shawn to the opposite corner.
With Mary Beth holding my travel PDA for me, and me with the new demo PDA, I got to work. There were a lot of people counting on me, and I was not going to let them down. Besides, I am the Mystical Munchkin and this - is what I do.
"You let me know if they come over, or if anyone else comes in," I whispered to Mary Beth.
I quickly discovered that there were six wireless networks in range, all with similar names, all giving the same amount of signal strength, and all of them secured. Not knowing what was where, I realized that I’d have to crack them all . . . it wasn't going to be as easy as I had anticipated.
I was working between the two PDA’s. I used the demo PDA to access Breen’s systems, after I re-enabled its Wi-Fi, and I used my travel PDA to access some software tools, that I'd loaded just before we left the Manor. It took longer than I expected, but I succeeded in cracking the first access code. The second code was much easier to break and then the third, the forth, and the fifth. From my very limited experience, most IT administrators were in the habit of using a similar style of passwords when setting up networks and access codes, you just had to figure out their style of passwords, this system administrator was no exception. That is until I started in on the sixth access code. I was confused at first, the sixth code didn’t follow any of the patterns that had been used when setting up the first five networks. It quickly became apparent that someone else had setup the sixth network and I had to start working through that code from scratch.
I was almost ashamed to admit that it took the better part of thirty minutes to get into all six of the networks. Once I was there however, I had access to all the company records, projects, customers, and personnel files. Finding Shawn’s files, I didn’t think he deserved such a very large salary, at least not when he insults the customers. I was sure he would be surprised when the next payday came around and his paycheck was substantially less than the previous check. However, somehow I knew that the Scottish Transgender Alliance, would appreciate his very generous donation.
Next on my agenda, was to set up a few surprises that could be triggered on command. I was sure that the IT security folks wouldn’t believe that someone as small and innocent as I, could penetrate their system. It was while I was setting up my surprises, that I had Mary Beth get out her PDA. Just for fun, I sent the command links, for half of my surprises, to MayBee’s PDA. When I had everything set, I started the research on the PDA’s that we had been testing, along with the PDA I had been given to play with. What I found was extremely enlightening, and I was sure RJ will be pleased with my work and my discoveries. When everything was set and I was sure of all my information, I pinged RJ’s PDA, to tell him I was ready.
“Well Shawn, shall we go see what Matilda thinks of the updated PDA?” I heard RJ ask, from across the room.
“Matilda, does that PDA have all the updates that we asked for?” RJ asked me, once they’d crossed the room.
“Yes, this has the enhancements that we recommended. However, in response to your statement in the waiting room, I would have to say no, they haven’t been completely honest with us."
"Really? I've had reports that were both positive and negative on the subject. Please tell me what you've found."
"What I’ve discovered, is that the PDA’s we’ve been testing for the last couple of months, model Twenty-Two Forty-Five, and this PDA model Twenty-Two Forty-Five Echo, were all part of a batch of PDA’s that were manufactured back in April of 2002.”
“What? Shawn, are you trying to unload three-year-old hardware on us?” RJ pointedly asks.
Shawn on the other hand looked like most of the blood had been drained from his body, as he slowly sank into a chair a few chairs away, and was muttering sounds that were not making any sense.
“How ... when ... She couldn’t ... I don’t ... Its not possible.”
“Their current model PDA is the model Twenty-Five Fifteen, I really think those would serve very well as our on campus PDA’s, that’s what they are putting together in the white room, that we passed as we came down the hall. The CPU speed is almost three times that of the twenty-two forty-five and they have two-hundred fifty-six gigs of ram. If they wanted throw in these Twenty-Two Forty-Five Echo’s, at a greatly reduced price, they might make an adequate travel PDA for the school. Although, I personally think the model Twenty-Three Eighty-Five would make a better travel PDA, as they have a built in cameras, which would be really nice when we’re traveling,” I added.
Shawn finally found his tongue and asked, “How do you know about the twenty-five fifteen’s?”
“I read about them while I was going through the engineering designs and specifications on one of your networks. After I discovered them, I went through your warehouse inventory. Unfortunately, the quantity you have in inventory won't meet our needs, but according to your production schedule you should be able to produce the needed quantity by June First.” I replied. “RJ, you know the two special teams, Mr. Black’s team and the corresponding junior team, I think they should be outfitted with their model Gwydion twenty-five. That PDA has all the features of the twenty-five fifteen, but it also has the ability for Wi-Fi and satellite communication.”
At that point Shawn was shaking, not to mention that he was shaking his head, saying, “No . . . it’s not possible. She couldn’t ... she just couldn’t ... nobody knows ... nobody knows ... Gwydion ... Classified ... top secret.”
I knew we had Shawn rattled, when his speech broke up into gibberish, apparently so did RJ. “Matilda, I think it’s time to make your presence known.”
“At what level?” I asked.
“How many levels are there?” RJ inquired.
“Six.”
“Let’s start at the lowest level and see where that gets us,” RJ decided.
“Okay, there aren’t too many alarms at that level.”
With that I entered a few keystrokes on the demo PDA. Almost immediately we heard some sirens going off, outside the showroom. Once the alarms went off, I put away my PDA and had Mary Beth do the same with hers.
It took five minutes, before someone came barging into the showroom. He was quickly followed by two others. All three were carrying some kind of scanner or signal tracking device. ‘I didn’t know you could track a wireless signal. I guess they found a way, it looks like a subject I needed to research.’
The three men moved to the three unoccupied corners of the room. I heard some hushed communication between the three men with the scanners and someone else. Two minutes later, a large man in a nice business suit showed up.
“Aw reit Shawn, whit th' heel is gonnae oan in haur?” the suit asked, as he put, what was obviously a PDA, in his jacket pocket.
(All right Shawn, what the hell is going on in here?)
“I … I … I didn’t think. She … she … somehow … I ... I don’t know ... somehow ... she ... she,” Shawn stuttered.
“Excuse me, I think what Shawn is trying to say is that, somehow Matilda knew that Shawn was trying to pass of your model Twenty-Two Forty-five PDA’s as your current model,” RJ started to explain.
“Fa in th’ blazes ur ye?” the suit asked.
(Who in the blazes are you?)
“I’m Russell Wentworth Jr. I represent Immigration Manor, a school in the United States. And may I ask who you are?”
“Ah'm Alastair McIntosh. Ah own Breen Marketin.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. McIntosh. Please call me RJ, everyone does.”
“RJ is it, huir uv a weel. Ye main caa me Alastair. Noo whit is gonnae oan an' fa is Matilda?”
(RJ is it, very well. You may call me Alastair. Now what is going on and who is Matilda?)
“I’m Matilda,” I said, as I put my hand up and waved.
“Ye can kin me, ye wee lassie?” Mr. McIntosh asked.
(You can understand me, you tiny little girl?)
I frowned at his reference to being a wee lassie and simply replied “Aye.”
Mary Beth on the other hand, coming to my rescue stated, “We baith can, an' if ye don’t want a cyber bomb left in yer network, Ah suggest ye nae caa 'er a wee lassie.”
(We both can, and if you don’t want a cyber bomb left in your network, I suggest you not call her a tiny little girl.)
At that moment, one of the three men with the scanners spoke quietly with Mr. McIntosh for several moments, before he turned his attention to me.
"Sae, ye ur Matilda. An' fa is thes other lassie?" Mr. McIntosh asked.
(So, you are Matilda. And who is this other girl?)
"This is my study partner, Mary Beth," I replied.
“It is a pleasure tae ken ye baith. Noo 'en RJ, mah security tells me someain hacked intae a body ay uir systems an' they've traced th' signal tae thes room. Seein' hoo Shawn is jist babblin', can ye teel me what's bin gonnae oan in haur?”
(It is a pleasure to know you both. Now then RJ, my security tells me someone hacked into one of our systems and they've traced the signal to this room. Seeing how Shawn is just babbling, can you tell me what's been going on in here?)
"As I was saying, I've been negotiating with Shawn to purchase some new PDA's for our school. I think Shawn was just surprised, that Matilda knew that he was trying to pass off three-year-old PDA's as your current model," RJ replied.
"Weel hoo in th' blazes woods she ken 'at?" Mr. McIntosh demanded.
(Well how in the blazes would she know that?)
"I know, because I’m the one who hacked into your network," I calmly replied.
Mr. McIntosh looked at me for a moment and started laughing. It was several minutes before he stopped laughing and said, "This huir uv a lassie hacked uir network, Ah dornt hink sae. What's pure gonnae oan?"
(This very little girl hacked our network, I don't think so. What's really going on?)
Fuming, I asked Mary Beth to touch the 'Surprise # 2' icon, that I put on her PDA. Then I started looking on Breen's system for Mr. McIntosh's PDA.
Moments later, a new set of alarms could be heard.
"What th' heel is gonnae oan noo?" Mr. McIntosh wondered aloud.
(What the hell is going on now?)
About two minutes passed, with alarms blaring, before someone called the phone, built into, Mr. McIntosh's PDA. Naturally, he extracted his PDA to answer the call. He seemed surprised by what he saw.
"What th' heel is gonnae oan haur?" he screamed, into his phone. "Yoo teel Walter tae gie his scrawny crease doon tae th' showroom reit awa', an' he better hae some answers. Ah want tae ken what's gonnae oan an' fa replaced th' backgroond oan mah PDA, wi' an American flag."
(What the hell is going on here?)
(You tell Walter to get his scrawny ass down to the showroom right away, and he better have some answers. I want to know what's going on and who replaced the background on my PDA, with an American flag.)
RJ looked at me with a smile and asked, "Matilda, you didn't?"
"Of course I did, and I'll do a lot more than that, if he calls me a 'wee little lassie' again," I gruffly replied.
Mary Beth was giggling, finally she said, "Go get'm my Munchkin."
RJ on the other hand quietly said, “Matilda, you promised that you’d be good.”
“Silly me.” I muttered. So RJ could hear me, I replied, "I am being good, I haven't erased any network drives . . . Yet!"
Just then a slender man came running into the showroom, Walter I assumed.
"Mr. McIntosh, oi jist canny explain it, after de first breach, we locked down al' de systems. Dare 'enny been any new connecshuns established. Oi jist don't nu 'oy someone got into de medical research systems," Walter was hastily explaining.
(Mr. McIntosh, I just can't explain it, after the first breach, we locked down all the systems. There haven't been any new connections established. I just don't know how someone got into the medical research systems,)
While Walter was doing his best to save his job, I quietly stood up and walked over next to him. After he stopped talking, I reached up and tugged on his shirt sleeve. He looked down at me and asked, "What do you want?"
"Maybe you didn't detect a new connection, because the intruder was already in the system and simply choose that moment in time, to kick your cyber trap, setting off the alarms," I replied. Turning, I returned to my seat.
Mr. McIntosh, Walter, and the three security men, with the scanners all stopped talking and stared at me. Shawn was still babbling, and shaking his head. RJ stood to the side smiling. Mary Beth was trying hard to not laugh out loud.
Finally Walter asked, "Who is that?"
RJ replied, proudly stating, "That is Matilda, affectionately known as The Munchkin. Remember the name gentlemen; I'm sure you'll hear from her again."
Mr. McIntosh was still looking at me, as he said, "Walter, yoo're fired. Matilda, can Ah interest ye in a job."
Giggling, I replied, "I can't come work for you, Mr. McIntosh, I'm only ten-years-old."
Mr. McIntosh continued, "Donae matter yer age, yoo're better than Walter haur. I'll pay ye top dollar, anythin' ye want, Ah jist need a security system that's hacker proof."
RJ jumped in to rescue me, "I'm sorry Mr. McIntosh, but hiring Matilda full time is out of the question. Besides, we haven't taught her how to setup a system yet, she's only been with us for about five months."
"Yoo taught 'er tae hack intae uir system in fife months?" Mr. McIntosh seemed to be getting upset again.
(You taught her to hack into our system in five months?)
"On the contrary," RJ started to explain. "Matilda was hacking into various computer systems before she started with us. She appears to have an unnatural gift. She's worked her way into some of the best, protected systems, like the front doors were standing wide open. Matilda, how long did it take to get into their systems?"
"Well ... I'm ashamed to admit it, but it took the better part of thirty minutes to have full access, to all six systems," I timidly replied.
"Walter, a ten-year-auld lassie cracked yer best security in less than thirty minutes. Whit dae ye hae tae say fur yerself?" Mr. McIntosh demanded.
(Walter, a ten-year-old girl cracked your best security in less than thirty minutes. What do you have to say for yourself?)
"Matilda, ye say ye be inta six wireless networks?" Walter asked.
"That's correct, five individual networks and a sixth network with links to the other five. The names on all six networks were very similar, although one of the access codes was radically different. I assume the sixth network is a managerial or supervisory network," I admitted.
Walter turned to Mr. McIntosh, "Sairrr, we only hae fife networks, an' fur security reasons, nane ay uir networks ur linked together."
(Sir, we only have five networks, and for security reasons, none of our networks are linked together.)
"Oops. What did you stumble into?" Mary Beth quietly asked.
"What? Whit diz thes pure techt?" Mr. McIntosh questioned.
(What? What does this mean?)
"Mr. McIntosh, it means dat someone 'as set up an additional network, perhaps somethin' linked ter wan av our networks so they can knuk our designs," Walter explained.
(Mr. McIntosh, it means that someone has set up an additional network, perhaps something linked to all of our networks so they can steal our designs)
While Mr. McIntosh and Walter were discussing the sixth network I was busy typing away.
Walter turned back to me and started to ask, "Matilda, cud yer send -."
I didn't wait for him to finish asking the question, before I hit send. A moment later Walter's PDA beeped. "That's everything I have on the network, with the odd access code. It definitely has been linked to all of the other networks."
"What is dis?" Walter asked. "I've never seen data on a network dat looks loike dis."
I took Walter aside and we went over the data I'd sent him, then he rushed out, in search of the alien network.
"Yoo see Matilda, Ah need ye tae keep Walter in line," Mr. McIntosh professed.
(You see Matilda, I need you to keep Walter in line,)
"I'm sorry, but that's simply out of the question," RJ flatly stated.
"However, for the right price, I could be coaxed into testing your system, let's say, twice each year. I would then call Walter with the results of my invasion. With that information he can keep upgrading your systems," I added.
"So whit ur we talkin' abit haur?" Mr. McIntosh asked.
(So what are we talking about here?)
"What are you doing Matilda?" Mary Beth asked.
"Just looking out for the school - mostly," I confessed.
Turning back to Mr. McIntosh, I started negotiations, "I was thinking that we should be able to get the PDA's we need at a wholesale price."
"Haw mony ur we talkin' abit?" Mr. McIntosh asked.
(How many are we talking about?)
"That would depend upon which model will fill the needs for our different groups," RJ said, joining in on the negotiations. "Although, we'd like to look at several models before we can decide that."
"What models ur ye interested in?" Mr. McIntosh inquired.
"You still have that list, Matilda?" RJ asked.
"I do. The first one we’d like to see is, the model Twenty-Five Fifteen.”
“If we like what we see, we would want two-hundred of that model,” RJ interrupted
“Then there is the model Twenty-Three Eighty-Five,” I added.
“Again, if we like the features of that model, and the price is right, we would want two-hundred of those in addition to the Twenty-Five Fifteen's,” RJ indicated.
“Then there is the model Gwydion Twenty-Five,” I said, which shocked Mr. McIntosh.
“If that model PDA is everything Matilda says it is, we would like fifty of that model, in addition to the others” RJ concluded.
Mr. McIntosh quickly sat down, dumbfounded, and with his mouth hanging open. He sat quietly for a moment, then he turned to Shawn, who had come back to his senses, "Go pull a body ay each ay those models fur these braw fowk."
(Go pull one of each of those models for these fine people.)
"Yes sir. Roi away sir," Shawn said, as he jumped up and ran out the door.
“Haw dae ye ken abit th' gwydion series?” Mr. McIntosh asked.
(How do you know about the Gwydion series?)
I held up the demo PDA and waved it slightly, saying, “I have access to all the information on all of your networks.”
Mr. McIntosh frowned and shook his head. “Weel RJ, Ah don’t ken exactly hoo mony ay th' Twenty-Three Eighty-Fives’ we hae in th' warehouse -”
(Well RJ, I don’t know exactly how many of the twenty-three eighty-fives’ we have in the warehouse –)
“One hundred and fifty,” I interrupted.
“Ain hunder an' fifty. Weel Ah can lit ye hae them at ten percent under cost. Th' other fifty we’ll hae tae assemble an' Ah cooldn’t seel them fur less than whit it costs tae pit them together. As fur th' Twenty-Fife Fifteens’ we produce them as they ur ordered. However, fur an order ay tois hunder Ah coods lit ye hae them at fife percent under uir wholesale price. Th' Gwydion series woods be th' sam.”
(One hundred and fifty. Well I can let you have them at ten percent under cost. The other fifty we’ll have to assemble and I couldn’t sell them for less than what it costs us to put them together. As for the twenty-five fifteens’ we produce them as they are ordered. However, for an order of two hundred I could let you have them at five percent under our wholesale price. The Gwydion series would be the same.)
While Mr. McIntosh was talking about price and quantity of the various PDA’s, he stood up and was slowly pacing.
“Mr. McIntosh, would those prices be the same for any customer ordering that many PDA’s?” I asked.
He stopped and looked at me as he answered, “Ah, most ay uir customers order atween ten an' fifty units. Thes is th' first time Ah hae hud anyain ask fur 'at mony.”
(Yes, most of our customers order between ten and fifty units. This is the first time I have had anyone ask for that many.)
“I see. In that case, I’d also like to see one of the model Myrrdin Fifteen.” I added.
Mr. McIntosh coughed and staggered back a step.
RJ looked like he desperately wanted to ask a question, but Mary Beth beat him to it. “What’s a Myrrdin Fifteen?”
“That my dear friend, is the very top of their line. It’s the Cadillac of PDA’s, satellite communications, TCP/IPv4 and TCP/IPv6 capable, screaming, fast CPU, two-hundred fifty-six gig of internal ram, with a micro SD slot for additional memory, and a full biometric feedback security system, not just a thumb print scanner,” I replied, rattling off some of the specifications.
“What’s a biometric feedback system?” Mary Beth asked.
“It’s the latest in hand held computer security. It actually reads the users DNA and will only respond to the authorized user,” RJ informed her. “However, that doesn’t tell me why you would want to see one, Matilda.”
“That’s my fee,” I calmly replied.
“Your fee?” Mary Beth asked.
“Fee for my services in becoming Breen Marketing’s, outside Internet security analyst,” I answered.
It was quiet for a few moments. Then Mr. McIntosh got out his PDA and called someone, while walking to the middle of the room. “Iseabail? Alistair, can ye brin' me a Merlin Fifteen. I’m in th' showroom wi' a customer.” “Yes, complete. Chargers, dockin' station, th' works. Also brin' a body ay th' remote satellite transceivers an' th' confidentiality agreement fur th' Merlin Fifteen. thenk ye Iseabail.”
(Iseabail, Alistair, can you bring me a Merlin fifteen. I’m in the showroom with a customer.) (Yes, complete. Chargers, docking station, the works. Also bring one of the remote satellite transceivers and the confidentiality agreement for the Merlin fifteen. Thank you Iseabail.)
While Mr. McIntosh was talking with Iseabail, I looked at Mary Beth and RJ, saying, “I didn’t think he’d go for it just like that. I figured he’d want to do some negotiating, at least.”
“It looks like our Munchkin is already earning a name for herself. Although, I'm not sure Principal Peterson is going to approve of her reputation or her fee,” RJ said.
“Yes, quiet the reputation, the Mystical Munchkin,” Mary Beth added.
Mr. McIntosh had finished his conversation, as had the three of us, when Shawn came rushing in with three boxes.
“Here yee be RJ, one model Twenty-Five Fifteen, one Twenty-Three Eighty-Five, and one Gwydion Twenty-Five, all with USA accessories,” Shawn announced, as he placed each box on the center table. Shawn pulled out a small knife and cut the tape on each of the boxes.
RJ and I examined the contents of each box. The PDA’s had enough of a charge to power up and let us go through some of the basic operating menus. Each box contained a docking station, so the PDA could be linked to and charged from a standard computer or a laptop. There was also a standard US wall charger and a 12 volt travel charger. I was wondering why a company in the UK would have so many PDA’s on-hand that were setup for sale and use in the US. Oh well, just another question for another day.
RJ and I both approved of the three models, for the intended uses, and at the stated price discounts.
As I was finishing up with the last PDA, Mary Beth whispered in my ear, “I thought we were only getting new PDA’s for the school when we're on campus. I thought the PDA’s we have now would become the travel PDA’s.”
“That was the plan. At least that was the plan before someone discovered an extra Twenty Million dollars, hiding in one of the schools accounts,” I whispered back.
“Oh, I see. Should we send Mr. Santino an anonymous letter to say thank you?” Mary Beth teased.
Before I could respond, a young women came into the showroom, carrying two boxes. She looked around for a moment, then she made a bee line for Mr. McIntosh. I assumed this was Iseabail.
"Here's the Myrrdin Fifteen you requested, Mr. McIntosh," she said.
"Thenk ye Iseabail."
"I'm confused sir, I don't see anyone from the military here. Who is this for?" Iseabail asked.
"Ye ur correct, thaur isnae anyain haur frae th' military.”
(You are correct, there isn't anyone here from the military.)
Mr. McIntosh turned towards me and continued. "Iseabail, thes is Matilda. please sit th' Merlin fifteen tae respond tae 'er.”
(Iseabail, this is Matilda. Please set the Merlin Fifteen to respond to her.)
"Mr. Mcintosh, ye cannae be serious,” Iseabail complained.
(Mr. McIntosh, you can't be serious,)
I saw a slight movement in the corner of my eye, as Iseabail continued, "She is jist a wee lassie."
"She is just a tiny little girl."
"OUUUUCCHHH," someone screamed.
"Munchkin, we have got to work on that reflex action," Mary Beth complained, as she rubbed her leg.
Looking up towards Iseabail and Mr. McIntosh Mary Beth added, "PLEASE don't call her a little girl, her reaction is predictable and painful."
Realizing that I'd kicked Mary Beth, I lost all interest in my new PDA. I helped Mary Beth hobble to the nearest chair, all the while I was profusely apologizing. It was several minutes before Mary Beth tired of my remorseful hovering and pushed me away. Reluctantly I left my wounded partner and went back to doing what I was supposed to do.
While RJ made the arrangements for how and when the PDA's to be shipped to the school, I was with Iseabail learning about the features of my Myrrdin Fifteen. With RJ carrying the boxes with the accessories for my new PDA, I put my arm around Mary Beth's waist, with her arm around my shoulder, and helped her limp back to the waiting area and Miss Adams.
"You know, I really can walk by myself," Mary Beth quietly said, as we left the showroom.
"But helping you helps me to not feel so bad, about hurting you," I countered.
"Do you know how silly this must look?"
"What's silly about it?"
"A person your size helping a person my size. I'm sure this looks a little funny."
"So it looks funny - WOW," I cried out, as Mary Beth's grip on my shoulders tightened and she lifted me off the ground.
As Shawn opened the door to the waiting room, we heard RJ behind us, laughing and asking, "Just who is helping who?"
When Miss Adams saw us she became slightly alarmed, "What happened to Matilda?"
"Matilda kicked Mary Beth," RJ cheerfully explained.
"I didn't mean to, and I said I was sorry," I confessed.
"So why did Matilda kick you, Mary Beth?" asked Miss Adams.
"It was one of those what's his name with his stupid dog things, again," Mary Beth tried to explain.
"Who's dog?" Miss Adams asked.
"The guy who trained his dog to eat at the sound of a bell. Only with Matilda she swings her leg when certain words are spoken. With considerable force I might add," Mary Beth explained.
"Okay, that explains why Mary Beth was kicked. So why is Mary Beth carrying Matilda?" Miss Adams asked.
"It didn't start out that way. I was trying to be helpful," I meekly replied, as Mary Beth set me down.
"I told the Munchkin I didn't need any help walking, but she insisted," Mary Beth added.
"Okay, okay, you don't need any help. I'll remember that when we get back home and you're stuck on some math problem," I said, as I took my boxes from RJ, and set them on a small table near Miss Adams.
"Wait a minute, I didn't say I didn't need any help, I just didn't need help walking. I still need help with school work. You will still help me, won't you," Mary Beth pleaded, with her puppy dog eyes.
"Oh ... of course I'll help you," I answered, with a smile. "Let's get this stuff packed so we can go get some lunch, I'm starving."
"RJ, what's in the boxes," Miss Adams asked.
"Matilda's fee," he replied.
"Her fee?" Miss Adams asked, her tone indicated she was very confused.
"I'll explain it later. I'll use you as my dry run. I'm not sure how I'll explain it to Principle Peterson," RJ explained.
With two PDA's sharing space in my skirt pocket, and the rest of my new accessories squeezed into my carry-on suitcase, we left Breen Marketing. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for them to recover from the Munchkin invasion. I had the contact information for Walter, hopefully he will find the alien system quickly so he can keep his job.
Once we were outside, on the sidewalk, we took a few minutes to discuss the itinerary for the rest of the day. We had a little extra time before we needed to be at the airport. Knowing that we'd be spending most of the next two days in airports and on airplanes, we decided to take the extra time we had and look around the shops that lined the road.
Lunch was easily taken care of, the little bakery we'd past was also a delicatessen. Hot roast beef, on fresh from the oven buns was absolutely heavenly. I was surprised by what they called chips. I think they were bite size, bits of potato, with some kind of breading, and then they were deep fried. They were tasty, even if they weren’t what I expected.
After lunch, we were casually walking along, looking through the windows of the different shops, when RJ stopped.
"Let's go in here," he said.
That day, in Edinburgh, I learned something new about RJ. Not only did he have dirty blond hair and a, neatly trimmed, red goatee and mustache, which I always thought was strange, I learned that he collected straight edge razors.
The shop we went into sold razors, knives, daggers, and all manner of swords. Some of the swords were longer than I was tall, and probably weighed more than I did. While RJ was negotiating for a razor, the rest of us were wandering around, looking at the variety. I was wondering if part of our training, at the Manor, would include self-defense using swords. My haphazard ‘mind wondering’ was interrupted by Mary Beth calling out.
"Hey Matilda, this has your name on it."
"It says Matilda on it?" I asked, as I moved to where Mary Beth was standing.
"Not Matilda. It says McNeil," she explained.
"Well, how about that, it does. I'm famous and I didn't know it," I replied, with just a little bit of smugness.
"Ye ur a McNeil?” the shop keeper asked.
I looked at the shop keeper, a rather large man, and shyly replied, "Yes, I suppose I am."
"Och, lassie, ne'er be ashamed ay bein' a McNeil. stain taa an' be prood, th' mcneil's ur a strang an' prood clan. fa is yer faither, lass?” he asked, as he stepped from behind the display with a large book in his hands.
(Oh, lassie, never be ashamed of being a McNeil. Stand tall and be proud, the McNeil's are a strong and proud clan. Who is your father, lass?)
"McNeil is my mother's name. I don't use my father's name," I replied, sharply.
"Ye arenae prood ay yer faither? " he asked.
(You are not proud of your father?)
RJ quickly had a quiet conversation with the shop keeper. I don't know exactly what was said, but I could guess, based upon the shop keeper's comments.
"Ye dornt say."
“Hoo coods a cheil harm his ain flesh an' bluid?"
(How could a man harm his own flesh and blood?)
“Och, th' puir lass."
“Aroond haur, onie cheil fa woods daur sic' atrocities, woods suin be missin' his manhuid," the shop keeper said, with an angry growl.
(Around here, any man who would dare such atrocities, would soon be missing his manhood.)
Then he opened the display case that had the shield with McNeil Coat of Arms. He pulled two things out of the display case.
Handing me a fair sized book, he explained, "Haur ye ur lassie, thes is th' cuttie history ay th' McNeil clan, datin' back tae th' sixteen-hundreds."
(Here you are lassie, this is the short history of the McNeil clan, dating back to the sixteen-hundreds.)
Then he handed me an impressive looking dagger, about a eighteen inches long, engraved in a sheath was a small replica of the McNeil Coat of Arms.
"Keep thes wi' ye, lassie, tae defend yerself against scum loch yer worthless faither."
(Keep this with you, lassie, to defend yourself against scum like your worthless father.)
"Thank you, sir. But, I don't think I should accept such gifts from someone I just met, and I don't even know your name," I answered, looking to RJ and Miss Adams for some kind of sign, or support.
"Oh, whaur ur mah manners?" the shopkeeper asked himself. "Ah be William Duncan Owen McNeil. Welcome tae mah humble shop, hoo main Ah be ay service?"
"Oh, where are my manners?" "I am William Duncan Owen McNeil. Welcome to my humble shop, how may I be of service?"
"So that's how you know so much about the McNeil's, you are one," Mary Beth exclaimed.
"Ah lass, aw mah life," Mr. McNeil replied, with a deep chuckle.
"So that would make us -" I started.
"Very distant coosins, but fowk nane th' less. An', as yer older coosin Ah feel ye need tae learn abit yer clan, by takin' 'at book an' learnin' th' clan history," Mr. McNeil replied.
(Very distant cousins, but family none the less. And, as your older cousin I feel you need to learn about your clan, by taking that book and learning the clan history,)
Looking to RJ for some guidance, he smiled and nodded once.
"Very well Mr. McNeil, from one cousin to another, I accept your gift of our family history. As for this sword -"
"It’s jist a wee dagger," Mr. McNeil corrected.
"It may be a little dagger to you, but to me it’s a large sword, almost as long as my arm. Anyway, be it sword or dagger, I cannot accept it," I explained.
"But it is a gift tae ye," Mr. McNeil professed.
"And a very gracious gift indeed," RJ said, coming to my rescue. "The problem is, we would never get that beautiful dagger past airport security."
"Airport security? 'At shooldnae be a problem. Ah used tae carry fife tae ten swords wi' me aw th' time," Mr. McNeil stated.
"Airport security? That shouldn't be a problem. I used to carry five to ten swords with me all the time,"
"How long ago was that?" RJ asked.
"I guess it’s bin abit fifteen tae twintie years since Ah lest took a rush order ay swords tae London," Mr. McNeil explained.
"I guess it’s been about fifteen to twenty years since I last took a rush order of swords to London,"
"I'm afraid there have been a few changes in the last twenty years," RJ said.
He didn't go into a lot of details, but he told Mr. McNeil about the biggest changes in airport security. After they finished talking about the current state of the travel industry, they went back to RJ's purchase of a straight razor. With their business complete, we left Mr. McNeil's shop. RJ hailed a cab and we were soon on our way to the airport.
After landing in London, RJ had everyone leave their PDA’s in Airplane mode as he went to rent a car. After leaving the airport we drove for a little over an hour. Eventually we drove through a small town called Heath and Reach. What a strange name for a town I thought. We'd just passed through the center of town when RJ turned onto a small road.
As we started down the road, RJ started to tell us where we were going, "Right. Now then, because you two know more about the S. P. A. and the schools that they run, than any other student at the Manor, I'm going to tell you something that must not leave the confines of this car. We're going to Hayfield Hall. We will be guests there for one night, leaving tomorrow just after lunch. Now listen carefully, none of the students here knows anything about Immigration Manor and we need to keep it that way. Whoever you talk with or have any interaction with, they cannot know about the Manor. I know this will be hard for both of you, having to keep your entire world secret, but it is a secret that must be kept, from everyone you come in contact with. Do you both understand?”
We both nodded, then I asked, “Is there a cover story we can use? I’m sure they are going to ask who we are, where we’re from, and why we’re here.”
RJ smiled and nodded, “As a matter of fact, there is. Two years ago, there was an international music competition being held in Toronto. Both schools were in attendance, although there was no interaction between the students. However, the two music directors were introduced and have kept in touch. The cover story is, we are here to give a little concert. The idea is to show Mrs. Russell how one or two voices can actually enhance the sound of an orchestra.”
Timidly I asked, “What sort of concert are we giving?”
“You and Mary Beth will perform three or four songs as a duet, the same as you did on Christmas Eve, Mary Beth singing and you on the Glockenspiel. Then Miss Adams and I will join you for one song, followed by the national anthems, from both countries,” RJ explained.
“So there’ll be three of us singing and Matilda on the glockenspiel?” Mary Beth asked.
“No, my dear,” Miss Adams clarified. “You and RJ will be singing. Matilda will be playing the glockenspiel and I will be playing a harp.”
“I didn’t know you played the harp,” I stated.
“Well, obviously you don’t know everything,” RJ teasingly replied, with a huge smile.
“Just don’t spread it around,” Mary Beth said, with an equally massive smile. Then she added, “If word got out that the Munchkin doesn’t know everything, it could really mess up her reputation.”
Shaking my head, I lightly slapped Mary Beth’s shoulder and asked, “What songs are we performing?”
“The first three or four are up to you,” RJ replied.
“The song that we’ll be doing as a mixed quartet is something that Mrs. Taylor wants to use as a signature song for the school, for the coming year. That is, it will be performed at every concert,” Miss Adams added. “You haven’t played this song before, but I’m told you can learn a new song very quickly.”
“That’s true. She had ‘Carol of the Bells’ down after just a few hours of practicing,” Mary Beth added.
“Right. Well, after that we’ll be doing ‘God Save the Queen’ and then our national anthem. We’ve already reserved one of the practice rooms for tonight and tomorrow morning. That should give us enough time to practice together, so we will have the professional sound that the Manor is known for,” RJ stated.
“I’ve never played ‘God Save the Queen’,” I said.
“I have the music for that, as well,” Miss Adams replied.
We'd traveled about half a mile, or so, down the road, when we came upon a pair of iron gates, standing about twelve feet tall. RJ pulled up to a small box, mounted on a post, and pressed a button.
"Yes!"
"Russell Wentworth Jr."
The gates slowly and majestically swung open, and we slowly proceeded through. The wheels of the car crunched against the gravel road. In the distance, I saw the main building, which looked about two hundred years old. There were two wings on either side that looked like they'd been recently added. The car came to a stop, along a circular drive, close to the main entrance.
As RJ shut down the engine, he turned to me and said, "Matilda, when we were in Edinburgh you were allowed to freely explore their network, correct?"
"Yes, it was really a lot of fun. Although, I expected their security to be better than it was."
“Two things; first, to add to the anonymity of Immigration Manor, it would be best if you two didn’t use your real names,” RJ started.
“You want us to make up and use different names on the spur of the moment?” I asked.
“Actually, I was thinking that you could just use your nicknames while you're here,” RJ explained.
“Oh, okay, that should be easy enough,” Mary Beth replied.
I nodded my agreement, then added, “And second?”
“Yes, the second; I need you to promise that you won't go exploring on their local networks. In fact, all of our PDA’s should be left in airplane mode, so they are not picked up by the local system."
After thinking about it for a few seconds, I replied, "I understand, and I promise I won't invade, or explore, the local networks. Is it okay if I charge and power up my new satellite PDA?"
"As long as you only power up the satellite radio and not the Wi-Fi radio. The local networks must not pick up the presence of that PDA. If the Wi-Fi comes online the local system will detect it the moment it is activated and scans for networks," he confirmed.
“I understand, RJ. No Wi-Fi of any kind,” I acknowledge.
With our private conversation finished, we got out and retrieved our bags from the trunk of the car.
We followed RJ through the main entrance and into a large hall. The building looked like it used to be a large stately home. The oak paneled walls gleaming from the bright glistering chandeliers. The thick plush carpets made me want to take off my shoes and walk bare footed. I expected a butler to appear, to take our names.
I’d just started my initial scan of the area, those old survival skills coming to life once again, when a young lady, a gentleman, and an older lady, I'd almost go as far as to say grandmotherly, approached us. The two adults seemed to know both RJ and Miss Adams, as they exchanged hushed greetings and handshakes.
Turning to Mary Beth and me, almost as if we were an afterthought, RJ introduced everyone. “Let me introduce our two youngest students. First is a special young lady we call Munchkin.”
“And if you value your legs, don’t make reference to her size,” Miss Adams quietly added, with a smile.
“We also have her study partner, MayBee, that’s M A Y B E E. Girls, I’d like to introduce Mr. Hobson, he's the headmaster here." Obviously the gentleman. "The lovely lady is Mrs. Katherine Mayhew," RJ said, indicating the older lady.
"I see you're still oozing with charm, RJ," Mrs. Mayhew replied, with a smile, while she teasingly slapped RJ's shoulder.
"And this is Miss Shelly Wright," Mr. Hobson continued with the introductions, indicating the young lady.
"We're pleased to meet you," Mary Beth and I said together.
"Likewise," Mr. Hobson said. "Now that we've all been introduced, we best be showing you to your rooms. It's almost time for dinner. Shelly, you have the menus?"
"Of course, sir." Shelly replied, handing each of us a small piece of paper and a pencil. "If you'll mark your choices, I'll place your requests with the kitchen."
We quickly marked our menus and handed them back to Shelly. She immediately left, heading for destinations unknown.
As Shelly turned to leave, Mr. Hobson continued, "RJ, as you know our accommodations are somewhat limited. So, if you and Miss Adams will follow me, Kate will escort our young guests to some of our student rooms."
"I'm sure whatever you have will be acceptable," Miss Adams commented.
Mary Beth and I followed Mrs. Mayhew to what they referred to as the sleeping wing. We stopped at an unmarked door, which looked the same as all the other unmarked doors we passed along the way.
“This will be your room MayBee.” Mrs. Mayhew said, as she opened the door, ushering us inside.
“The Munchkin’s room is next door. It can also be accessed through this interconnecting door,” she told us, as she led us through to my room.
“There’s an ensuite bathroom in each room, if you’d like to freshen up before I show you the way to the dining room.”
“I don’t know about you, MayBee, but we’ve been traveling for a while and I’m going to wash up before dinner,” I said, heading for the bathroom.
“That’s a good idea, Munchkin. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
As I was closing the bathroom door, I noticed Mrs. Mayhew sit on the couch.
As was typical, I took a little longer in the bathroom than Mary Beth. When I left the bathroom, Mary Beth was on the couch with Mrs. Mayhew, talking.
When Mrs. Mayhew noticed me crossing the room, she asked, “So tell me Matilda, do you enjoy playing the Glockenspiel?”
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
Note
Gwydion
Celtic (Welsh) Warrior and magician God, God of enchantment, illusion, magic.
Myrrdin
"Merlin", Celtic (Britania, Irish & Welsh) Sorcerer, Druid, Wizard and Magician.
The Christmas Gift
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Character Age:
TG Universes & Series:
TG Themes:
Permission:
As I was passing my father's office, I heard him talking to his assistant, Marrie, via the intercom. "Marrie, would you ask Greg to come to my office, right away?"
"Certainly, Mr. Masters," she replied.
I stopped and smiled to myself. "What do you think, Marrie; should I go in now, or should it appear that you had to call me from my office?"
"Well, Mr. Masters, from my experience with your father, if he says 'right away,' he means right away."
“Marrie, how many times have I asked you to call me Greg?”
“I’m sorry sir. You may be ten years younger than me, but as my boss’s son it just wouldn’t be proper.”
“All right, have it your way. It’s just that, you calling me Mister makes me feel … well, it makes me feel old.”
“I’m sorry sir, but-“
“Never mind Marrie, it’s not your fault. Have a nice day.”
Having lost another battle for my identity and feeling older than I was, I knocked on Dad's office door.
"Come in"
Opening the door, I said, "Hi Dad, you wanted to see me?"
"Well, that was fast, or have you been hanging around flirting with Marrie again?"
"Of course not Dad, I just happened to be passing by. Anyway, Marrie isn't my type. Actually, I’ve heard that Wallace in accounting has a thing for her."
"Yes, I’ve heard that too. He’d better be good to her, I don’t want to have to train a new assistant. But that's not why I wanted to see you. Do you remember Mrs. Hunter?"
"Let me think ... that would be, June Hunter?"
"That's her! She and her late husband James have been clients of the firm since before you passed the bar, she still is. You see, she has cancer and it’s no longer responding to any of the treatments. With her permission, I’ve been staying in touch with her doctors. They say they can slow it down a little, but there's nothing they can do to stop it. They don't think she is going to live more than another six months, a year at the outside.
“They also told me that she has one wish before she leaves this life. She wants to see her granddaughter. June and James couldn’t have children of their own, so they adopted a ten year old girl, Victoria. It broke June's heart when Victoria ran off to LA with a drummer for some rock band.
“About 10 years ago, June received a birth announcement, indicating that Victoria had a daughter. About five years ago, she received a picture of her granddaughter, Samantha. June hasn't heard anything since receiving that picture. Greg, I want you to track down Victoria and Samantha, and bring them back here."
"Hang on Dad, that's a big request."
"That's why I’m asking you, Son. This job needs to be handled very carefully. I also know how understanding you are, and how you will handle this assignment. There are some other reasons that I want you to do this for me, I just can’t go into them right now."
"Dad, I know you have a lot of faith in me and my blood hound instinct, but that trail will be pretty cold."
"It may be colder than you think,” he mumbled softly. “There's one other thing; you need to find them before Christmas. Like I said, the doctors don't know how long June will live past then, or how coherent she may be after that."
"Christmas? Dad, that's only four months away! How am I going to find them in five months?"
"I expect you’ll work hard, move quickly, and follow each lead carefully. Son, there's one more thing; I’d like you to use your personal credit card for this, not the firm’s card. I'll see to it that the bill is paid."
That one took me by surprise. I thought for a moment before asking, "Dad … who’s June Hunter?"
"What do you mean?"
"Dad, you've always taught me to keep my personal and business expenses separate. Now you're telling me to use my personal account for what should be a business matter. I have to ask, who is June Hunter?"
"Let's just say that she's a friend of our family, being that she was disowned by her own."
I could tell that my father was in agony on this subject, but I had to know what I was getting into, and why. I softened my voice as I again asked, "Dad, who is June Hunter?"
"I guess you could say … she's my half sister," he whispered, there were tears in his eyes. I'd never seen my father cry.
"Dad, I know you're from a big family, but I didn't know that either of my grandparents were involved with anyone else before they met each other."
"No son, they weren't."
"Dad, you're not making any sense. The only way June Hunter could be your half sister would be if ..."
"I … I guess you could also say that she's my ... half brother," Dad whispered as he broke into tears.
I waited patiently for my father to collect himself. It was several minutes before he was able to continue. "Son, when you were fourteen your Uncle Gregory passed away suddenly, remember?"
"Yes, I remember, it was a big funeral; everyone was there from both sides of the family. As I recall, only a few were crying, almost everyone else appeared mad or angry. I never did figure that out. Everyone loved Uncle Gregory. Why would they be mad about his death?"
"Maybe because the funeral was a farce, although several of the family wanted to kill him. He received threatening calls and letters for weeks before the funeral."
"You're not making any sense. Why would anyone want to hurt Uncle Gregory? ... Dad what’s going on, what really happened?"
"Son, your Uncle Greg and I were very close, closer than most brothers. That's why I named you after him. We shared our youth, our lives, and we each others secrets. Yet through all the years we spent together there was something different about him, something that I never quite understood or could identify. A month before Greg's funeral, he came back from a trip to Thailand. No one had seen him for about a year before that. When he came home, he wasn't Gregory, at least not the Gregory that everyone knew. Son, June Hunter is your Uncle Gregory."
"Are you telling me that Uncle Greg had a, a ..."
"Yes Son, she underwent sexually reassignment surgery while she was in Thailand. Your grandfather was furious when she came home and made the announcement. He threw June out with just the clothes on her back and not a penny to her name. He had Greg declared dead and seized his assets. No one in the family would do anything to help her, no one ... except me. I just couldn't turn my back on her as the rest of the family had done. Greg and I had been too close for me to abandon her that way. We spent hours and hours talking. I finally understood how she felt about her life, her feelings, about others like her and about the feelings she had for me when we were young ..."
Dad was sobbing again. I hadn’t meant for this to happen, but I had to know that what I was being asked to do wouldn't cause me to be ashamed of myself. Over the years, I've learned truth can depend on your point of view. Right and wrong can have a variety of meanings. The one thing I've found over the years that seems to work the best as a guide is to ask myself this one question; 'Will what I'm about to do, cause me to be ashamed of myself?’
Twenty-two years ago, as a boy of thirteen, I did what I believed to be legally the right thing to do, and technically, it was. It wasn't until I was nineteen that I learned and understood the full consequences of my actions. The shame and disgrace I’ve felt ever since has been a constant reminder of the need to look at all sides of a situation before making a decision. I've never been able to forgive myself for hurting Nicholas the way I did.
"Dad, when I ran away from Marshallville and told you what they were doing; you contacted the US Marshal’s, you tried to hunt them down, to stop them. You lectured me that what they were doing was legally wrong, a crime against nature, and a sin against God. I know, from the reports I read later, that when the Marshals arrived at the school it was empty. I was sick about it. I didn’t know what happened to Elizabeth or Kimberley or any of the other students. It was all because of me that the school disappeared.” ‘I guess admitting that, when I was nineteen, Elizabeth came to me and told me what happened to her and the school after I left, doesn’t matter. I wasn’t going to make the same, stupid, mistake twice; then or now.’ “Now I find out that a year after all of that, your brother announced that he’d had feminine feelings all his life, that he was transgender, and had a gender reassignment and then suddenly it was okay?"
"Son, I … I … um, ... I don't what to say."
"Let's start at the beginning; Dad. Is it possible for someone to feel that they are truly female, even though they have a male body?"
With a heavy sigh, he replied, "Yes."
"Is it wrong for someone like that to want their body to match how they feel?"
"No, Son, it's not wrong."
"So you're telling me that I've wasted the last fourteen years of my life being lonely? Refusing to commit to a relationship with Elizabeth because I thought you'd disapprove of her! You know that’s why I’ve never married her? I've never found anyone else that made me feel … complete."
"Son, all I can say is … I'm sorry."
I thought about what I'd just learned, about my life and the choices I've made. It seemed like I took hours before all my past thoughts, feelings, and emotions made sense, and I made a decision, several actually. "When do I leave, Dad?”
"Thank you, Son. As soon as possible."
"Very well, I'll leave this afternoon. Sally has the information on my cases and can brief whoever you want to take them over. I'll need all the Information you have on Victoria and Samantha."
"Everything we have is right here, son. I'm afraid there isn’t much to go on," Dad confessed as he handed me an envelope.
"You can say that again," I exclaimed. In the large envelope were two smaller envelopes. They were addressed to 'Mom', with the address of the Hunter estate. The return addresses were different, so there was no help there. I'd have to check out both addresses.
The first contained a standard birth announcement, pink, 'Congratulations, you’re a Grandmother, love Vicky' had been signed below the statistics. Odd, the line for sex had been left blank. The second contained a picture of a young girl about five or six, blue eyes, long brown hair, dimples and a smile that would melt the coldest heart. On the back, in a child's hand, were the words, 'HI GRAM MA'. Below in a much more polished hand, 'Hi, Mom, Isn't Sammie beautiful? She started school today. Mom, she's just like you. Love, Vicky'.
"Okay, Dad, I'm off. I'll call you each week to give you updates. Will you keep me posted as to Aunt June's condition?"
"Of course, Son, and … thank you. Not just for taking on this task, but for accepting June."
"Well, she is my aunt, isn't she?"
"Yes, Son, she is." I detected a hint of pride in dad’s voice just then. I wasn’t sure if it was pride in me or in Aunt June; right then, it didn’t matter.
"So long, Dad. I'll keep in touch."
"Good luck, Son."
I left Dad’s office and went back to my own, where I Informed Sally that I'd be away for a while and that my Father would be re-assigning my caseload to other members of the firm. I went to my apartment, packed two bags, my laptop and printer. I was heading out to my car when I realized I'd forgotten about my fish. I called Sally, asked her to arrange to have my aquarium moved to the office.
As I was heading for I-15 I suddenly realized something. I needed to see someone before I left town. I turned around and headed for the hospital, where I asked for June Hunter.
Of course, they wanted to know who I was, and why I was inquiring about her. I paused briefly before telling them that I was her nephew.
When I entered the specified room, the dignified looking woman that I knew as June Hunter was reclining in the bed. Every hair was in place; her makeup looked like an expert had applied it. This time however, I was looking at her with different eyes; I couldn't stop them from tearing.
"May I help you, young man?"
"Hello, Aunt June."
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"No, Aunt June, I'm not confused, at least not anymore. I don't know how I missed seeing the resemblance before. Probably just stupidity on my part, and a little bit of society confusing my brain."
"I'm sorry, young man ..."
"You don't recognize me Aunt June? I'm Gregory Masters, Shawn Masters’ son. I know that you know my father."
"Of course I know him; he's been my lawyer for years."
"And he's been your brother, for your whole life." That was when she started crying. I rushed to her bedside, taking her hand in mine. "Aunt June, it wasn't my intention to upset you. Please don't cry."
After she had regained her composure she continued, "So, why have you come here? Come to tell me how repulsive I am, like the rest of the family?"
"Aunt June! No, it’s nothing like that. I came to visit with my aunt, and to apologize for wasting so many years."
"What do you mean, wasting?"
"I mean that I’m sorry for all the years that I've missed knowing my favorite aunt."
"You’re a foolish boy!"
"Aunt June, I may have been a foolish boy from time to time, but this isn't one of them."
"Someday you'll be ashamed of me, just like everyone else."
"Aunt June, I've done some things in my life that I've been ashamed of. At thirteen I ran out on the best friend I ever had, just when she needed me the most. I hurt hundreds of people because I was blind, stupid, and thinking only of myself. Once I realized how stupid I'd been, it was too late; the damage had been done. I have spent, and will spend, the rest of my life trying to undo that mistake. Never again will I do something that would cause me to be ashamed of myself, and that includes knowing you. I'm not ashamed of you; in fact, I'm proud of you. And I'm proud to be your nephew."
"You're a silly boy, Gregory Masters. You were silly when you were a wee lad, and you're just as silly today. But I thank you for coming to see a grumpy old woman."
"You're welcome, Auntie. Now that I've put a smile on your face, I need to be off."
"So soon? But you've only just arrived."
"I'm sorry, but Dad has me looking for a Christmas gift for a dear friend of his."
"A Christmas gift? But Christmas is months away!"
"Yes, and it will probably take me that long to find it."
"Well, it must be something very special if your father is sending you to look for it now."
"Yes Auntie, very special indeed. Listen, I'm going to call you while I'm away and I'll come see you as soon as I get back." I gave Aunt June a hug, wiped my eyes and headed for LA.
I set up a small office to work out of, well, OK; I set up my laptop and printer on the desk in my room at a Best Western. The return addresses were the first places to start. It took me three weeks to run down the leads I got from them, all dead ends.
Next, I tried the LA county birth records. The birth announcement didn’t have a date of birth on it so I had to guess based upon the postmark on the envelope. Want to guess how many Victorias had children during the six month time frame where I estimated Samantha would have been born? It took days and days to sort through those records. I didn't know if Victoria had changed her last name or not, so I had to read every birth certificate in the database, reading the names of the mother's parents.
As it turned out, Victoria hadn't changed her name, but I didn’t know it right away. According to the first birth certificate that even came close, the mother was single, but there was a father's name listed, which gave me a new lead to follow. I kept searching the database for record of a second birth that might be a better match, but couldn't come up with one. You see, the record I found was for a boy, a boy named Samuel.
It took weeks to chase down the father. Musicians move around frequently and they don't usually bother updating their driver’s license information.
Eight weeks passed; almost half of my time was gone before I finally made contact. My search had ended, or had it? As it turned out, I would never have the honor of meeting my cousin Victoria. The sperm donor who had impregnated her, producing a child, was now nothing more than a drifter, little more than a vagrant. According to his account, they had dumped Sam at an orphanage when he was seven because they couldn't afford to feed him. When I asked about the girl, Samantha, he laughed until he fell down.
Victoria it seems, had died of unknown causes a year after she had abandoned Sam. She was buried at county expense, in an unmarked grave in Bishop, California, just a plot number on the cemetery map. I notified Dad, and he would make the arrangements for Victoria’s body to be exhumed. She would be flown home to be reburied on the right side of her father. The space on his left was for June.
Two days later, I managed to see the director of the orphanage where Sam had been left. I was expecting to see terrible living conditions, and abused and neglected children. To my very pleasant surprise, it was neat and the children were clean and well behaved, and overall they seemed to be happy.
"Mr. Martinez, I'm Gregory Masters."
"How can I help you Mr. Masters?"
"I'm looking for a child."
"An infant, a toddler ...”
"Oh no, I'm sorry, Mr. Martinez, please let me start over,” I interrupted. I continued while I produced my identification. “I'm Gregory Masters, attorney at law. I’m searching for the grandchild of a client. Through the course of my investigation, it was revealed to me that the child I'm looking for was left here about three years ago.”
Mr. Martinez was very pleasant. Once he was satisfied as to who I was and the purpose of my visit, he brought his computer on line so he could search the home’s database. "Well, that's an entirely different situation. Obviously you're not looking to adopt one of our children. All right now, what do you know about the child in question?"
"I have very little information. As I indicated, the child was left here about three years ago. She was seven years of age at that time, blue eyes and brown hair and according to a picture that was sent to my client, she has a smile that would melt any heart." I produced the picture, passing it to Mr. Martinez.
He agreed that Samantha's smile would melt your heart. "So you’re looking for a girl that would be ten, is that correct?"
"Well, I’m not sure that’s quite correct! You see, according to the only birth certificate I found with the correct mother and grandparents, I'm looking for a boy named Sam. According to the um ... the individual that Sam and his mother were living with at the time, Sam always wore girls’ clothes. So when Sam was left here, he may have seemed out of place."
"Three years ago, a boy who dressed as a girl, and insisted he was a girl. Yes, I know the one you mean. Are you sure, you want that one? We've got lots of good well behaved boys here."
"I'd like to see and speak with the child, privately if I may. I need to find out if this is the child I'm looking for."
"Well you can see him, but he won't talk to you. He hasn't said anything for about two years." Mr. Martinez reached for his phone. "I don't think this client of yours will want him around.”
Picking it up, he dialed, “Hello, Sid? This is Juan. Find the fruit and bring him to my office.” He listened for a moment. “Sid, just clean him up and bring him to my office.”
He turned back to me, “It'll be a few minutes before he arrives. Do you want to wait here or in the lobby?"
"I'll wait in the lobby, if it’s all the same. I've got some paperwork to go through. I have one question first. Why did you call him the fruit?"
"Because he's a fruitcake! Always insisting that he's a girl, wants to wear girls clothes. After lights out he used to sneak down to the laundry and change into the girls panties and nightgowns. He'd hide panties to wear under his pants. Refused to have his hair cut, kept screaming ‘All the other girls have long hair.’ The staff finally got tired if his games and took some drastic action to keep him in line."
I left to wait in the lobby. Half an hour later Mr. Martinez called me back into his office. I was horrified by the spectacle in front of me. It was indeed a human child, but beyond that, I wasn't sure. He looked more like one of the Jews that had been liberated from the German extermination camps near the end of W.W. II. His head was shaved, his skin hung from his bones, he was dressed in only a dirty tee shirt and briefs.
It didn't matter to me if this was Sam or not, somehow I was taking this child out of here. And if I had my way, someone was going to lose their cushy job over this.
The boy standing in front of Mr. Martinez's desk seemed more like a morbid statute than a child. I removed my jacket as I approached, wrapping it around him. "May I speak with him privately?” I asked.
"You can try. I'll be close by if you need anything."
After Martinez left I made use of my cell phone’s built in camera. Removing my jacket from Sam, I took several pictures. I sent them to Dad along with a note, 'I think this is Sam. More info to follow. Wish me luck.'
Replacing the jacket, I picked up Sam. I sat in the nearest chair and set Sam on my knee. I don't think he weighed more than forty pounds.
I spent twenty minutes trying to get him to talk before, in desperation, I got out my phone and called for reinforcements. "Hello, Elizabeth? It's Gregory."
"Greg! Hi! What has it been, a month? No, I’m teasing again, it's only been two weeks. I have to admit that I was a little shocked when you called two months ago, but I’ve enjoyed our calls since then. The first was just after you started that special assignment. By the way, how's that going? And what did you mean; you had a surprise for me?"
"Well, about your surprise, you’re just going to have to wait until I can come see you. As for my special assignment, it’s not going so well, I'm afraid. Victoria died about two years ago. The granddaughter, Samantha, has turned out to be a grandson named Sam. I've found him in an orphanage. He's been so mistreated and abused it’s positively frightening. I'm with him now; the problem is he won't speak. I need him to confirm his identity before I'll be able to help him. That's why I'm calling you this time of day. How can I get him to talk to me?"
"Greg, I'm not the right one to talk to about that, you need a child psychiatrist. I do know some people who might be able to help you. Hang up and I'll make a few calls and I see what I can do. If I can’t find anyone I’ll call you back, otherwise I’ll have a friend of mine call you directly. Is it okay to give them this number?."
"Thank you, Elizabeth. Yes, you can give out this number, I trust you to do your best. I'll call later tonight so we can talk in more detail."
I waited nervously as the seconds ticked by. I jumped when my phone rang. "This is Greg."
"Gregory Masters?" inquired a young female voice.
"Yes! I'm Gregory Masters."
"Hi, my name is Rachael. I’m a friend of Elizabeth’s. She tells me you have a little problem. And if I understood her correctly, your problem is sitting on your lap?"
I briefly recapped the entire story, adding more details of Sam's current condition.
"Mr. Masters, I believe that her refusal to speak is part of her mind blocking out the current situation. The use of the male name only adds to the problem. At this time I’d assume she associates her current situation, the pain and suffering, with being male. I suggest using her feminine name; that should bring her around, at least enough to answer a few questions. I must caution you, keep the questions simple, easy for her to understand and answer. Once you get her out of there and get to your hotel, give me a call."
"Thank you Rachael. I'll call you as soon as we get back to my hotel." I quickly stored the number Rachael had called me from, along with her name. It then occurred to me, I didn’t have a last name.
Putting away my phone, I gently leaned down and whispered "Samantha?"
At first there was no response, but I kept at it. “Samantha, are you in there Samantha?” It was as if someone had flipped a switch, giving her life. She slowly turned her head and looked into my eyes. As I looked into her eyes, I started to see the girl in the picture.
"You are Samantha, aren't you?” I asked gently. Her response was purely visual, the tiniest hint of a smile, a hint of a twinkle in her eyes, and a slight nod of her bald head.
"Samantha, I'm your Uncle. My name is Gregory. I'd like to take you away from here, but I need your help. First, do you remember your mommy?"
She responded by nodding. "That's good, Sweetheart. Can you tell me your mommy's name?"
I received only silence. "Samantha, before I can help you, you have to talk with me. I need you to tell me your mommy's name."
Her mouth opened, ever so slightly, and a barely audible whisper came forth, "Mommy."
If I hadn’t been afraid it would scare her, I’d have jumped up and spun her around with her in my arms. We hadn't won the war yet, but this was definitely a huge step in the right direction. "That's great, Sweetheart, you’re doing just great. Do you remember what the man that you and your mommy lived with called your mommy?"
"Slut." Her one word reply made me want to strangle the life out of that good for nothing scumbag.
I forced myself to smile, to show her that she was indeed doing well. "Let's forget that one, okay Sweetheart? Did your mommy have other friends?"
She responded with another nod.
"That's great. Do you remember what your mommy’s friends called her?"
"Vicky," she whispered.
"Could you say that again, and just a little louder, just so I know that I heard you correctly?”
"Vicky," she said with just a little more confidence. I could have sworn I heard angels singing the Hallelujah chorus.
I gently hugged my niece. "That's terrific! That's all I needed to hear. A little paperwork, and we'll be on our way."
I stood up, carrying Samantha with me, opened the office door and called for Mr. Martinez. Leaving the door open, I sat down and retrieved several forms from my briefcase, and started to fill them out.
Mr. Martinez arrived after a few moments. "Mr. Martinez, thank you for joining us. This is the child I've been looking for. I will be taking her with me."
Samantha smiled as she laid her head against my chest.
"Her?” Martinez shouted. "You're as nutty as he is."
"If you would be so kind as to sign these release forms?" I smiled as I handed him the forms, ignoring his comment.
"I'm not signing anything. It'll take weeks to process the paperwork through the court system. You're not taking that fruitcake anywhere."
"Mr. Martinez, you are in charge of this facility, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then you are responsible for the actions of the staff members?"
"Yeess."
"Then as I see it, you have a choice to make. Either sign these release forms and get me some decent clothes for Samantha; those would be girls clothes, … or I'll forward the pictures I took of this child to the Director of the Department of Social Services Child Welfare section, the State Office of Child Abuse Prevention; as well as the chief of the California Juvenile Justice System, not to mention every newspaper and television station in Southern California. I'm sure that everyone will be impressed with the fine quality of care that is given to the children under your care."
Mr. Martinez stared at me for two minutes before he decided I wasn't bluffing. Slowly he reached for his phone, "Stella, Juan! Bring a complete girl’s outfit to my office. Size? I don't know, something to fit a small ten-year-old." He slammed the phone down. Taking the forms, he sighed them and threw them across the desk at me.
"Thank you for being so kind and understanding," I said as I signed the appropriate locations. I handed one form back, "For your records, sir."
"Just get the hell out of my office," he said gruffly.
As I put away the paperwork I replied, "We'll wait in the lobby for the clothes."
Standing, I picked up Samantha, then my briefcase. Turning to Mr. Martinez, "You have a nice day."
Twenty minutes later a large burly woman approached us carrying a bundle of clothes, which she put on the chair next to me. She didn't say anything but as she turned and walked away, I heard an evil chuckle. I suspected foul play even before I examined the clothes.
I picked up Samantha then handed her my briefcase, "Can you hold this for me, Dear?" She smiled and held it tightly with both arms.
I carefully picked up the offensive clothing and returned to Mr. Martinez office. I didn't bother to knock. My sudden entrance surprised him.
I spread the foulness across his desk. "I suppose, I should have specified clean clothes. Don't worry about it, we'll find something suitable at a local department store." I left before he could respond.
In my travels over the last eight weeks, I'd noted the location of more than a dozen malls, in addition to most of the major stand-alone department stores. At this time, however, I felt that something less public was called for so I headed for a little strip mall, and a specialty shop for girls that was about two miles from my hotel.
I'd planned on leaving Samantha in the car while I ran in after the essentials. She had other ideas, and wasn't about to be left behind. She wasn't even ashamed of how she was dressed, which told me they had kept her in just underwear for a very long time
The bell on the shop door jingled, as we entered. The smile on Samantha’s face when she saw the fancy dresses was worth her weight in gold.
The owner of the small shop was working behind the counter as we entered. "Good afternoon, I'll be right with ... you." She hesitated when she turned to see us.
"Good afternoon, we need some clothes for my niece here."
"Your ... Niece?
"Yes ma'am. About nine weeks ago, I learned that I had an aunt whom the family had disowned, who is dying of cancer. She had a daughter, and a granddaughter that she's never seen. I was tasked with tracking them down. I discovered that her daughter had passed away, and my niece had been left at an orphanage across town, where she has been mistreated. What we need is three or four complete changes of clothes. I don't know her sizes and would be grateful if you could help in that arena."
"I'm sorry, sir, my misunderstanding. My name is Paula. I'd be happy to help in any way I can. Why don't I take her into our changing room to take her measurements? Then we'll know what size clothes to look for."
"Thank you, Paula. I'm Gregory and this is Samantha."
We went to the back of the store where they had just one changing room. I set Samantha down trying to give her hand to Paula. Samantha just wouldn't let go of me. "Samantha, it's all right. Paula is just going to measure you. I'll wait right here, okay?"
She shook her head and hugged my waist. "Paula, I'm afraid she isn't going to let go of me. How large is that room?"
"It'll accommodate two comfortably, but not three."
"I guess you'll just have to do your best right here."
"Very well. Your jacket I presume? If you'll hold her hands with her arms out, I'll just measure her under the jacket."
We proceed as suggested. Samantha and I faced away from the front door and I held out her arms.
"Sir, why is your niece wearing boy’s underwear? And why is she so skinny?"
I lowered Samantha's arms and covered her ears with my hands while I briefly told Paula how the orphanage had treated her, and why, from the shaved head, to wearing only the dirty boys underwear she had on. Paula took a moment to wipe her eyes before we continued.
After her size had been determined, it was time to shop. I held Samantha’s hand as we looked at the options. Samantha's smile was infectious. She dragged me around the store looking at everything, with Paula chasing after us.
First, we dressed her in clean underwear, pink with lace; it must be her favorite color as most of what we purchased that day was pink. A slip was followed by a dress, knee high stockings and black Mary Jane shoes.
By the time we left Paula’s shop we'd collected six sets of underwear, four slips and dresses, six pairs of stockings, two pairs of shoes and two bottles of scented bubble bath. No doubt, she’d been happy to help us..
After we arrived at the hotel I started a bath, which Samantha needed desperately.
Once Samantha was in the tub, I called Rachael. "Mr. Masters, I was getting worried, I didn't expect it to take so long."
"I hadn't planned on taking so long, but we had to stop and get her some clothes. After all, I couldn't walk through the hotel lobby with her wearing just underwear and my jacket. They'd have called the police and had me arrested as a pedophile."
"Didn't the orphanage provide her with clothes?"
"Well, they did give us some clothes, but I think they opened a manhole and soaked them in sewage first. I thanked them by politely, as I smeared the foulness across the director’s desk."
"You did what? Oh, never mind. Where is Samantha now?"
"Bubble bath."
"How nice! There’s nothing better than a bubble bath to help one relax. Tell me, how much talking did you get from her?"
"Only three or four words so far. But she knew her mother's name, which was all I needed to hear. As for the bath, she needed one badly. Rachael, it's almost dinner time. In her current condition I'm not sure what or how much to feed her. She should really be seen by a doctor."
"You're right about the doctor. I've called a friend about that. You have an appointment tomorrow morning at 9:00 with Dr. Janice Raspberry. I've e-mailed you the address and directions to her office. She’s a little hard to find. Also, you have an appointment in one hour at the 'Styles and Smiles' hair salon."
"Hair salon? Did I forget to tell you that they shaved her head?"
"Styles and Smiles also does wigs. As for what to allow her to eat, I've e-mailed that along with the other things."
"You certainly think of everything. How long have you been a child psychiatrist? And how did you get my e-mail address."
"Only a few years, and Elizabeth helped with the address."
"Well, I'm impressed. You do know how to take care of children."
"Thank you, I do try. But, right now you’d better get her out of the tub and get moving. I'll call Styles and Smiles and let them know you're on your way. Good luck, and call me again if you have any other problems."
"Thank you, Rachael. You've been very kind and extremely helpful. How can I ever repay you for your kindness?"
"You just take care of that niece of yours. One other thing, call me when you get back to Idaho Falls, and I'll give you the name of a good psychiatrist. With the torment that she’s been through, she'll need someone to help her."
"I certainty will. Thanks again."
I went into the bathroom to find that Samantha was merrily playing with the bubbles and splashing to make more bubbles.
"I see you're having fun with the bubbles.” She looked up at me smiling. "I hate to spoil your fun, but we need to get you dressed. We have an appointment to get your hair done."
Her smile disappeared, as she sadly hung her head. I knelt by the tub and lifted her head to look into her eyes. "Samantha, I'm not making fun of you. I promise, before we go to dinner your head will be covered in beautiful brown hair."
The look in her eyes was full of questions, although she hadn't spoken more than the three words at the orphanage. ‘Oh well, I've got time.’
"Samantha, you need to get dressed," I lovingly explained. "I've brought in some clean underwear and a slip. Can you put them on by yourself?"
She looked at me for several seconds before nodding. "That's great. Here's a towel. You dry yourself and put these on. I'll help you with your dress as soon as you're ready."
I left her to put her under things on while I checked and printed the information that Rachael had sent. It took a little longer than I expected for Samantha to come out of the bathroom. I wasn't too concerned, and knew that she probably wanted a little extra time to herself, something I guess she hadn't had much of the last three years.
When the bathroom door slowly opened, I was busy at the computer. When I looked up, I noticed that Samantha hadn't put on her slip. "What's the matter, Sweetheart, don't know which way it goes?"
Timidly she shook her head. "Come here then. You know, I've never worn one of these myself, but together we should be able to figure it out." The smile on my face told her that I wasn't upset. It took us a couple of tries to get it right. Then I had her take it off and put it on by herself.
"All right, Sweetheart, which dress do you want to wear this evening?" She picked the blue dress this time, and then came the shoes and socks. Soon we were on our way.
The drive to Styles and Smiles was brief. I noticed that Samantha slid down in her seat, apparently trying to hide. I realized she was more ashamed of her bald head than I’d figured. I smiled to myself, knowing the surprise that was in store for her.
I carried Samantha as we entered. We were greeted by a friendly woman who introduced herself as Sandra Woodward. "Hello, you would be Gregory Masters, and you must be Samantha. I can see that we have a lot of work to do. Your hair is a complete disaster, knots and split ends everywhere," she giggled.
Samantha wasn't amused, and clung to me tightly. "I'm sorry, Sandra, but she is very sensitive about her lack of hair. I'm afraid her sense of humor is still in hiding somewhere."
"That's okay, I'll do a little bit of magic and maybe her sense of humor will find us. Could you help her into the last chair and we'll get started."
As I helped Samantha into the chair, Sandra disappeared into a back room. I gave Samantha a reassuring hug, "It's all right, Dear. Sandra is going to help you. I'm sure you're going to be happy that we came here."
Sandra came back, carrying a small wire rack with about fifteen to twenty samples of brown hair, in many different shades. "Samantha, could you help me please? These eyes of mine play tricks on me from time to time and they don't see colors very well. Could you show me which of these samples is the same as your hair color?"
Samantha, still nervous, sat quietly looking at Sandra. "It’s all right, Dear, just point to the sample that looks like what your hair should look like."
Timidly, Samantha reached out and touched one of the samples, a rich medium brown.
"That's very good Dear. Now, how long should your hair be?"
As she started softly crying, Samantha lifted her right hand to the left side of her head. As if stroking her hair, she moved her hand from above her left ear - stroking down to her shoulder, pausing, she continued down across her chest, stopping approximately at her left breast.
"My, such beautiful long hair you have Samantha." Sandra smiled as she whispered, "And you will have it again. Don't cry dear, I'm here to make you happy. You sit here with your Uncle Gregory. I'll be back in a couple of minutes with a little surprise."
As we waited for Sandra to return, I talked gently to Samantha. She seemed distracted, not paying attention to me, but her sadness was increasing. Then I realized she was staring at her reflection. "Samantha!” I called her name as I turned the chair so she couldn't see her reflection. “This is the last time you will ever see yourself hairless. Never again will anyone shave your head."
Sandra quietly returned and from behind, she set a wig onto Samantha's head. She was startled but sat still; I was in front of her, smiling to show her there was nothing to fear. When I rotated the chair and she could again see herself, this time with long flowing brown hair.
"Well, Samantha, what do you think of my magic?" asked Sandra. Samantha smiled for the first time since leaving the hotel. I whispered in her ear, telling her that she needed to thank Sandra for helping her. Samantha nodded, climbed down and went Sandra.
Sandra bent down as Samantha approached. They hugged, and Samantha kissed Sandra's cheek. I'm sure I heard a faint 'Thank you' in a tiny voice.
"You're so very welcome, my dear."
"Thank you, Sandra. She's even happier now than when we were dress shopping."
We received a lesson in wig care, as well as the things we'd needed to take care of the wig. Saying our goodbyes, we left Styles and Smiles, definitely with smiles.
According to the information from Rachael, Samantha could eat almost anything she wanted, however, nothing spicy, no carbonated drinks, and only about eight to ten ounces of food every two hours. Dr. Raspberry would give me more instructions when we meet with her. With that in mind, Samantha and I stopped at a small restaurant suitable for family dining. We both enjoyed their roast chicken with all the extras. Even though I couldn’t let Samantha eat everything on her plate, I did let her eat more than what Rachael had recommended. Samantha was upset at this, until I explained that if I let her eat everything she would be sick in the morning, which she agreed would be a bad thing.
Stopping at Walmart, we picked up a few necessities, toothbrush, every day clothes, and a water bottle. That had also been recommended by Rachael. She also needed something to sleep in. I was looking at some colorful pajamas, when I noticed that a short pink baby doll nightie had caught Samantha’s eye.
"Samantha, would you like that nightie instead of these pajamas?" A big smile and a nod of a head made the decision. For fun, we also picked up some coloring books, crayons, and a large teddy bear.
I also bought a large suitcase in which to pack her things.
Back at the hotel, I undid the buttons on the back of her dress and sent her to the bathroom to change into her nightie. We colored for a while before it was time to tuck her into bed. Once that was done, I sat down at my computer. I checked and sent some e-mail as well as printing out the directions to Dr. Raspberry's office.
Leaving one light on, I crawled into the other bed and was soon asleep. I was awakened sometime later by the movement of my bed. I smiled to myself as I remembered the last time someone had crawled into my bed. It had been such a long time ago.
‘She was such a skinny little thing back then. Scared and afraid of what the other students might say. For some unknown reason she trusted me, and I let her down. Gee I was stupid then. I’ll never make that mistake again. The next time I see her, I’ll ask her the question that’s been in my heart, and soul for more than two decades.’
The following morning, after getting both of us ready, we had a light breakfast. Then we were off to see Dr. Raspberry. Her office was decorated in a manner to help children relax. The waiting room was empty as we entered.
"Good morning I'm Dr. Raspberry. You must be Mr. Masters.” She gracefully knelt, “And you must be Samantha."
"Indeed we are; it's nice to meet you."
"And how are you today, Samantha?"
Samantha responded with a smile.
"She doesn't talk much," I replied with a smile, while squeezing her hand. "But when she does, it's beautiful."
"That's okay, I'm sure we'll manage. Mr. Masters if you'll take a seat here in the waiting room, I'll check her over and see how she's doing."
"I'm afraid that isn't going to work out."
"And why is that?"
"Very simply," I answered with a chuckle, “She won't let go of me."
"It's most unusual for a man to be present when I'm examining a girl ..."
"That's all right; Samantha is an unusual little girl." I smiled and gave her hand another little squeeze. "Isn't that right, Sweetheart?"
Samantha looked up, smiled and nodded.
"Very well, I guess we can accommodate her wishes. Let's see how she's doing."
Dr. Raspberry led us into a large examination room where I undid the buttons on Samantha's dress, then rotated a chair around and sat with my back to them. I heard the rustling of fabric as her dress and slip were removed.
Dr. Raspberry giggled, "Mr. Masters, I see what you mean about Samantha being an unusual little girl. I guess you don't really have to face the wall. You could have said something.”
"I assumed that Rachael would have given you the details when she made the appointment," I replied with a smile.
The exam continued without any additional surprises. As suspected, Samantha was dehydrated and malnourished. She received a full round of immunizations. We also received more instructions as to her dietary needs.
As we bid farewell to Dr. Raspberry, thanking her for her help and kindness, Samantha thanked her with a hug.
"Well, Samantha, do you want to stay in Los Angeles any longer, or should we go home?” I asked once we were back at the hotel.
Her reply was to give me a hug and whisper, "Go home."
I quickly packed, and took everything out to the car. She followed me back and forth, all the while hugging her teddy. Soon we were on our way. The trip back didn't seem to take as long as it had driving to LA. I guess it was the company. I'd only known Samantha for twenty-four hours, but I couldn't imagine my life without her in it. I didn't know what would happen when we got home, but somehow I had to keep this small bundle of joy in my life.
We pulled into Idaho Falls about midnight. Not wanting to wake anyone, we went to my apartment. I fixed a bed on the couch for Samantha and tucked her in, even though I suspected she wouldn't stay there. I was right. Several hours later that I was awakened by the motion of her crawling into my bed. With a smile, I wrapped a protective arm around her and went back to sleep.
We slept late. After getting ready and having breakfast, we went to the office to see Dad. We exchanged greetings, and then turned our attention to Samantha. "So this is the little one that has caused such a fuss. It's a pleasure to meet you, Samantha. I can see what Greg meant when he said you are a charmer. I guess the next question is; what do we do with you?"
"Dad, what do you mean?"
"What I mean is; where is she going to stay? Who is going to take care of her?"
"Actually, Dad, I've been thinking about that. Being that she doesn't trust anyone except me, she will be staying with me. She’s also on a special diet to gradually bring her weight up to where it should be. There is also her need for a psychiatrist. If you haven't noticed she doesn't talk much."
"I was noticing that she's rather quiet. However, you can't have a little girl staying with you in that oversized bachelor pad of yours. What will your neighbors say? Besides, if I remember correctly, that's an adult only complex."
"First off, I don't care what the neighbors say. Second, you're right about the complex being an adult community. I guess I'll have to start looking for a new apartment right away. As for me taking care of a little girl, don’t worry. Remember, I told you she's like Aunt June. So taking care of her won't be an issue. Now, as for taking her to see Aunt June, I'm sure we don't want Aunt June to see Samantha in her present condition."
"I agree with you there. How long do you think it will take before she's ready to see June?"
"I'm not sure about that, but my hope is to introduce them to each other just after Thanksgiving."
"Greg? That’s only three weeks away. Do you think she’ll be ready that soon?"
"I'm thinking that it will be mutually therapeutic. Samantha needs to know that she's loved, has a family, and that people care about her. As for Aunt June, her condition seems to be deteriorating rapidly. From my phone conversations with her, she seems depressed, and has given up. I’m hoping that having Samantha with her will help lift her spirits during the time she has left. I don't want to delay their meeting too long, if you know what I mean?"
"I can see that we agree on that point. As for you finding a new apartment, that part I don't agree with."
"Dad, what are you suggesting?"
"Being that I'm June’s lawyer, I think I can arrange for you two to stay out at the Hunter estate.”
“Dad, that place is huge! What will the two of us do out there?”
“Well, the staff is still there, so everything is in order. The cook can take care of Samantha’s needs. We can arrange for the psychiatrist to come out there. When Samantha’s ready, you can take her to see June.”
“That would be great. How soon do you think we could set that up?”
“I’ll make a couple of calls and I should have everything arranged later this afternoon.”
“Thanks, Dad. Samantha and I will wait in my office.”
While we were waiting, I called Rachael, who gave me the number for a colleague of hers, Martha Summers. It wasn’t long before Dad called informing me that everything had been arranged. We left the office, and retrieved all of Samantha’s things from my apartment, along with some of mine.
We stopped to see Martha before heading out to the Hunter estate. Martha, after hearing Samantha’s story, was more than willing to help her, and even agreed to come to see her at the estate twice weekly.
The staff at the estate consisted of a groundskeeper, Ralph, and his wife, Georgette, the housekeeper. There was also an elderly woman, Beatrice, who did the cooking. She adopted Samantha immediately, treating her as her niece, insisting that Samantha address her as Aunt Bee.
Over the next three weeks Samantha made remarkable progress. Her weight was still low but her refusal to talk almost disappeared, although she was still shy and reserved around people she didn’t know. The bond between the two of us had grown beyond belief. I’d only known this kind of a loving relationship once before.
When Thanksgiving was two days away, I felt that Samantha was ready. The only question was how and where to do the introductions. After discussing it with Dad, and Aunt June’s doctors it was decided.
Aunt Bee prepared a delightful meal for seven. Dad checked Aunt June out of the hospital for the day. She was delighted to be out of the hospital, even if only for a few hours. Dad brought her to her home, knowing that it would probably be the last time she would see where she and her beloved husband had spent their lives. He escorted her into the grand dining room, where everything was prepared.
Aunt June was extremely happy to be home, and to be with her brother, friends, and nephew. She was seated at the head of the table, with Dad on her right and I was to his right. To Aunt June’s left was an empty seat, with by Aunt Bee, Ralph and Georgette beyond it.
After everyone was seated, Aunt June patted Dad’s hand, “Thank you, Shawn. Thank you for being my brother, for taking care of me when we were young, and for taking care of me now that we are, well ... no longer young. You’re the only one of the family to accept me for who I needed to be. My love for you is surpassed only by my love for James and Victoria. Now you’ve brought me home, with all those I love gathered around me. Thank you, Shawn.”
“June, my dear sister. As children we shared each other’s lives, and as adults we’ve shared each other’s joy and sorrow. It has been my privilege to be your brother and help you as only a brother could. Happy Thanksgiving, June.”
“Happy Thanksgiving Shawn, and to you all. Shawn, why is there an empty place at the table?”
“Well, Dear Sister, I have a little surprise for you. I know it isn’t Christmas yet, but Greg and I thought that today would be a good day to give you an early Christmas present. Greg would you go and get June’s gift?”
“Right away, Dad.”
I left the table and went to get Samantha. We quietly entered the dining room so that Aunt June couldn’t see us.
“Aunt June, I told you several months ago that Dad sent me out to find a Christmas present for someone special. Well, Aunt June, you’re that someone special. I’d like to introduce you to your Christmas present.” I moved Samantha from behind Aunt June’s chair to stand next to her.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Samantha said timidly, not sure how she would be received.
Aunt June was speechless. After a moment she started crying as she sat there staring at Samantha. It seemed like hours before anyone moved. Aunt June picked up her napkin and wiped her eyes. Smiling she reached out her hand towards Samantha. Being just a little shy, it was several moments before Samantha placed her hand in Aunt June’s.
Aunt June finally broke the silence, “You must be Samantha. I’m so very pleased to finally meet you, my child.” Aunt June gently pulled Samantha close and gave her a hug. “I was afraid I never have the privilege of meeting you, my dear.”
I whispered into Aunt June’s ear, “Aunt June, please don’t ask about her mother! I’ll explain everything later.”
Aunt June looked up at me, her eyes full of questions. However, she complied with my request.
I helped Samantha to her seat and then I took mine. The day passed far too quickly. There was such love expressed by all that day that no one wanted the day to end, but time waits for no one.
I left Samantha with Aunt Bee as I went with Dad to take Aunt June back to the hospital. Along the way we stopped at the cemetery to see Uncle James and Victoria. While there, I explained to Aunt June everything that had taken place in Victoria’s and Samantha’s lives and the progress we’d made in getting Samantha to open up. Aunt June understood, and promised that she would help her granddaughter in any way she could.
Every day from Thanksgiving to Christmas, I took Samantha to see her grandmother. They spent hours together each day, talking, coloring, reading stories and putting together puzzles, mostly just talking. Aunt June seemed to cheer up a little each day when Samantha arrived, and seemed a little sadder each day when she left.
When Christmas day arrived Aunt June was too sick to leave the hospital, so we took our Christmas celebration to her. We took a small-lighted tree, Aunt Bee’s wonderful Christmas dinner and a gift that Samantha had for her Grandma June.
Dad met us at the hospital and we spent Christmas day together.
It was just after New Years day that Aunt June asked me to stop bringing Samantha to see her. She said that she was getting too sick, and didn’t want to be remembered that way.
The next day I tried to do as Aunt June had requested, but Samantha had her own ideas. “Come on, Uncle Greg, It’s time to go see Grandma June.”
“I don’t think we’re going to see Grandma June today, Sammie.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Well, you know that Grandma June is sick, that’s why she’s in the hospital.”
“I know that, Uncle Greg. I’ve known that since we got here. I know everyone has tried to hide it from me, but I know she has cancer.”
“How did you figure that out?”
“Uncle Greg … I am ten-years-old. I know most of what has been going on. Now take me to see Grandma June.”
“But Sweetheart, she asked me not to take you to the hospital every day.”
“WHY NOT?”
“Because she doesn’t want you to be sad, because she’s … because she’s sick.”
“Uncle Greg, take me to Grandma June right now! I don’t go to make me feel good. I go cause I help Grandma June feel good! I know she sick and some day she … she will die. But till then I want to be with her. She needs me to help her. I will talk with her and sing to her, and when she is too tired to keep her eyes open, I will read to her. Grandma June is not going to die alone in her hospital bed … like … Mommy. I know now I couldn’t help Mommy, but I can help Grandma June. She will always know that her family loves her and cares ‘bout her. Now take me to the hospital!”
“What do you know about your mother?”
“I heard you talking with Uncle Shawn. I know that Mommy died all alone. For a long time … I was mad at her. I thinked she left me ‘cuz she didn’t love me no more. Then I heard you talking about her, and about Frank. It wasn’t Mommy’s fault, what happened to her, or to me. It was Frank what treated us bad. Now, is you going to take me to Grandma June or do I have to ask Ralph to take me?”
I took her to see her Grandma June that day and every day. In the end, it was as Samantha said, she would go in, hold her grandmother’s hand, and read to her for hours on end.
Aunt June died in early March. She was buried next to Uncle James in a private ceremony. None of Dad’s family came, although they were invited. To my surprise, Elizabeth came, along with her friend Rebecca; I think Samantha had something to do with it. Secretly I was glad she did, I really needed that support that day and am so grateful that Elizabeth still cared for me that much.
Elizabeth had never married, and after the sudden turn in my life, there was nothing to stop me from asking her to marry me. She accepted on two conditions; one, that we adopt Samantha; and two, that Rebecca be allowed to live with us to help care for Samantha.
So that Christmas, three special gifts were exchanged, I gave Aunt June a granddaughter that she'd never known. Aunt June gave Samantha a home where she will never again know fear. You see, in her will, she left the entire estate to Samantha. However, I was given the most precious gift of all, love, the kind of love I hadn't felt since I ran out on Elizabeth, so many years ago. The fact that twenty-two years had passed, didn’t seem to matter to Elizabeth. The love in our home has no comparison.
[email protected]
Want to comment but don't want to open an account?
Anyone can log in as Guest Reader -- password topshelf to leave a comment.
DD Rides Again
Author:
Organizational:
Audience Rating:
DD Rides Again
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
DD Rides Again - chapter 1 (54)
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 1
(Texas Gal 54)
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
There had been a fire in the headquarters building of Piermont Paper Products, in Brandon, Vermont.
DD had just made one of the hardest decisions of her young life,
that of relocating the headquarters to Jefferson City, Mo.
They would occupy the office building that they acquired in the buyout of MoPaper.
And now, this is how I imagine the story would continue.
Chapter 1
The last time I had this much trouble sleeping was when I couldn't figure out where to find the spiral binding equipment for the MoPacs. It was the fourth night I'd spent in the Capital Plaza hotel, so I didn't think it was the unfamiliar bed. Perhaps my subconscious had finally realized that the lives and livelihoods of a couple of thousand people were resting squarely on my tiny, rounding shoulders. Whatever the reason, at 4 o'clock I found myself pacing back and forth, wearing a rut into their very plush carpeting. At 5 o'clock I showered and got ready to face another day. 6 o'clock found me in the Piermont pool-car, waiting for the first rays of sunshine to crest the horizon, so I could legally drive. It still seemed strange, not having Earl driving me around but I guess I'll get used to him not being around.
For the first time since Grandma appointed me the president of the paper division, I was the first to arrive at the headquarters building. I had woken Earl while napping in the limo on many occasions, but I didn't expect to wake the night security guard by arriving so early in the morning. He looked so contented, leaning back in the lobby receptionists’ chair with his feet propped up on something. It almost seemed a shame to wake him, except for the fact that; one, the doors were locked; two, I wanted to go up to my office; and three, he was supposed to be guarding the building. After the recent events in Vermont, to find the night watchman sleeping, caused me to be a little more than mildly upset. I rattled the glass doors until I saw some life return to the guard’s eyes. Casually he walked towards the main doors, while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
He was a big man, broad shoulders, powerful arms, huge hands, and he towered over me by at least a foot and a quarter. If I was in the market for a bodyguard he would be a likely candidate.
"You want something?" he mumbled, still half asleep.
"Yes, I want to go up to my office," I replied loudly.
"Well, who the heck are -"
I guess it took his brain a little longer to wake up, or he looked out to the parking lot and saw the Piermont car in the 'Reserved for President' spot and put two and two together.
Pulling some keys out, he quickly unlocked the doors and held one open so I could enter. "I'm sorry Miss Drake. I didn't expect to see anyone here this early."
"That was obvious," I replied. "What's your name?"
"Fisher ma'am, Brad Fisher."
"Do you always sleep while you're on duty Mr. Fisher?"
"No ma'am?"
"This is your first and last warning Mr. Fisher. Pass the word to the rest of the security team; anyone caught sleeping on duty will be terminated without any other warning. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Fisher?"
"Yes ma'am. Very clear."
I turned and headed for the elevator, undoubtedly leaving Mr. Fisher to wipe the sweat from his forehead and possibly in need of changing his pants.
I couldn't tell Mr. Fisher that the fire in Vermont was probably deliberate, but I was determined that history would not repeat itself in Jefferson City, and I would take whatever steps were needed to prevent such an occurrence.
I spent the next half hour working through some ideas and making a few notes to myself. I knew that I didn't have the knowledge to implement all of my ideas, we were going to need a professional. I didn't know where to find such a professional, but I knew that Ben would figure it out. I would chat with him later about what I wanted. In the meantime, I returned to the building blueprints and marked out a large section of unused space on the first floor and labeled it SECURITY OFFICE.
I was working on the housing problem when Bob called and asked if he could come over. I fixed myself another cup of tea while I waited.
"I still can't get over this convention hall that Roy called an office," Bob said as he crossed to join me in my casual area. "What are you going to do with all this space?"
"Well, I was thinking of pushing things around a bit and putting in a potter’s wheel. Do you think the pulp furnaces get hot enough to fire pottery?"
Bob was sitting down as I asked about the pulp furnace; he paused in mid sit and looked at me. I'm sure he was trying to figure out if I was being serious or if I was pulling his leg. After he finished sitting he shook his head and said, "You know boss, I've seen you in action so many times and I still can't tell when you're bluffing or when you're holding a royal flush."
"Good, if you can't tell neither can anyone else," I said, with a big smile.
"So, what brings you in so early? In four years, this is the first time you've beaten me to the office."
"Well, it's a about time I got in at a reasonable hour, don't you think? Besides, I couldn't sleep for some reason, so I thought I'd try and get the housing sorted out. If my coming in at 6:30 becomes a habit, I think I'm going to need some keys to the building."
"Didn't the security guard let you in?"
"Oh yes, he let me in - after I woke him up."
"Woke him up?"
"Indeed, he was reclining in the receptionist’s chair, dead to the world. Of course, that was before I started rattling the front doors. He was more than a foot taller than me when he unlocked the doors, but I think he shrank two feet while I chewed him out."
"You fired him?"
"No, but I probably should have. I'm sure we won't have any problem with Mr. Fisher sleeping on the job again, and I'm quite certain he'll pass the word that sleeping on duty won't be tolerated, by anyone in that department."
"Okay, if that's how you want to handle it, you're the boss. What have you decided on the housing?"
"I think for now we should stay away from the furnished apartments, they all require a six month lease, or more. The thirty-three temps probably won't be here that long and those relocating will be looking for permanent housing long before a lease expires."
"I was kind of thinking along the same lines, so we'll need thirty-three hotel rooms. Did we locate enough that were suitable?"
"Forty-one actually. You're forgetting the six who are transferring down, along with Ben and Tom. Almost everyone should be here by the end of the week."
"You're right. We should probably round it up to an even forty-five rooms, to account for the ‘just in case factor’."
"Good point. We can negotiate for forty-five, but I don't want to rent them until we need them. I'll call Ben to find out how many are flying out tomorrow, and how many are driving and when they are planning to leave Vermont. Speaking of people coming from Vermont, I was thinking about Nancy and Ellen while I couldn't sleep. Nancy has been with the company from the beginning and would therefore have more seniority. So I was thinking, why don't you make her the offer and let her decided which job she wants."
"Which job? How many jobs are available?"
"Let me see, she could be your personal secretary now, or she could remain the executive suites receptionist. If she remains the executive suites receptionist, then in about a year she could choose between remaining as the executive suites receptionist or she could move into my outer office as my personal secretary, after I finish my post graduate work."
"Well, I hope Ellen has excellent skills, because I think she'll be my new secretary. At least if I was Nancy, there wouldn't be any question. Work for me and my day to day running of the business, or try to keep up with you and all of your excited, hair brained schemes and ideas. Me, I'd take hair brained excitement any day of the week."
I couldn't help myself as I started teasing, "Oh, is that what it takes to be successful in this business, more hair? You know, if you let your hair grow out we could put a little curl at the bottom like Marlow Thomas, find you the right dress, a little makeup -"
Holding up both hands and waving, Bob interrupted, "That's okay boss, that's okay. I'll leave the hair, makeup, and dresses to you. Besides, I wouldn't want to scare my kids."
"Oh, all right, if you're sure." I tried to sound disappointed, but I think my giggle spoke louder and he knew I was kidding.
Looking at his watch, Bob tactfully changed the subject, "I picked up Greg Lissum late last night at the airport, and got him checked into the Capitol Plaza. According to him, the first truck should be here before noon. He should be awake by now, so I'll go get him and bring him back here. Should we arrange for some more Piermont cars to be brought to JC or should we get a bunch of rentals?"
"That's fantastic, I'm glad that Greg is here and that the first truck could be here so fast. The sooner our records are securely stored downstairs, the sooner we can all relax a little. I arranged for an additional ten rooms at the plaza, last night. When you go to pick up Greg, tell the clerk at the front desk to subtract Greg's room from the ten reserved by Piermont. As far as transportation goes, do we have any more Piermont cars in the area?"
"Not that I know of. There were only four cars shared between the offices and the plant. We won't need as many in Brandon with the headquarters moving down here, some of those can be brought down."
"We should probably leave the keys for the company cars at the front desk, so they can be better utilized throughout the day. We'll have someone at the front desk check cars in and out, and keep track of who has what. I don't want to rent a fleet of cars until we have a better picture of what we'll need. It might turn out that a large van or two would work out better. We'll just have to play it by ear for now."
"I hadn't thought of vans, but that makes sense for groups that come and go at the same time. We may need to do something different on the weekends so people can do their own thing, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I'll go get Greg and show him the layout of the building. I'll see you later . . . then we can go over the possible acquisition folder, it is Monday morning."
I could see that Bob was trying to look serious, but he just couldn't hide the little grin that crept onto his face. After a moment I asked, "Now who's working on their poker face?"
"All right, you win. You have the best poker face," Bob conceded, as he left.
I had Bob take the keys for the car I was driving, down to security; so someone else could use it, while I didn't need it. Needing a little break, I went to see if Ellen was in. She was, so I described what I wanted and had her make a simple form for keeping track of who has what car. She would take it down to security when it was ready.
My next order of business was to call Ian Thorehill, over at the plant, to see how many of the temporary workers at the plant were using rental cars. I asked him to ask around and see how many would be willing to carpool, thereby freeing up some cars to be used by headquarters personal. After that was done, it was time to call Ben.
"Good morning Ben."
"DD? You're up early."
"Bob said the same thing. He was surprised to find that I was in the office before he was. What I'm calling about is the list of those who are flying out tomorrow and who are driving. We're still working on housing, which should be finalized today, but the question of transportation came up, so I've started looking at those options. Getting the list from you will really help in that area. I know you won't have it put together right now, but as soon as you have it, I'd like it sent down to the sales office here, via the telex. I'll alert them that it's coming and arrange to have someone bring it upstairs when it arrives."
"No problem DD, in fact I'm just about finished with those arrangements. As we were signing people up last Friday, I started collecting that information. Obviously, those driving down will have their own cars. Those that are flying will need transportation, but how many are able to carpool, once they get there, will depend on job similarities and housing."
"Exactly. We'll do our best to work everything out at this end, before our people start arriving. Please tell everyone that is driving down, to come directly to the headquarters building and we'll give them directions to the hotels from here."
"No problem, I've already told them to stop by my temporary office before they head down. I've arranged to advance them money for gas, as I indicated, equivalent to what the flight would have cost."
"That's terrific Ben. Look, I know that you have your hands full right now, but I'd like you to start thinking about a couple of things. "
"You just say the word DD and I'll add it to the list.”
"Thanks Ben. First off, I'd like you to start looking for a new position, someone who is up on all the latest security systems, public, private, and even military. Retired secret service, FBI, CIA, military Special Forces, something along those lines. Of course, if any of our existing security people are qualified, that would be great. The position will be Piermont Chief of Security."
"Military, FBI, are you planning on starting a war?"
"Start a war, never, but if we have to, we'll finish one. Not to mention that if the fire was arson, as we suspect, I'm not about to give anyone a second chance. Second, I want you to start hiring additional security personal."
"How many more are you thinking?"
"I want to double the security at all of our office buildings and have 50% more at all of our plants."
"DD, do you know how many people you're talking about?"
"I have a rough idea, but like I said, I don't intend on giving anyone an opportunity to hit us like this again."
"Whatever you say DD, you're the boss."
"Thanks Ben, I really appreciate all of your hard work. I'll be watching for that list. Do you have any idea when you'll be coming down here?"
"It won't be until late in the week, perhaps not until next week. We’re still working on temporary offices for our plant and regional office needs."
"Of course, of course. Listen, along those lines, set up enough office space for Matt, his sales staff, and his graphic design people. We have a sales staff at each of the other regional offices, so there's no reason not to have sales staff working out of Brandon."
"I figured on offices for a sales staff, but why the graphic design folks? Shouldn't that operation be moved to JC?"
"One thing at a time. The most important thing right now is to get data processing and accounting up and running. Once we have A/R money coming in and A/P's going out, we can work on the other areas."
"I guess that makes sense. It means I may need to stay here another day or two. "
"I understand, get here as soon as things are settled in Brandon so we can start building our headquarters staff here."
"Will do, DD."
"Good bye Ben."
"Good bye."
The next order of business was to dig a phone number out of my purse that I've only called once before.
"Wells Investigation."
"Mr. Morris Wells please, Darla Anne Drake calling," I replied.
"One moment Miss Drake."
"Miss Drake, I've been trying to reach you."
"I thought you might have been. I'm guessing you've heard about our little B-B-Q."
"B-B-Q? I guess that's one way to look at it. Yes I heard about an incident at your headquarters building in Brandon. In fact it made the front page of the Sunday morning newspaper, here in Boston."
"The front page and Sunday morning, my, my, news travels fast in the Northeast, very fast indeed; or the paper had an informant. Tell me Mr. Wells, have you heard anything interesting from your operative at South-Core; other than they probably had a week long party, because of our misfortune."
"Anything interesting? Are you thinking that someone at South-Core might have been responsible for the fire?"
"The local fire chief did call in the arson investigation unit from Montpellier, the Vermont state capital. They haven't released their report as yet, but I think it’s safe to say the fire was deliberately set."
"I see. No, we haven't heard anything that would make us believe that South-Core had arranged for someone to torch your Headquarters building. That doesn't necessarily mean they did or didn't, just that we haven't heard anything."
"I understand. South-Core is one of the top two suspects on my list."
"Who is the other, if I might ask?"
"Robert De Forrest - of Alliance Paper. Their Headquarters is in Spokane, Washington. You don't happen to know someone out there who could provide me the same service you're providing?"
"I may know some people on the Pacific Coast that might be able to help you. Let me make a few phone calls and I'll get back to you."
"Fair enough. Have you heard any more about the spy that South-Core planted in Piermont, a name perhaps?"
"I'm sorry to say that we haven't uncovered their identity."
"Hum, that's too bad, I was hoping that something was going to be easy this week. I don't believe we've seen the last of South-Core and I don't think Stanley Broward would let go of what he probably believes to be his ace in the hole. However, based on that assumption I think we can narrow the field to one out of thirty-nine instead of one out of one hundred twenty-eight."
"I'm not sure I understand, Miss Drake."
"It's quite simple, of the one hundred twenty-eight employees that comprised our headquarters staff in Brandon, only six have requested to be transferred permanently to the new headquarters building, in Jefferson City, Missouri. Another thirty-three have agreed to temporarily assist with getting the company back on its feet. Some of those may decide to stay on after they get to know Jefferson City a little better. I'm betting our spy is one of those thirty-nine."
"So how can I help?"
"Do you have a fax machine in your office?"
"Yes."
"We didn't have one in Brandon, but we do here. It looks like an interesting method for sending information. Anyway, when I get the list from our VP of Personnel, I'll send it to you. I'd like you to do a background check on each individual, going back, oh let’s say ten years."
"That could take some time."
"Well, we've been trying to figure out who this person is for almost two years, what's a little more time."
"As you wish, Miss Drake."
Mr. Wells gave me the phone number to use for his fax machine and I gave him the numbers for the headquarters building in JC, then we hung up. Next on the agenda, I needed to call three of the better hotels and reserved a block of ten rooms at each. I had the phone in my hand when I realized, without Ben's list, I didn't know how many on what day. Setting the phone down I realized - I had nothing to do. I didn't even have any trade magazines to read.
The problem with having nothing to do is your mind starts to wander. I thought about my family and how everyone has started going different directions. I thought about my extended family at Brandon and how we've been brutally torn apart. I thought about the thousands of people who were depending on me to keep this company together, so they'd have employment. I thought about calling Grandma to see how she deals with the stress that goes with responsibility of corporate management.
After wallowing in feelings of guilt, remorse, self-doubt, and general sorrow, for about two minutes, I shook my head vigorously and left my cavernous office and went to bother Ellen. I wouldn't normally bother the receptionist, but I figured since she and I were the only two on the fourth floor and I hadn't given her any work to do, she was probably as bored as I was.
"Hello Ellen," I greeted.
"Hello Miss Drake. Is there something I can do for you?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. Would you show me how to run the fax machine, you've got behind you?"
"I'll be happy to take care of anything you need sent, Miss Drake."
Holding out my empty hands, “I'm sure you would, but I don't have anything right now. We didn't have a fax machine in Brandon and I'd just like to know how the system works."
Ellen still seemed a bit confused by my request. However, she taught me everything there was to know about the fax machine, where the blank cover letters were stored, and to wait for the confirmation report to print out. I thanked her for the education and then took the elevator to the first floor
"Might I inquire as to who is in a position of authority in this office?" I asked in general, as I arrived in the sales offices.
Everyone looked around for a few moments, appearing to be in shock that I was even speaking to them in the first place. Eventually, a woman stood, “I guess that would be me Miss Drake. I'm not in management or anything, but I've been here the longest. My name is Rebecca, Miss Drake. Rebecca Wheeler, but most everyone calls me Becky. Is there something I can do for you?"
"It's nice to meet you Becky. I'm sure in time we'll all get to know one another. I'm waiting for a list of names from Ben Phillips. He'll be sending it down from Brandon via the telex. If someone could bring the list upstairs as soon as it comes in, it would be most appreciated."
"No program Miss Drake, I'll get it up to you as soon as it comes in," Becky replied cheerfully.
"Thank you, Becky."
I went back to the elevator and it was ascending when I realized I again had nothing to do. The doors opened and I nodded at Ellen as I passed, when I had a sudden thought. Turning back I asked "Ellen, is there a library of any kind in the building?"
"Library?"
"Yes, library. A place where books on a variety of subjects are stored and available for anyone to read. You do know what books are?"
Ellen giggled for a moment before replying, "Yes, Miss Drake, I know what books are. I'm sorry but we don't have a library in the building. There are usually some current magazines in the employee cafeteria, on the first floor, but I'm afraid that's about it."
"Oh well, I guess we'll just have to build one. Ellen, were going to have about forty people from Brandon arriving in the next few days. Would you put together about fifty information packets?"
"I'd be happy to, but what kind of information were you thinking of?"
"I'd start off with a large fold out map of the city, like the maps they have at the Texaco gas stations. Then check with the chamber of commerce, or visitor information, for information about the city and surrounding areas. Points of interest, places to visit, things to see, recommended restaurants, unusual eateries, whatever they have. Oh, also include information about the various religious denominations in the area. Add anything else you can think of that would help our people get to know the area."
"After I have them assembled, where would you like me to put them?"
"Why don't you keep them here, behind your desk. Tomorrow you can pass them out during the orientation meeting, in the first floor conference room."
"You want me to help with an orientation?"
"Is that a problem?"
"No ma'am, no problem at all. It's just a little unexpected. I've never been asked to do anything like that before."
I was still talking with Ellen when the elevator doors opened and Becky stepped out.
"Hello again Becky," I greeted.
“Hello Miss Drake. Here's the telex you were waiting for." she replied.
"Terrific. Thank you for bringing it up so quickly, Becky. Now I've got to get to work and arrange for hotel rooms for everyone."
"Oh, I can take care of that Miss Drake," Ellen cheerfully volunteered.
I was going to thank Ellen for her offer and go to my office to finish what I'd started, when I remembered the difference in our two positions. My job was to make a mess, stir up the hornets, and solve the problems that nobody else could. Ellen's job was to manage the paperwork, make the phone calls, and help clean up the messes that I make.
Smiling I answered, "Thank you, Ellen. I've already arranged for a tentative block of rooms at several hotels. Come to my office and I'll get you that information." I continued as we walked. "I'll also show you how I want to group them by jobs and arrival dates. When you’re done I'd like a separate page for each of the four hotels, indicating who will be staying at each, what room number they're in, and arrival dates. Make four copies of each, one for me, one for Mr. Warren, one for Mr. Phillips, and one for you."
"One for me?" she questioned.
"But of course, you're going to be helping tomorrow and Wednesday in handing out the room assignments and the information packets. You might as well have a copy of the list. After you've got the list organized, call the hotels and make the reservations. I'd also like a single sheet with just a typed list of the names. After the reservations have been arranged and you’re working on the information packets, if it would be easier for you to personally collect the information, then by all means do so. Take one of the company cars; it will do a little advertising by driving the Piermont car around. It will start to show people that Piermont is in town to stay."
Twenty minutes later, Ellen had all the hotel information organized. She was back in my office with a preliminary hotel organization lists and my single sheet of the thirty-nine names. I took my sheet and approved the hotel organization so she could call and make the reservations.
Well, there I was again; just passed 9:00 and I still had nothing to do.
Just after ten, Ellen brought in the room assignment lists. She'd made the reservations at the four hotels, had contacted the visitors’ information center, and was ready to go collect the supplies for the information packets. About ten minutes after Ellen had left I took the single sheet of names and faxed them to Mr. Wells. About eleven Bob called and asked if I knew where Ellen was. I confessed to having sent her on an errand and I invited Bob to take me out to lunch, being that I was also without a car. When we returned Ellen was at her usual place, eager to show me the information she'd collected.
I left the office early Monday afternoon; I had a list of places to go as I was in search of a book. Stopping at several bookstores I purchased a dozen books. I also ordered almost a hundred books on subjects that encompassed all facets of Ameri-Moore's operations. They would be delivered to the office building as soon as the bookstores receive them.
Tuesday morning, Bob and I discussed the status of the records going into the basement vault and how they were being organized. We also discussed the status of the Whorton purchase, as well as my desire to put in a library. The paperwork for the purchase of Whorton had been in the hands of the attorneys at the time of the fire, so at least that wasn't lost. There was a small problem with the plant in Louisiana; it seems that a section of the parking lot, that everyone assumed was owned by Whorton, actually belonged to the neighboring property owner. It was decided to let Hollis Homes work out the problem with the neighbor before we would close the deal.
Roy had built such a massive building that we were going to have several empty offices adjacent to the executive suites, Bob and I decided to use one of those empty offices for a corporate library. Bob would make arrangements for some quality bookcases once the books I'd ordered started arriving.
Tuesday afternoon, Bob, Bill, Ellen, and I were waiting in the conference room when security informed us that the chartered bus had arrived from the airport, with twenty-two of our headquarters staff. Bob and I went out to meet the bus in the parking lot. When the doors opened I went aboard and used the onboard PA system.
"Hello everyone. Welcome to Jefferson City. If everyone will please follow Mr. Warren and me to the first floor conference room, we'll get you your hotel and room assignments. Your luggage and the rest of your personal items will be fine here. After a brief orientation, the bus will take everyone to their hotels. So if you'll come inside, we'll get started." I handed the microphone to the driver and stepped down.
Back in the conference room, the room assignments were quickly distributed and the information packets were handed out. Bill took the accountants on a tour of the building. Bob did the same for the DP folks. After their tours, everyone met back in the conference room where meal information was distributed. Everyone seemed happy with the arrangements as they returned to the bus for the trip to their hotels.
Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday, with the exception that our people straggled in, in groups of three's and five's. By Wednesday evening, everyone was accounted for, no one had gotten lost and fortunately there had been no accidents.
Bob talked with Nancy Wednesday afternoon, as he suspected she was willing to remain the executive suites receptionist for a year with the option of becoming my personal secretary after I finish with school.
Before Nancy left Wednesday evening, I asked her to personally get in touch with each member of the executive staff and inform them that there would be a regular Friday meetings and I wanted everyone there. Bob would make the necessary travel arrangements. Even though we were surrounded by chaos, I felt it was important to restore order within our upper management team. I knew that the proper attitude and an optimistic outlook at the upper levels would be contagious and it would filter all the way down to the most recently hired employees.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 2
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
TG Elements:
Permission:
Chapter 2
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Chapter 2
Thursday morning, as I was on my way to the office, I found myself following several large trucks bearing the large blue IBM logo. As we got closer and closer to the headquarters building my excitement grew and grew. As they pulled into our parking lot I knew that our long awaited computer had arrived. The caravan of trucks stopped and I pulled around them. As I was nearing my parking space I realized I wasn't going to be able to park there at the moment, the lead truck was blocking my way. As I pulled up beside the lead truck a man was climbing down from the passenger side with clipboard.
"May I help you?" I asked, as I stepped out of my car.
"We have a delivery for Piermont Paper, but I'm not sure we’re in the right place."
"Oh yes, you're definitely in the right place," I said excitedly. "I was hoping that was for us. If you'll follow me I'll show you where you can unload."
"And just who might you be?" he asked suspiciously.
"I'm Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper." I replied confidently.
"Yes Miss Drake. Where would you like us to unload?"
"There's a loading dock in back and a freight elevator that will take you to the computer center, in the basement."
"Yes ma'am." he said, as he climbed back into his truck.
I slid back into my car and lead the way around the building. Parking off to the side, I climbed the steps to the door next to the loading dock. Opening a small door I picked up the phone and dialed a number that would set things in motion.
"Good morning, Bob, great news our computer is here."
"What do you mean our computer is here?"
"I followed a convoy of IBM trucks in from the hotel. I spoke with one of them in the parking lot and then led them around back."
"Around back? Are you at the loading dock?"
"Yes, the first truck is backing in now."
"Terrific, I'll notify Stan and we'll be right down. I'll call security and have them open the roll up door."
"Great, I'll see you in a couple of minutes."
The gentlemen from the first truck were just climbing the steps to the loading dock platform when the large door started to move. As the door rolled up I could make out the feet and legs of one of our very large security men.
Behind me I could hear the gentlemen from IBM talking softy. "You're telling me that, that little girl said she's the company president?" The older man asked the man I spoke with earlier, as I turned around.
"I haven't been called a little girl for quite some time, I am 17."
"17, and you are the president of the company?"
"Yes she is! You got a problem with that?" said a male voice from behind me. From the angle on the voice projection I could tell that he was much taller than I am.
"Ah, No . . . No, I don't have a problem with that," the driver from IBM replied, as I was turning to learn the identity of my defender.
As I turned I was face to chest with someone in a dark brown security uniform, a little bit of an intimidating feeling to be sure. Looking up into the face that towered above me, I smiled. "Well, Mr. Fisher, good to see you again."
"Good morning Miss Drake."
Just then a very excited Stan Clark appeared, rubbing his hands together. "Excellent, excellent. Come on, come on, come on. Let’s not stand around waiting for the grass to grow. Who's in charge here? Good morning Miss Drake. Move, move, move, let’s get this truck opened and start unloading. We have lots to do."
Bob appeared at that moment and I asked him, "Is Stan always that hyper"
"Not always, just when he has new toys to play with," Bob replied with a grin.
Bob and I were walking towards the regular elevators when I remembered my car. Turning back and digging in my purse, I handed the keys to Mr. Fisher. "After everything is unload and you've closed the dock door, would you take my car around to the front and leave the keys with whoever is manning the front desk?"
"Yes ma'am. I'd be happy to."
"Thank you."
"About how long will it take to get the system up and running" I asked Bob, as the elevator started ascending.
"I've only been around for one other computer installation; that was the one in Brandon. However, using that as an example, it should take three days to get everything unloaded, put in place, and wire all the components together. After that, the engineers from IBM will take a couple of days for testing, to verify proper operation and that nothing unexpected happened during transport. Then they will help our people load our applications, then the testing phase will start all over again."
"Do the guys from IBM work weekends?"
"Giving the urgency of the situation, I think we can arrange that."
"So that would have us back on line and ready for business, a week from tomorrow or the following Monday. That would make it only three weeks that we will have been down. How long will it take to get everything caught up, do you think?"
"You'd have to ask Bill that question."
Bob and I went to our respective offices, knowing that Stan had all matters pertaining to the computer well in hand.
About ten o'clock Nancy called, with a call from Ron Collins
"Hi Ron, what can I do for you?"
"Actually DD, I was hoping I could do something for you. Have you made plans for lunch?"
"No, no I haven't."
"Great. Don't worry about a thing; I'll take care of everything. I'll see you around noon."
"Okay Ron, I'll see you at noon."
That sounded suspiciously like a conversation I had about four years ago with Matt Piermont. Matt had been selling himself and was looking for a job. I wondered what Ron could be selling? I guessed I’d find out at the appointed time.
Just before noon, Nancy called to say that Ron Collins and Bob Warren were waiting to see me. I told her to send them in.
"I asked Bob to join us for lunch, I hope you don't mind?" Ron asked, as he entered, followed by Bob.
I wasn't sure what they were selling, but my guess was they had planned one heck of a sales pitch. "Not at all, the more the merrier. Welcome Bob. So, what's on the menu?" I ask, as I crossed to the conference table.
Both Bob and Ron were carrying large brown paper bags and headed for the kitchen. Bob came out with wine glasses, linen napkins and silverware for three. He quickly set them around one end of the conference table. Ron came out with a hand towel over one arm, pulled out the chair at the head of the table and asked, "May I seat you Miss President?"
Right there, I knew they had been talking with Matt. I didn't know if Matt was directly involved with what was sure to be an elaborate sales pitch or if he was just a source of information. Deciding to enjoy the show and see where it led, I graciously accepted Ron's offer and sat as he slid the chair in. Bob had disappeared into the kitchen and Ron quickly followed.
Ron came back moments later with a dinner plate, which he placed in front of me. "Here we are Madame President, a selection of your favorites, a six ounce steak, seared on the outside while still mooing on the inside, lobster from Maine, with melted butter and light on the garlic, seasoned rice, and a blend of broccoli and cauliflower steamed to perfection."
I hadn't noticed Bob's return, but there he was with what appeared to be a bottle of wine. "Would Madame care to sample our vintage, three week old wine?"
"Three week old?" I questioned with a giggle. Bob presented me with the bottle. The label read;
Special Vintage
For
Miss Darla Anne Drake
Bottled June 10, 1972
100% Pure Grape Juice
"Yes ma'am, the management felt that anything that had aged any longer would be inappropriate."
"Under the circumstances, I would have to agree," I replied, with a little chuckle.
After Bob poured the, ah, wine I told them, "All right you two! Get your plates and sit down, I have no intention of eating alone."
As we ate we talked about nothing important. Ron told us about his house in Asheville. Bob talked about what type of house he was looking for in JC. I told them about the classes I'd be taking, when I returned to school in the fall. All in all, it was a very nice non-business, business lunch. After we had concluded our meal, I looked at Bob, then at Ron, then back to Bob.
"All right gentlemen, I've been wined and dined, now what's the sales pitch?"
Bob looked at Ron and said, "I told you she'd know in a second what we were up to."
"You did, but it was still a good idea," Ron replied.
"Is someone going to tell me what's going on?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, folding my hands in my lap.
Bob also sat back, giving Ron the go ahead.
"For months I've been trying to come up with a way of making the plants we've got shuttered profitable. Unfortunately, I haven't had much success; that is until just after our last meeting, when I realized I was going about it in the wrong way. It wasn't the fact that I was trying to come up with a new product to run, that was wrong, it was the realization of what we do that changed my thinking."
"And what was this change of thinking, Ron?"
"Let me ask you a question, DD. What do we do?"
"What do you mean, what do we do? We make paper."
"Yes, we make paper and we make things out of paper. But in a more basic concept, what do we do with the raw materials?"
"I'm not sure I'm following you, Ron."
"We add value to them. We take the raw materials, wood, cloth, and chemicals, and we add value to them. It's the value that we've added, converting the raw materials into the finished product, which attracts customers and entices the customers to purchase our products."
"Okay, I think I understand where you're headed, please continue."
"Right, so the more value we can add, versus the cost of adding the value, the greater our profit margin, and the more value we can add the more customers we can attract."
"That's a different way of looking at it, but I'm with you so far."
"So instead of looking for different or new products to run, I started thinking about what do we do to add more value to the paper we already make? We add value to the paper when we cut and wrap it, when we color it and package it, and when we turn the paper into something else - like bags and boxes."
"But we just installed boxing and bagging equipment in Houston."
"The equipment has arrived in Houston, but it hasn't been installed yet. I talked Bob into holding off, until we had a chance to talk. We'd planned to talk with you two weeks ago, but we've been somewhat distracted the last couple of weeks."
"Yes, I'd say we've been more than a little distracted. So, how long did it take you to sell Bob on this idea?" I asked, as I looked at Bob.
"I just thought the idea had enough merit for more consideration," Bob explained.
"Okay Ron, let’s have the rest of the proposal."
"Right. I remembered what Tom had said about not having a rail spur at the Houston plant and therefore transportation costs would be higher. So I got with Bill and we figured out what it would cost to ship paper and paper board to Houston for the box and bag operation. Then I got with Matt to find out where our current box and bag customers are located. Then it was back to Bill to figure the cost of shipping the bags and boxes from Houston to our customers, the bulk of which, right now, are along the eastern seaboard. After that, I got the production records for Henderson, Memphis, Paducah and Ridgely. It turns out that the Henderson and Memphis plants have two forming machines and they're slightly newer than the equipment in Paducah and Ridgely. I also got the production records for Greenfield and Concord. Then I started crunching the numbers. If we move the four color boxing equipment to Henderson, we'll utilize 12% of the plant’s capacity running one shift. That's one machine running bleached paper and one running paperboard and running the boxing equipment for three shifts. Adding the used single color boxing equipment the utilization goes up to 25%. We basically do the same in Memphis only with bags, one system running white paper the other running Kraft paper. With the forming equipment we have, Memphis would be at 18% utilization with the current number of bagging machines, that we have sitting in Huston. There is enough warehouse space in each plant that we can install additional boxing and bagging equipment to bring the utilization up to a full two shifts on the forming equipment, possibly three shifts. Now I know that those two plants running one shift weren't profitable, but by adding value to the paper by turning it into bags and boxes and by saving the shipping costs by having the bag and boxing equipment on site. Both plants can show an acceptable profit."
"I have two questions, Ron. First, if we fill the warehouses with equipment where do we store finished product? Second, at what point are the plants in the black?"
"To answer your first question, we don't warehouse anything at Henderson or Memphis. Everything that is ready for shipment goes directly into boxcars. When we have ten loaded boxcars we have them moved to Evansville, or Jefferson City, or some other large warehouse so that the shipping of bags and or boxes can be consolidated with other products going to the same customers, thereby reducing shipping costs a little more. As for your second question, Henderson would be at the breakeven point at 78% of one shift, on the paper forming equipment. Naturally we would need more boxing equipment and that's figuring the boxing equipment would be running two shifts. Memphis would be at breakeven at 82% on the paper forming, but we would have to increase the number of bagging machines by three times what we have. Now if I've calculated the floor space requirements correctly, we should be able to install enough boxing and bagging equipment, so that the forming equipment could run two shifts and maybe a little more. There is one other upside to this whole plan; we would be recalling furloughed employees instead of hiring new employees."
"That is the real reason you put all of this together, isn't it, to recall the furloughed employees?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Bob, what do you think?" I asked.
"Like I said, I thought the idea had enough merit to warrant further discussion. That's why I agreed to hold off on the installation of the equipment in Houston. Right now all that new equipment is sitting in the warehouse collecting dust. We need to make a decision soon."
"Very well, we'll discuss it in tomorrow’s meeting as a continuation of old business. Ron, you might want to work on your presentation a little, it could use a little condensing."
"I'll do that, DD."
"I noticed that according to how you've laid out your plan, it would reopen one plant in the Mid-West region and one in the Southeast. Why not the two plants in the Southeast."
"As I said, the plants in Henderson and Memphis have slightly newer equipment, although they are still slow and inefficient in comparison to our other plants. That being the case, I still think they would work well for bags and boxes. Paducah and Ridgely have the oldest forming machines, I think they must have come up the Mississippi with Lewis and Clark. Those machines are so labor intense that the breakeven point is a lot higher."
"I think they’re a little newer than when the Lewis and Clark expedition went through, but I see your point. Obviously your objective wasn't simply to eliminate the calls to Asheville, from all the angry laid off employees?"
"I'll have to admit that that is part of it, but if I hadn't found a way to be more than marginally profitable, I wouldn't have made the proposal at all."
"Very well presented, Ron. As I said, condense it down and we'll discuss it tomorrow. Anything else?"
Neither of them had anything more to discuss about the proposal, so we cleaned up the dishes and they both left. I was once again left with almost nothing to do. Luckily, the mail-room had sent up several items, which of course Nancy screened and brought in after Bob and Ron had left. I now had three envelopes marked personal and two trade magazines. Yippee, the end of being bored to tears.
About four o-clock, the phone rang, it was Nancy. "I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Drake, but there's a young woman down at the receptionist desk asking to see you. She says, she works for the campus newspaper at Rutgers University in Newark, New Jersey. We told her you weren't giving interviews to any reporters, but she won't leave. She claims to know you from when you lived in Newark and insists that you'll see her."
"Does this mysterious reporter have a name?" I asked.
"She gave a name, something like Gina Macaroni."
"Gina Marcoti?"
"That could be it."
"Well, I do know a Gina Marcoti, if it's her I would be pleased to see her. If it's not the Gina that I know, we wouldn't want her wandering around the building unescorted. Have someone from security escort her to the fourth floor lobby and I'll come out there to meet her."
I arrived at the elevator, just as the doors were opening. The first person I saw was one of our large security men. Almost completely blocked from view, by the security man's large frame, was a fairly tall female. As they turned, I instantly recognized my friend, Gina.
"Thank you mister . . ."
"O'Reilly ma'am. Patrick O'Reilly."
"Thank you Mr. O'Reilly, I do indeed know this person, I'll take responsible for her from here," I volunteered.
"Very good ma'am," Mr. O'Reilly replied, as he turned back into the elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, I pulled Gina into a hug. "It's so good to see you. What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I came to see you," she replied. Before releasing me from our hug she whispered in my ear, "My little one."
A dim, long forgotten, memory suddenly became as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The memory was accompanied by a warm, safe feeling.
Pulling myself together, I suggested "There's no sense standing around in the hall, let's go to my office, so we can catch up on everything."
"That sounds like a great idea, madam president."
Gina smiled, as she referred to me as madam president, which was how she addressed me the last time we were together. It was an incredible realization; it had been almost five years since we'd seen each other.
We stopped to visit with Nancy for a few minutes, after I'd introduced Gina. I opened the door to the outer office and she said it was a nice office. I explained that that office was for my personal secretary, if and when I ever needed one. I continued and opened the door to my office. Knowing the reaction of most people, the first time they enter, I stepped aside and let Gina enter first. She went in about five steps and stopped.
Gina stood still for several moments, just looking around. Her first comment was a little different, "You know, if those were stain glass windows you could call it a cathedral."
I giggled at her remark, saying, "Most people compare it to a convention hall."
"That works as well. So, may I ask what goes on here that you need such a large office?
"Now wait a minute, I didn't design this building or this office. It was acquired as part of a buyout of another company."
"Yes, Mo Paper, I read about it."
After giving Gina the nickel tour she settled onto the leather couch and invited me to join her. I don't care for the feel of the leather couch, but I joined her. As I sat down, Gina pulled me towards her. She wrapped her arms around me and my head fell to the side, resting on her shoulder. We stayed that way for several minutes; neither of us spoke or moved.
"Feel better?" Gina asked, as she helped me sit up.
I thought about it for a moment, and then replied honestly, "Yes, I actually do feel better."
"I figured as much. I called the ranch and Susan told me where to find you. You may be brilliant and the youngest corporate president in the country, but I'll just bet that none of your college courses covered stress management. My major is in psychology and I figured you needed someone to help you relieve some of the stress your under, by now it must be enormous. I'll teach you some stress relief techniques I've learned, for over worked executives, before you take me home on Sunday."
"Take you home?"
"Sure," she replied with a big smile. "After all, you do fly and you do have access to an airplane or two. I figured I'd come spend the weekend with my favorite corporate president and sweet talk her into a little plane ride."
"I'll admit I do have my pilot’s license and Piermont does own several planes. -"
"And I suppose you're going to tell me you've never gone flying just for fun," Gina interrupted.
"Yes, I mean no. I mean - yes I have gone flying just fun," I admitted.
"So, have you ever flown from Jefferson City to Newark?"
"No, I haven't flown from Jefferson City to Newark."
"So it should be a fun trip, yes?"
"I guess it could be an enjoyable flight. All right, you win, I'll fly you home Sunday afternoon," I said, while shaking my head.
"Excellent, now that transportation is all arranged tell me about your hotel room."
"Hotel? You're planning on moving in with me for the next three days?"
Gina started to gently caress my knee. "But of course, little one. Don't you want me to stay with you?" she asked, as her hand slid under my skirt, caressing as it traveled.
I grabbed for Gina's hand before things went too far. "Of course, I would be honored to have Mistress stay with me. However, we don't do this in my office."
"Why not, little one? We're alone."
"At the moment, Mistress, but you never know when that may change."
"Oh, very well, but - you're going to pay for this later. For right now, undo the top button of your blouse and sit on the end of the coffee table."
I looked at Gina rather suspiciously. I'd just explained about not doing things that might be seen as inappropriate and then she tells me to unbutton my blouse.
"Relax, I only said the top button. I’m just going to give you a little shoulder massage." She replied, to my questioning look.
True to her word, Gina slipped her hands under my blouse, from behind, and gave me a wonderful shoulder massage. I had no idea it could feel so good or that simply massaging my shoulders could release such tension. After she was finished, Gina and I spent lots of time talking, catching up on each others lives, when Bob called and asked to come over. Of course I agreed and five minutes later there was a knock on the door, announcing his arrival.
"Come in," I called out.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in conference," Bob apologized, when he saw Gina.
"It's all right, Bob. Gina is an old friend of the family," I explained. "Gina, this is Bob Warren, my Executive Vice President. Bob, this is Gina Marcoti."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Marcoti," Bob greeted and shook her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Warren," Gina replied.
"So, Bob, what can I do for you?" I asked, as Bob sat in the other overstuffed chair.
"I just wanted to bring you up to date on the travel plans for tomorrow's meeting. Jerry is hoping on a flight out of Portland and should be here this evening. The same for Gerard, out of Owosso, he’ll be here tonight. Ron came over from Asheville in the 206 yesterday and he's just staying in town. I'm leaving in about thirty minutes. I'll be taking the G1 up to Brandon to spend the night with my wife and kids. In the morning I'll collect everyone that's still in Brandon and bring them down, for the meeting."
"That's great work Bob. I know that having a meeting tomorrow, with everything in chaos, sounds a little crazy. I believe it's important for our employees to know that Piermont is strong and what better way to demonstrate that than to see their management conducting business as usual."
"I agree completely, boss. Business as usual may cost a little more until we fine tune what ‘as usual’ will be for the long term. I think that getting back to business as usual is not only important for our people, but for the industry as a whole. We need to show the world that Piermont is alive and well, not to mention that we are still a strong competitor in the paper industry."
"Exactly. I'll see you tomorrow then, Bob. Have a safe trip."
Gina and I talked for a bit after Bob left, and then we decided to do some shopping. Me, I was in the market for what I considered to be a comfortable couch, for my office. Gina was looking for what she called, relaxation aides. I found Ethan Allen, Fine Furnishings, in the phone book and was ready to head out. Gina took the phone book with us and kept looking and making notes while I drove.
I quickly worked my way down to four couches, and then I kicked off my shoes and started the testing phase of the selection process. After sitting and reclining on each, several times, I selected a couch long enough to seat four, with large wings on each end. The wings would make an acceptable back and headrest, when I was sitting lengthwise. After I made my choice, I signed paperwork and arranged for delivery, early the next morning.
After we finished at Ethan Allen, Gina navigated as I drove. In all, we stopped at four, rather out of the way, shops. I wasn't exactly sure what I was paying for, but Gina said I should trust her. I may have been a bit naive, but for some reason I did trust her. We stopped for dinner before heading back to the hotel.
"Right then, the first thing you need to do is get out of that business suit," Gina said, after we settled in, in my hotel room. "What other clothes do you have?"
"Well, I've got three other business suits."
"Won't do. Won’t do at all. You need something loose and comfortable, that doesn't restrict your movements. Possibly, something baggy. Anything like that?"
"Not really. Well, maybe my silk pajamas."
"Those will be just fine. You go change and I'll get the room ready."
I shrugged my shoulders and went to change into my pajamas. When I returned to the common area, I noticed that most of the lights were off and the coffee table had been pushed away from the couch. Gina was on the couch and invited me to join her.
"All right, this is relaxation 101, stress relief for the underage corporate executive," Gina said, with a giggle. "First I want to go over some basics. The sense of smell has a very powerful effect on the human emotional control center. Different fragrances can strongly influence your different emotions. Some fragrances can make people excited, some can influence happiness, and some can make people sick, while others can actually cause depression. However, what we're interested in is relaxation. I've selected several different incense sticks that will help induce a relaxed state. As you can see I've already put the incense sticks into the holders. The holders are ceramic and they will catch the ash as the incense burns down. The sticks will burn for about thirty minutes, which is just right for a first secession."
Gina lit the incense, one on each end of the coffee table. Then she had me sit on the floor, crossed legged, with my hands resting on my knees. Then she talked me through the processes of selecting a happy, yet calm and relaxing, memory to hold in my mind while I slowly inhaled the aroma of the incense.
"Okay, now close your eyes, breathe normally, and hold that calm relaxing memory in your mind. Just sit there and relax, calm and relaxed."
I don't know if I sat there for half an hour or half the night. At first it was hard to not think about Piermont and the current problems, but as time passed, I was able to control my thoughts, thinking about Piermont less and my calm memory more.
Eventually I heard Gina whisper, "Keep your eyes closed and give me your hands." I lifted my hands off my knees and felt Gina take them in hers.
"Keeping your eyes closed, slowly stand up. I'm here to keep you safe."
With Gina's help I slowly stood, the knees were a little stiff but not worth mentioning. I was trying to hold onto the relaxed state I was in, so I let Gina lead me where she wanted me to go.
"All right, slowly sit down," she instructed.
As I slowly sat down, I realized I was at the edge of a bed. Then Gina helped me rotate, swing my legs up, and lay back. I was so relaxed that I was putty in her hands. Slowly my hands were raised above my head and I was vaguely aware of her fumbling with my wrists. Without any warning or notice, Gina started caressing both of my breasts, through my pajamas. I don't know which was more startling, having my breasts caressed, or my eyes popping open and being face to face with two nipples.
"What's going on?" I asked.
Gina stood up and stepped back, one step. "Do you remember the last time we came to visit at your ranch; you and Susan were getting on the plane to go to Vermont? Your Grandmother had just made you president of the paper division. Do you remember what I told you?"
It took me a few moments before I could recall the events. "You hugged me and whispered in my ear 'We'll have to wait for another day' if my memory is correct."
"Very good, little one. Today - is another day."
"I thought you were teaching me how to relax and relieve stress?"
"We've finished today's lesson in Relaxation 101, and you did very well. Tomorrow we'll continue by adding relaxing sounds to go with the incense and meditation. Tonight we're going to practice a little relaxation via stimulation."
"Yes, mistress. Mistress, is that a leather corset?"
"It is indeed, little one."
"And I see that you shave your, umm -"
"Waxed. A service provided by one of my clients."
"Clients, mistress?"
"We'll discuss that later, little one."
"Yes, Mistress."
The following morning, as we were getting ready to go down for breakfast, I asked, "So, what's this about clients?"
"Well, being a psychology major has taught me a lot about human sexuality and the need that some people have to act out certain fantasies or fetishes. There are people that will pay for the privilege of being dominated, humiliated, or tortured sexually. There are even some who pay me to be their mommy and treat them like babies, including diapers and spankings. You don’t know how hard it is to find a baby style dress to fit a full grown adult."
I stared at Gina, dumbfounded by what she was telling me. "You're kidding, right?" I finally managed to say.
"Not at all. Right now I have about twenty clients. Depending on the service I provide, I charge between ten to twenty-five dollars an hour. I'm making enough to pay all my school fees and rent a small house, off campus. Most of my clients are other college students, but some are, well, older."
"That's - I don't know. I use to have dreams about being a slave, but I never considered being one for real, that is until last night. Are you going to charge me for last night?"
“No, little one. You and I have what I consider a special relationship. Now then, shall we get some breakfast?”
After breakfast, we headed back to my office. We chatted a little more about Gina’s side business and her clients. I was still shocked that there were people who needed that kind of service.
I told Gina that I would be in meetings from 10:00 that morning, through most of the afternoon. I called Ian and asked him to arrange for someone to take Gina on a tour of the Jefferson City plant.
About 9:30 Nancy called, telling me that Ian Thorehill was here to see me. Of course I told her to send him in.
“Ian, hello. You didn’t have to come over yourself,” I said, as I greeted him. “Gina, this is Ian Thorehill. He’s the plant manager of the plant here in JC. Ian, this is Gina Marcoti. A longtime friend of the Drake family.”
“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Thorehill,” Gina replied, extending her hand.
“Ian, please. And the pleasure is mine Miss Marcoti,” he responded, gently shaking her hand.
“Ian it is. Please call me Gina.”
“So Ian, are you playing hooky from your responsibilities at the plant?” I inquired
“Off course not, that plants runs so well, I’m almost not needed. Besides, you haven’t been by to see me for a while, so I thought I’d come see you. Not to mention that any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”
“Ian, are you trying to get a raise?” I jokingly asked.
“What, me trying to butter up the boss, never. Besides, she’d see right through anything so sly and mischievous. I just wanted to pass on some information regarding the conversation we had before, about the wildcat.”
I knew immediately what he was referring to, “I remember the conversation. And, the information is?”
“After some investigation I found out who the individuals were, that were pushing the issue. I called them in and calmly explained to them the facts of life. I explained that we were doing everything we can to help them and everyone else from the closed plants. They weren’t happy, but they understood our position.”
“Thanks Ian, have you passed this information to Gerard?”
“Yes, he was informed two weeks ago. Being that you and I had discussed it one on one previously, I thought it would be appropriate to inform you directly.”
“I understand, Ian, and thank you. Well, you two better be off, I’m expecting a full house at ten. Gina, here is the key to the hotel room. I understand they have a nice cafeteria at the plant. After your tour you can have lunch there, on me, I’m sure Ian will take care of you. Or if you’d prefer, I’m sure the receptionist would be happy to call you a cab to take you back into the city. Either way, I’ll see you at the hotel about 6:30.”
“No problem, Darla. Thanks for everything. I’ll see you tonight.”
Gina and I hugged briefly, as some of my executives started coming in, and then Gina and Ian left.
Once everyone was seated, I began “Welcome to the Piermont convention center.” Almost everyone chuckled at the reference to my very oversized office. “Of course, I did have someone compare it to a cathedral, just lacking some stain glass windows. However, I think we’ll call it the office of the President of Piermont Paper, I wonder how big the oval office is?” There was some more chuckling. “Because of recent events, it may be difficult to get an accurate status report from each of you, but let’s give it a go. Bob.”
“Thank you, DD. I’ll leave the reports of the regions to their respective VP’s. As for the Northeast region, I instructed each of the plant managers to continue business as usual. Until we get a handle on what customers, want what products, and when. I gave instructions to produce the most commonly requested products. As it stands right now, we’ve got paper being produced and our sales teams are doing their jobs, so orders are coming in. Our biggest problem right now is in the scheduling of shipments. We used to have forty-one people that did all the scheduling, ten for each region and one supervisor. Right now we have five doing the scheduling for the whole company. The good news is, that our new computer arrived yesterday and is currently being wired together by engineers from IBM.”
“Only five?” I asked.
“That’s all from that department that volunteered to come down, one has requested to be transferred down and the others are only temporary,” Ben added. “I tried to get a few more to come down, but they said they weren’t interested.”
“Thanks Ben. I’m sure you did your best. I think for the next several weeks you should stay here and get busy staffing our headquarters. It sounds like we need a lot of people very fast. Matt, I’m afraid that making the rest of the temporary arrangements in Brandon, will have to fall on your shoulders, for now”
“Right Boss, we’ll do our best to get everything organized,” Matt replied.
“I’m sure the rest of the reports will be about as dreary, but let’s continue, Gerard.”
I was right; the situation across the company was pretty bleak. The warehouses were filling up, but very little was being shipped out. That situation would have to change and change quickly if we were going to survive.
“Well, so that’s the status of our company. Right now it looks pretty bleak, but you know what they say about being on the bottom, there’s no place to go but up. Bill, Ben, I’m going to leave staffing and training of our shipping department in your hands. It’s going to be a tough challenge, but I have every confidence in the two of you.”
“Right, DD,” Bill said.
“We won’t let you down,” Ben added.
“Moving right along. Yesterday, Ron came to me with a proposal that would fall into the category of revisiting old business. So we’ll turn the time over to Ron.”
Ron had indeed been working on his presentation. He condensed it down to about fifteen minutes while still covering the important details. He even included some of the numbers that he used and the savings that could be realized, by consolidating the shipping from a centralized warehouse.
The notion of a centralized warehouse, spurred some additional conversation about the concept of setting up some regional warehouses as distribution centers. Product from multiple plants would be shipped in by rail, which was the most cost effective means of transportation. Trucks would be loaded and dispatched from the distribution center to the customers. The distribution centers would each cover an area so the trucks would not have to travel more than twelve hours, in any direction, to reach their destination.
It was agreed upon by all, that the concept of setting up distribution centers was a good idea, all though somewhat revolutionary, not to mention that it was something that nobody else was doing. It was agreed that we would have to wait until our current crises was well past, before we ventured into setting them up. However, each regional VP was given the go ahead to look at where such distribution centers should be located and to look at the availability of warehouse space, which also had rail service.
As for Ron’s proposal, that was also readily accepted and would be implemented. Bob would arrange for the equipment to be moved from Houston to the respective plants. As soon as we had enough new employees trained at the JC plant, the senior operators from Henderson and Memphis would be released to return to their respective home towns and plants. Initially the plants would be losing money, but we’d install additional equipment as quickly as possible, shifting volume from Greenfield and Concord as needed.
As usual, we’d worked through our catered lunch, discussing the various topics we’d covered to that point. It was just after lunch when Jerry asked for the floor.
“Go ahead Jerry. You know we aren’t that formal,” I replied.
“Well, what I have doesn’t have anything to do with what we’ve talked about, so far, and I wasn’t sure how to break in with a different subject.”
“Okay, new subject, what’s so pressing,” I asked.
“Well, over the last week and a half, I’ve had four independent, paper plant, owners call me, to ask if the rumors were true. Of course, I had to ask them what rumor they were talking about. Each one gave me the same information, almost word for word. They said, they’d been approached by representatives from Alliance, pressuring them to sell out. The representatives made the statement that they might as well sell to Alliance now, while Alliance is still willing to buy them out. The representatives told the owners outright, that Piermont wouldn’t be coming to their rescue, because Piermont is getting out of the Northwest and if they didn’t, someone will finish the job that they started.”
I closed my eyes and let my head droop just a little, as Bob asked, “They didn’t have any more information than that, just that someone will finish the job that was started?”
“They didn’t give me any more information, although I felt there was more they weren’t saying,” Jerry answered.
The chatter grew from there.
With my eyes closed, I slowly shook my head for several seconds. As the chatter died down, I could feel that all the eyes in the room had turned and were looking that the top of my head. I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head.
“Gentlemen, would you excuse me for a few minutes?” I asked, as I pushed my chair back and stood. I crossed to my leisure area, picked up the phone from the coffee table. Opening the glass door, I stepped out onto the deck.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 3
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Chapter 3
I set the phone on the table and sat down. I spent several minutes just staring off at the horizon. 'I'm going to miss the mountains of Vermont.' Reaching for the phone, I started dialing a number I knew by heart. It took two calls before I found who I wanted.
"Darla Anne, is that you?"
"Yes Grandma, it's me," I replied, albeit sadly.
"What's the matter dear, you don't sound so good."
"I've had better days," I admitted, as my eyes started watering. "You know, Grandma, there are times I wish I was still eleven years old and could climb on your lap when I needed a hug."
Grandma sounded more concerned than before, "Darla Anne, what's happened."
I dried my eyes and pulled myself together before answering, "I've just found out that Alliance was behind the fire in Brandon."
"Are you sure?"
"We're pretty sure. Their people have been trying to strong-arm some independent paper plant owners around Portland, into selling out. De Forrest's people are telling everyone that Piermont is all but finished, and that if we don't get out of the Northwest they'll finish the job."
"I'm afraid that isn't admissible in court, but it sure sounds like Bobby was behind it. What do you plan to do?"
"After I'm finished talking with you, I'll be going back into my board meeting and announce that were going to war with Alliance. That's kind of what I wanted to talk with you about."
"Go back in - where are you, exactly?"
"I'm on the deck outside my office, in Jefferson City, starring off into the horizon."
"You're on the deck outside your office, through a set of sliding glass doors, and your entire executive staff is sitting around the conference table in your office?"
"Yep, that's about the size of it. I can almost imagine what they're thinking, but right now that isn't important. Grandma, what I wanted to talk about is, after I bought the eleven plants during spring break, Piermont now owns 1,048,000 acres of timber and eight sawmills. Does the wood products division have enough available funds to make purchase of that size?"
"Hmm, I guess that depends on how much you're asking."
"I would conservatively estimate the total value being somewhere between 85 and 95 million. I'd offer it to you for 80 million."
"I tell you what, being that it's you, I'll round it to an even 100 million."
"Oh Grandma you're wonderful. Thank you."
"I'll arrange for the transfer as soon as we hang up. So, what's the next step?"
"Sunday I'll be flying to Portland with a large team. During the next week I plan on buying as many independent plants as possible. Once we figure costs at all the newsprint plants, we'll set one price for newsprint across the nation. Some plants may be running in the red, while others are in the black. As long as the overall average is positive, I think we'll be able to hold our own against Alliance. By doing that, we'll flood the market with inexpensive high quality newsprint. That is until Alliance resumes a normal price structure, at which point we'll do the same."
"I think I know the answer to this question, but I'll ask it anyway. Why are you planning all of that?"
"Because, if I back down from Alliance, it will send a message throughout the industry that I'm weak and that subsequently Ameri-Moore is weak. That simply is not the reputation you've been building for me, or for Ameri-More."
"That’s a good answer dear, a very good answer. I'll be in Portland next week, where are you staying?"
"I don't know yet, plans haven't progressed that far, but as soon as I know I'll leave word with your secretary, where I can be reached."
"That's fine dear; I'll see you sometime next week. You'd better get back to your meeting; you wouldn't want your executives thinking they're working for a crazy woman."
I laughed heartily before I replied, "It's too late for that advice, Grandma; they all know I'm crazy. The good thing is, they’re crazy too, or they would have left a long time ago. Bye Grandma, I love you."
"I love you too dear."
Getting up, I brushed off my skirt and went back inside, setting the phone back on the coffee table. Standing at the head of the conference table, I quickly scanned each of their faces. In each face I read the same thing, I was the boss and where are we going from here? I remained silent for several seconds. The tension in the air was so thick, you could almost cut it with a knife. I remained calm as I began what would commit us to a plan of action, one of two that I’d been considering for several days.
"Jerry, as soon as this meeting is over, I want you on a flight back to Portland. Over the next two days, I want you, or a very trusted member of your staff, to personally contact every independent paper manufacturer in the Northwest. Tell them that Piermont is alive and well; and that I want to meet with them personally. Arrange for someplace where we can all meet together, set it up for Monday afternoon or evening.
“Bill, figure out who to leave in charge of training the shipping department and getting them up to speed, even if it’s someone that still in Brandon. Offer them triple pay, mileage, expenses, whatever it takes and for however long it takes, to get shipping on their feet. Then, I need you and eleven of your best people in Portland Sunday evening. Five can go with Bob in one of the 206's and five more with Ron in the other 206. John, I want you and eleven of your best engineers on the G1 Sunday morning at 8:00.”
"DD, what's going on?" Bob asked, when I stopped to take a breath.
"Gentlemen, a year or so ago, a movie came out that portrayed the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, in 1941. Near the end of that movie Admiral Yamamoto made this statement, when he was praised about the success of their attack. He said 'I fear all we have done is to waken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve'." I paused for just a moment to let those words sink in.
"Now, I don't know if Admiral Yamamoto actually said that, or if it was just a movie line, at this moment it doesn't matter. As of right now, we are that sleeping giant. Not Piermont, but all of Ameri-Moore, you attack one division and the entire company will stand behind you. As of this moment gentlemen, a state of economic war exists between Piermont Paper Products and Alliance Paper International."
There was about 30 seconds, before there was another sound in the room; I assumed that each of my executives was trying to contemplate the meaning of what I'd just said.
As I finally sat down, Bob smiled and asked, "So, what's the battle plan, Admiral Drake?"
"First, while we're recovering from the bombing of our headquarters, we will launch a major offensive. We are going to buy up every independent paper manufacturer in the Northwest that we can get our hands on."
"DD, we have less than 50 million left on our line of credit," Bob interjected.
"That won't be a problem, Bob. As soon as the arrangements are completed, Ameri-Moore will transfer 100 million into our operations account. When you leave for Portland, take the deeds for all the timber lands and sawmills with you. They've just been sold to the wood products division."
"That's who you were on the phone with," Bob summarized.
"Mrs. Moore. The second part of the plan is to figure out the exact cost per ton, at each of our newsprint plants. Then we'll average the costs across the company, to determine a price for newsprint nationwide."
"What do you mean by averaging the cost of all the plants?" Bill asked.
"It means just what it sounds like it means, we'll figure the costs for each plant. Some plants have a higher cost per ton than others. Obviously the plants that still have loans, will have a higher cost, and those without a loan payment, will naturally be able to run at a lower cost. I wish more of our more efficient plants, were debt free. Once we have the cost per ton for each plant, we'll average the costs, to set our price for newsprint. The plants with a higher cost, will be operating in the red, while the plants with lower costs, will run in the black. As long as the average is in the black, we're okay. Any questions so far?"
When no questions were raised I continued, "So, with the 100 million coming from Ameri-Moore, we'll pay cash for everything we buy next week and pay off any of their outstanding debts. I'm assuming, most of those plants will be older, but the advantage of not having a loan payment, will help drive the overall costs down. After next week’s buying trip, we'll need to get the plant costs figured out as quickly as possible. Tom, Bill, that burden will rest with you and your people. Once we have the numbers, Matt's people will go to work, selling newsprint like they've never done before, no discounts, no gimmicks, just one low price and the same terms for everyone 2% 15, 1% 30, NET 45. From the Atlantic, to the Pacific, one price and one set of terms. As we continue to reduce costs, we'll adjust the price down.
"There's one more part of this plan that we all need to work on, and that's how can we reduce costs even more, without cutting quality or maintenance. Any suggestions?"
Once again we sat in silence, as each was consumed with their own thoughts.
Tom came up with the first suggestion, "What about the overseas suppliers, the one's that offered to sell us chemicals by the ship load?"
"That's the idea. Do you have a way of contacting them?" I inquired.
"I'll have to work on that. Their contact information was in my files in Brandon, but I remember enough to point me in the right direction,” Tom explained.
“Great, we’ll let you chase down those leads. Anything else?”
“DD, before considering a new supplier for chemicals, we should give our domestic suppliers a chance to sell at a lower price. After all, they have been good to us in the past, we don’t want to alienate them, do we?” Gerard pointed out.
“And what about import taxes and storage?” Ron added.
“Storage?” Jerry asked.
“Of course storage, we wouldn’t use a whole ship load every month. We’ll have to have someplace to store the ship load and then transport it to the plants as it’s needed,” Ron explained.
“Ron brought up another good point, transportation,” John added. “We’ll either have to buy a small fleet of trucks, or hire a trucking company to move the chemicals. If this is going to be a long term arrangement, we’d be better off buying a trucking firm that’s going out of business. I think it’s a given that any trucking company we hire, is going to want to make a profit and that will add even more to the cost of transportation.”
“What about using the trucks we have now?” Bill asked?
“Our trucks are almost always on the move, delivering to some of our smaller customers,” Matt replied.
“I think we all agree that there are a lot of details to work out before we commit ourselves to buying by the ship load,” I said. “That doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. I think for right now it’s a very good idea, but one that will need some more research. Any other ideas on how we can cut the cost of newsprint?”
“DD, you said plants that don’t have a loan would run at a lower cost?” John asked.
“Yes, I did. Do you have a quick way of paying off some of our plants?”
“No, but we do have a large plant that isn’t running anything right now,” John replied.
“You’re talking about Franklin?” I replied, as the cartoon character light bulb went on above my head.
“Exactly, I know its set up for bleached paper right now, but it would only take a week, maybe two, to convert those systems so they can run newsprint. Running those three machines two or three shifts a day will crank out a lot of newsprint,” John concluded.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Ron spoke up.
“And that will help with Bob’s goal of getting up to 95% utilization,” Matt added.
“Very good John. I’m sure you’d like to help with the conversions, but I need you in the Northwest next week. You can join the conversion effort after we're finished in the Northwest. Bob, after this meeting give Peter Emos a call and have his people get started on the conversion. John, I think we should send them some help, some people familiar with a newsprint operation. Call Gorham, Millinocket, and Norridgewock, have them each send one engineer to Franklin to help with the conversions.”
We talked about several other options and ideas for some time. Through most of the discussion Bob was silent, nodding from time to time, sometimes smiling, but pretty much silent. That is until I was about to wrap up the meeting.
“DD, with selling the timber lands and sawmills to Ameri-Moore our cost for wood products, be it logs or chips, is going to go up,” Bob said, surprising everyone. “There’s only one way I can see to rectify that problem and that would be for our resident wheeler–dealer to do what she does best.”
“And what would that be, Bob?”
“Make a deal," Bob said with a smile.
"Make a deal?" I questioned.
"With Mrs. Moore, to get our wood supplies from the lumber products division at cost,” he said bluntly.
“Bob, that’s a - that's a tall order, I’ll have to give that some thought. Mrs. Moore will be in Portland next week so we can talk about it, I’ll have to see what we can work out. She may want something in return.” 'And I think I knew what she would want,' I thought.
"One other thing, the Northeast's 206 is still at Rutland," Bob commented.
"We'll take the G1 up there Saturday evening to get the 206, the engineers and accountants," I replied.
"Also, any way you look at it, flying all the way across the country in a 206, is going to be uncomfortable. I'd recommend that we arrange to use the jet, or rent the G1 from Rutland Transair for the week. That would still give us two planes to ferry the teams around."
"That's a good idea Bob, but the jet isn't available. I hadn't thought of using Rutland's G1. Do you think they'd rent the plane without the pilots? You and I can handle the flying, Ron can ride right seat with you to handle the radios. I'll put John in the right seat with me."
John sat up and quickly exclaimed, "DD, I don't know how to fly!"
I looked at John with an evil grin and replied, "We'll talk about that later."
John sat back mumbling, "I guess I'm learning to fly."
"Anything else, anyone would like to discuss?" I asked.
There were a few other ideas brought out and each was discussed. When no other issues were raised I adjourned the meeting, with a few closing comments. "Jerry, we'll see you in Portland, Sunday evening. Bob, get in touch Peter Emos and then with the people in Rutland. We need to know about the G1 so we can make final plans. Bill and John, decide who you want to take and get in touch with them. We'll let them know the exact time of departure as soon as we know it. Nancy, it looks like we're going to need thirty two rooms in Portland Sunday night and Monday night, we'll make other arrangements throughout the Northwest as we know where each team will be. Oh Nancy, one more thing . . . pack a bag, you're going on this one."
"What?" Nancy exclaimed.
I looked at her and nodded.
She looked confused, shrugged her shoulders and said, "Yes ma'am."
Bob stayed after the others had gone; obviously he had something else he wanted to talk about.
“Okay Bob, what’s on your mind?” I asked after we’d moved from the conference table to the lounge area of my office.
“Boss, there’s a couple of things that are bothering me; first, you’re talking of bringing twenty to twenty-five plants into the group all at once. As you’ve said before, that’s a pretty big mouthful to chew at one time. Second, and I think this is my biggest concern, with all that newsprint, our balance of diversification is going to be way off. We’ll be at about 60% newsprint, perhaps more. That just doesn’t make for a wise business plan.”
“I agree completely, Bob. And if it weren’t for fire and the remarks by Robert De Forest’s people, I would have never considered buying any more newsprint plants in the Northwest, or anywhere else for that matter. I honestly felt that with us having those 15 plants, Bobby would have seen that it would be wiser to resume normal pricing, rather than to run at a loss. I never expected that he would stoop so low as to arrange for someone to torch our headquarters. Our only other option would be to tuck our tail between our legs and scurry back East of the Mississippi. Is that what you think we should be doing?”
“No, DD, of course not. I’m just concerned about the product balance and having so many eggs in one basket.”
“I agree, having so much of one product isn’t good for business. How about this, we’ll figure the costs for the plants in the Northwest running one shift, that’s what most of them are doing anyway. Then, after things settle down we can consolidate the newsprint into a third, to one half, of the plants, running two to three shifts in each, and convert the other plants over to run our other product lines, white paper, computer paper, Kraft paper, boxes and a bagging operations as well. We can even take the slowest plants and run some of the Mo Paper, Plymouth, and Appalachian specialty items. To keep the transportation costs down, any orders for distribution west of the Continental Divide, will come from the plants in the Northwest. Does that make you feel better about what we’re doing?”
“That makes a lot of sense. Before you return to school this fall, we should sit down and decide which plants to convert, to what product. Then as demand for those products grow, I can proceed with the conversions and get the new products moving. The only other thing that has me concerned is this; how do you think Mr. De Forest is going to respond. You know he isn’t going to take this laying down.”
Bob and I discussed several options concerning what Bobby might do and how to protect ourselves. In the end, we agreed on several measures that could be taken to protect our people, our plants, and our reputations.
After Bob left, I called John and asked him to write up an evaluation checklist with as much detail as he felt was pertinent. For consistency, we'd have the four engineering teams use the same checklist as they performed their inspections. We would have his hand written list typed and duplicated, Monday afternoon, once we arrived in Portland.
Bob came back about an hour later. Being that we'd chartered the G1 on several occasions, and seeing that both Bob and I were certified to fly them, they agreed to rent us the plane without the pilots. So with two G1's we solidified our plans. We'd take everyone that was going from Jefferson City, in the Piermont G1, to Rutland, Saturday afternoon. Both planes would be loaded and take off from Rutland at 8:00 am, bound for Portland. This will be a first for Bob and me; neither one of us had any experience flying in formation.
Being that Bob was able to arrange for the second G1, we would have some empty seats. When we were limited, I couldn't utilize the personnel I wanted. With that limitation lifted, I made some calls and arranged for a couple more people to fly out.
I also had Bob call Mike O'Neill, our flight instructor, to see if he wanted to help with shuttling teams around. I thought about having Ron fly the Southeast's 206, to Portland for me to use, hopping from site to site. I decided that ten and a half hours in a small plane would be asking a bit much. So, I called the Ameri-Moore office in Portland and asked them to arrange to rent a small plane for my use. Being that I had my multi-engine rating, I wasn't too concerned with what arrangements they'd make, as long as it was at least as fast as a 206.
After the planes were taken care of, I rearranged some other personnel and assignments. We were going to be running four evaluation teams and I wanted an executive either on, or to accompany each team. Bob Warren would accompany team one, Bill Marshal would be a member of team two, John Fahey would be a member of team three, and Ron Collins would accompany team four. Nancy would be stationed in the regional office, coordinating the evaluation assignments for each team, arrange for motel rooms and transportation throughout the week. I kind of wanted a traveling companion for myself, as I bounced around from team to team. I wondered if Grandma or Susan would like to join the circus. Ben Phillips would stay in JC and work of the staffing requirement for our headquarters. Gerard would stay in Jefferson City, looking after the company and the computer restoration project, while everyone else is in the Northwest. Gerard was also to keep tabs on the conversion of the paper machines at Franklin. Matt Piermont's job was to keep sales moving; we were going to need all the cash we could get our hands on.
Nancy called to let me know of the hotel and travel arrangements, in Portland, for Sunday night and Monday. I then called Grandma's Portland office and left word with them, so Grandma would know where to find me.
Just before I left for the day, I picked up the issue of Log Views looking for a phone number. It took several calls before I was connected with the person I wanted.
"Hello, this is Rick Landis."
"Hellllooo Ricky darrrling, it's so thrilling to speak with you again," I answered in the sweetest, most seductive voice I could muster.
"Umm, who is this?"
"Ricky, after the years you spent chasing me, and those - gloooorious hours we spent together on my ranch in Texas, and you don't remember me? I'm crushed Ricky, simply crushed," I teasingly answered.
There were a few moments of silence before Rick ventured to ask, "DD?"
Giggling, I replied using my normal voice, "The one and only. How have you been Rick?"
"I'll tell you in a couple of minutes, after my heart stops racing. I was really sweating for a few minutes, wondering who I'd forgotten, but I'm doing great now. I have to admit you had my curiosity screaming at me like it never had before. What was that hello all about?"
"Well Rick, I'll tell you. The seductive voice was just having a little fun on my part and making sure I had your attention. What I'm calling about will become clear in a few moments. You no doubt heard about the fire at our headquarters in Brandon two weeks ago?"
"Oh yes, we heard about that, it made national news. Everyone has been talking about it since it happened, speculating how it started and what you're going to do next. What are you going to do?"
"Well Rick, being that you've been one of my most loyal supporters, I'm going to give you the story of the decade. By the way, when's the deadline for the next edition and when will it be distributed?"
"About twenty minutes from now and early next week. Do I need to call my editor and have the run put on hold?"
"No, not this issue, but he may want to run a special addition after you get the whole story. What I'd like you to print in this edition are three little sentences, they should go something like this; One, 'Inside sources have confirmed that Piermont Paper has suffered a staggering blow, as a result of the fire at their headquarters in Brandon Vermont several weeks ago.’ Two, ‘Reports are, that it may take more than a year for Piermont to fully recover from this devastation.’ And three, ‘Initial recovery steps have been taken this week, as Piermont relocated its headquarters operations into one of the office buildings, that they had acquired in one of their many buyouts.'
"Of course I'm not a journalist that can give those three sentences the proper flair. I'll leave that up to you. This is just the teaser and you're free to send this to the folks at Paper Press, in fact I wish you would. In fact, I'd like that to appear in the Spokane newspapers as soon as possible. Now then, if you want the rest of the story, you'll need to meet me at our Northwest regional headquarters, near Portland, next Friday."
"Inside sources? You mean I can't quote you?"
"Of course you can quote me - when I say 'inside sources'."
"No, no, I mean I can't say that I'm quoting DD or DD has confirmed?"
"Not with this little piece. Like I said, this is just the teaser. I'll be honest with you Rick, I'm using you. I hoping that by you printing what I've given you, certain individuals will sit back in their overstuffed leather chairs and relax."
"Certain individuals? DD, are you saying -"
I quickly interrupted Rick, saying, "Officially I'm not saying anything."
"But, you're implying something."
"I'm not implying anything, other than what I've asked you to print. If you want the rest of the story, you'll have to meet with me next Friday."
"What? Nothing more than those few words? DD, you're killing me here! You know that don't you? You're just killing me!"
"I'm sorry Rick, but it has to be this way. Friday, you'll understand everything and believe me, it will be worth it to you. And the credit for the story will be all yours."
"DD, you're giving me an exclusive? You're not giving this story to anyone else?"
"I'm just talking with you. Who you allow to reprint or sell the story to, will be up to you."
"DD, I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll meet me next Friday."
"Oh, yes, of course I'll meet you. Nothing could keep me away. But why are you giving me an exclusive?"
"Ask anyone who works for me, I like to reward loyalty. By the way, you don't by chance know where your printing department buys its newsprint, do you?"
"I'm not sure, but I think it’s from A - Alliance . . . Paper."
"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't own any stock in Alliance, do you?"
"Ahh, no, no I don't. Are you saying that you're going after -"
"I'm not saying anything, Rick. Except, that if you want the exclusive story you need to see me next Friday."
"DD, wild horses from Texas couldn't keep me away," Rick seemed a bit excited.
"Great, I'll see you on Friday, Rick. Bye now."
"Goodbye DD."
I met Gina at the hotel and we went out for dinner. I explained that we’d be taking her home on Saturday, instead of Sunday. Of course, that led to a conversation about the plans for the following week. Being that she wasn’t part of my executive team, I didn’t tell her all the details. What I did tell her, made her realize just how much stress I was under.
When we got back to the hotel, Gina again had me change into my pajamas and then she proceeded to educate me about different aids that could be used to help me relax. Tonight’s lesson was around relaxing sounds, like songbirds across a meadow, the ocean gently lapping on a peaceful beach, and the sound of rain on a tin roof.
Again I found myself sitting on the floor with my hands on my knees, the incense was burning, and tonight I heard ocean waves gently washing in and out, as I was thinking of cuddling with Auntie when I was little.
“Are you still awake?” Gina whispered.
“Yes, I’m awake.” My voice sounded a little funny to my ears. I’m sure it was my imagination, but I sounded like I was eleven.
“Come on little one, time for bed.”
Gina hadn’t told me to keep my eyes closed, so I opened them. I was a little surprised to find her wearing a pair of emerald green pajamas.
Gina answered the question in my eyes, “You need your sleep tonight, little one. Tonight we’ll just cuddle.”
With everything that was going on in my life a nice cuddle sounded wonderful. Gina joined me in bed, put her arms around me and gently stroked my hair. The next thing I remembered was Gina gently shaking me.
“Time to wake up, little one,”
After showering and getting dressed, we packed our luggage and I checked out of the hotel. I thanked the desk clerk for the hotel’s hospitality and informed them that I’d be back in about a week. After a quick breakfast, we headed for the office.
I had been thinking about the conversation I'd had with Bob, about consolidating newsprint production and running the specialty products at some of the plants. That line of thinking made me decide to change the inspection teams around a little, because I wanted John with me, so he could get at least a quick look at each plant.
I called John and ask him to arrange for one more engineer, making that twelve engineers. Then I called Gerard and ask him to be prepared to join one of the inspiration teams. The final step in the reorganization, was to call Ian Thorehill. It would be Ian's job to monitor the status of the company, the ongoing projects, and to contact Nancy if any problems arose. Nancy in turn, would alert Bob or myself, so we could contact Ian for more details and to give him instructions.
With the finally arrangements completed, Bob, Gina, and I went to the airport to preflight the G1, so it would be ready to go when the others arrived. As we rounded the last hangar, I got my first look at the plane I'd purchased the previous fall. I hadn't seen it for several weeks and was surprised by what I saw.
"Who on earth did that to my airplane?" I demanded.
"What do you mean," Bob started, and then continued. "Oh, you haven't seen the new paint job. Victor Roskelley, the man we hired for the Fleet Operations Manager, thought it would be a good idea to add our major marketing brand names to the fleet of trucks, below the Piermont Paper Products logo."
"That's fine, but that doesn't explain what happened to my airplane," I said.
Gina was giggling.
"Well, Victor heard we had some airplanes and he thought they should have the same logos on them."
"So, you're telling me that all our trucks and planes look like this?"
"Well, not exactly," Bob confessed. "You see, Victor also heard that this was your airplane and that you came up with the idea for the notebooks, and-"
"So, Victor talked to you about this paint job, and you approved it?"
"We did talk about it, however, my impression of what he was planning and what he actually did, aren't quite the same thing."
"This is terrific, I'm probably the only one in the country with a Flower-Power airplane."
"Well, I think the folks for Rowan & Martin have a jet that looks kind of similar. I'm sure that their plane doesn't have our logos on the tail and under the windows."
"I guess that's something,” I glumly agreed.
“If my opinion counts for anything, I think it’s kind of cool,” Gina added.
“Answer this question for me, Bob. Does it bother you to fly around the country, in a Flower-Power airplane?" I asked.
"Honestly, I've been mostly using the Northeast's 206. This kind of does something funny to my insides when I get to close. Bringing her down from Rutland was the first time I've flown her since Victor's paint job. The round trip Thursday and Friday, I tried to ignore it.”
“It does something funny to your insides? Like what?"
"Well . . . it makes me want to go walking through a meadow bare foot, lay in a field of wild flowers and watch the clouds float by."
"Careful there, Bob. We wouldn't want you to lose yourself in the free love movement that's sweeping the country," I cautioned.
"Oh no, it’s nothing like that. But perhaps I should look into taking a little more time off."
"Bob, you should bring your wife and kids down to the ranch for a week. Ride the horses, relax, and just spend some time in the great outdoors. We have lots of extra room."
“Am I invited to visit the ranch?” Gina asked.
“Any time you want. Just let us know in advance, so my sisters and I can juggle our schedules,” I replied.
"Spending some time on your family’s ranch sounds like a good idea. After we get all the new plants integrated, I could take some time . . . No, that won't work. By then the kids will be in school."
"It’s okay, Bob. Somehow we'll find you some time to relax. After the next couple of months, you're going to need it. I don't need to get a phone call from Nancy, telling me that you're running around the offices barefoot, wearing Bermuda shorts and tie died shirt, with several strings of love beads around your neck." I had to laugh at his expression. "In the meantime, let's get this plane ready to fly." I shook my head, as we started on the preflight check list for Flower-Power one.
We finished the preflight, just as people started showing up. There were a lot of comments about the paint job.
Bob and Ron flew from Jefferson City to Newark, while I sat in back with Gina. I was flying left seat from Newark to Rutland, and was a little surprised when I called Rutland control. I identified my aircraft according to regulations, "Rutland control, this is Gulfstream, November Two One Six Papa Papa. We are a hundred miles out, requesting weather conditions and landing instructions."
"Gulfstream, November Two One Six Piermont Paper, this is Rutland control. The skies are clear, with unlimited visibility. Winds are ten miles per hour, West by Northwest, with gusts to eighteen. You are cleared to land on runaway one, one. There is nothing else in the pattern. Welcome home Piermont One."
I looked at Bob for an explanation. He just shrugged his shoulders.
"Confirmed Rutland control, landing on runaway one, one, two one six."
I looked at Bob, "Piermont Paper, instead of Papa Papa?"
"They know which planes are ours and they've been using that designation for a while now. I guess they've got family working at one of our plants."
"I suppose. What about Piermont One? Is that their normal designation for this plane?"
"Actually, I've never heard that phrase used before. They've never used it, when I've been flying her. I guess they recognize your voice."
"Oh great, now I'm being saluted over the radio," I moaned.
"You know, boss. I've heard of other planes being nicknamed by air traffic controllers. There's a Gulfstream 1, number N234MM, that flies all over the country. Most air traffic controllers refer to it simply as, ‘Mickey Mouse’."
"Mickey Mouse?"
"It's Walt Disney's plane."
"Well, I guess that makes sense. I'm surprised that Walt Disney flies a G1. I figured him as a jet person. Wait a second, you said they've been referring to our planes as Piermont Paper inside of Papa Papa for a while. This is the only plane whose identification ended with PP. The Northeast's 206 ends with MV and the Southeast's ends with NR."
"Um, not anymore," Bob confessed. "When they started using Piermont Paper for the G1 we got permission from the FAA to change the others. Both the 206's have new identification numbers ending in PP. I also have three registration numbers reserved ending in PP for when we have planes in the Midwest, Northwest, and Southwest regions."
"Well, I see you're planning ahead, as usual, but I think you need to plan for one more."
"One more?"
"Yes. We'll talk about it later, for now, let's land this bird."
I felt that my landing was a little rough due to not having flown for a while, but nobody said anything. I was hoping I could sneak in a few touch and goes before we left Sunday morning, but it wasn’t meant to be. It was more important to spend a couple of hours with John, teaching him what he needed to know about navigation and the navcom radios.
Sunday morning, we lifted off at 8:00 sharp. I led off in Piermont’s G1 with Bob following behind and on my port side. We climbed to our planned cruising altitude of 24,000 feet and headed for Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where we planned to stop for fuel, lunch, and a restroom break. From Sioux Falls to Portland, Bob led and I followed. It was during this leg of our flight that I decided to let John know how I envisioned his job evolving and about him making a decision.
"So, John, what do you think of flying?"
"I've always thought flying was a fine way to travel."
"No, I mean doing the flying?"
"Well, the way you talked the meeting, last Friday. I assumed the decision was made and I'd have to learn."
"John, as the VP of Production Engineering, your role in the company, will be making some rapid changes. In the next few months, you'll be doing a lot more traveling than you have in the past."
"More traveling? DD, in the last six months, the longest I've been home at any one time, is thirty-five days. I guess it's a good thing I'm single."
"That reminds me of something else we need to discuss, since we made you a VP, we haven't appointed a new chief engineer for Brandon. I'd like you to make a recommendation of the current engineers, to fill that role."
"But, DD, I thought I was doing okay handling both jobs, like Bob has been Executive VP and Brandon plant manager."
"John, please don't take this the wrong way; you've been doing a superb job of handling all the craziness I've thrown at you. I couldn't be happier with you and how well you've handled everything. But, the company is changing and the demands on you and your time are going to increase, which is one reason why I think you need your pilots’ license. Also, with you gone so much, Brandon needs someone that can devote their full attention to seeing to the needs of that plant. By the way, it hasn't been publicly announced yet, but Bob decided to make the move to JC, which means I'll be looking for a VP for the Northeast region, after we're finished in the Northwest. Of course, I was planning to appoint one sometime this summer, to take some of the load off Bob's shoulders. The fire kind of threw everyone’s plans into a tailspin."
"Are you saying, I need to move to JC?"
"I would like to have you in JC, there's no denying that, but I'm not going to force you to move. However, in your roll as VP, you will be doing more overseeing of projects, like the conversion at Franklin. I'm sorry you can't be there this week, but I want you to have a good look at each of the plants we're buying. Bob and I were discussing the problems of having so much newsprint, versus our other products and we’ve decided the best way to handle the situation would be to consolidate the newsprint in the Northwest to the medium speed plants. The lower speed plants we will shut down, for four weeks. At each plant we'll overhaul all the equipment, clean and repaint the buildings, and set them up to run the specialty products. The high-speed plants will likewise be refurbished to run the regular Piermont products. Essentially, what we want to achieve is, that orders for delivery west of the Continental Divide will come from plants in the Northwest. As the VP of Production Engineering, you would be overseeing all of the overhaul and conversions. Besides the conversions, you'll be overseeing the engineering, maintenance staff, and procedures at all the other plants."
"DD, that's a lot to handle. I don't know if I'm ready for all that."
“John, you’ve already been doing everything I’ve described, it just wasn’t formally put into words.”
“What do you mean?”
“John, who do I normally take with me when I’m looking at a new acquisition, to evaluate the equipment and give me an estimated value? You, almost every time. Who was it that oversaw the conversions of the equipment when we started producing the novelty napkins, the construction paper, and all the other specialty items for the Mo Paper and Appalachian Paper product lines? You did. With each plant or company we’ve purchased, who evaluated the performance of each of the engineering teams and the equipment maintenance? You did. If the maintenance schedules weren’t up to our standards, who worked with the teams, and brought the equipment and teams up to our standards? You did. The only thing you haven’t done yet, is go back and verify that everything, and everyone, is maintaining our high standards.”
“When you spell it out so plainly, I guess I have been doing the job that you described. So why do I need to learn to fly?”
“First, as you know, the company is growing by leaps and bounds. Second, because up until now we’ve had the luxury of having Ameri-Moore’s jet to get you and your people around. The demand on the company jet is becoming much greater and we won’t be able to count on its availability. Lastly, because if I know you, you’ll be traveling more than Bob does.”
“More than Bob? Why do you think that?”
“Think about it, as the Exec VP, Bob will have all the Regional VP’s to delegate to and he’s okay with that most of the time. In the four years that I’ve known you, I’ve come to understand, that if you aren’t in the thick of things and busy all the time, you tend to get a little . . . sulky.”
“Sulky?”
“Relax John. It’s not a bad sulky, more of a high level of commitment with suddenly nothing to do, kind of sulky. Believe me when I say, I’m very pleased with your level of commitment, which is why I think you need to learn to fly. Right now the company has three planes, one designated for the Northeast region, one for the Southeast region, and our, umm, Flower-Power G1. I'm going to get Victor for this," I said, with a giggle. "In time, each of the other regions will have their own plane, so the regional VP’s can get around to each of their plants more efficiently. That will tie up most of our planes, most of the time, and with you needing to get around more, I think that you will need your own plane.”
“Wait a second; did you say that I would have my own plane?”
“You heard me correctly; you’ll need your own plane. Something that is fast enough, so you can use it to get around and visit each of the plants in a reasonable amount of time, but yet large enough, that you can transport a team of engineers when needed, along with cargo space for tools and the parts you may need for a special project. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds just a bit overwhelming, but on the other hand, it should be an interesting challenge. What’s the first step?”
Reaching down on the left side of my seat, I pulled up a small package. “The first step is to learn the requirements. Take these books and study them, that should give you something to do next week while you’re killing time in the various motel rooms,” I said, as I passed the package across the center console. “When you’re ready, you need to take the FAA written exam. Then we’ll get you set up with an instructor, Mike is very good. If you push it, you can have your license in six to eight weeks. Then we’ll get you checked out in one of the Cessna 206’s. After that, you’ll need to work on your multiengine rating, using the G1. In the meantime, you can start looking around at the various planes that are available, to decide what you want.”
"Pilots license, my own plane, I guess this means you want me to stay on as the VP of Production Engineering?"
I looked over at John for a moment, "What have we been talking about? Of course I want you as my VP. I trust and rely on your knowledge and judgment."
"So, I do need to move to Jefferson City!"
"John, as I told you before, I would like you in JC. It will make the working relationship between you, me, and the other department heads much easier. But I will not force you to move. Bob and I discussed your situation. We concluded that it wasn't absolutely necessary for you to be in JC. You could perform almost all of your duties while being based out of Brandon. I realize that to you, Brandon is home and it will always be home, but that doesn't mean that you can't spend time away from home. That being said; let me propose something else for you to think about. What would you think about spending summers in Brandon and winters in JC?"
"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. You said I'd be able to perform most of my duties from Brandon. What wouldn't I be able to do from there?"
"Well, for one, you wouldn't be available for those spur of the moment rush out, evaluate, and buy quick, trips that we like so much."
"And those trips are always such fun," John added softly. "You said I could choose my own plane?"
"Anything within reason, and it has to have propellers. You can't land and take off from a grass airstrip in a jet. It will also simplify maintenance if our fleet is all propeller driven."
"So, I'm looking for something that can keep up with the G1, that is propeller driven, and the ability to carry passengers, as well as cargo. That might take some time to fill that order."
"I'm sure you'll find something. One thing I learned about you is, that once you set your mind on a challenge, you've always come up with a solution."
"Thanks DD."
We landed in Portland and taxied to the tie downs, in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar. As we came to a stop and shut down the engines, an arranged for charter bus, pulled up between us and the hangar. Mike O’Neill helped me secure Piermont's G1, while Bob and Ron took care of the other one. As we were loading the last of the luggage onto the bus, the fuel truck we'd arranged for, pulled up. So, our departure from the airport was delayed, while Bob and I supervised the fueling of the two planes. While the guys from the fuel truck were busy, Bob and I took a few minutes to admire a Beechcraft, King Air, B90 that was tied down one space away from the G1's.
The trip to the Embassy Suites took about twenty minutes, but it took almost an hour to get our thirty people checked in. Bob and I stood by, as each of our people were registered and checked-in. With this large of a group, we wanted to make certain there were no problems. When it was finally my turn, I was handed an extra envelope, addressed simply to 'Darla Anne Drake.'
Bob was watching me with a curious expression, as I studied the mysterious envelope, before gently ripping it open.
Smiling, I looked up at Bob, "It's a note from Mrs. Moore. She's arrived earlier today and wants me to call her once I'm settled in here."
"Then we should get you upstairs, so you can get settled and give her a call," Bob replied.
"I'll give her a call and see what I can do for her," I said, as we stepped into the elevator. "In the meantime, why don't you look over the restaurant advertisements that are usually left in the rooms and see where would be a good place to take everyone for dinner?"
I figured I would only be staying at the suites for two nights, so there was really no reason to completely unpack. I put my suitcase on the bed picked up the phone.
"Hello."
"Hi Grandma, its Darla Anne."
"Hello dear, how was the flight? I assume you were flying that new plane of yours?"
"Yes, I was flying Piermont's G1. Bob Warren was flying a G1 we rented from Rutland TransAir."
"Two planes, how many people did you bring?"
"All total we've got thirty."
"Thirty people, and you're staying at the Embassy Suites?"
"I ask Nancy the same question when she informed me of the arrangements. She told me that there is some big convention in Portland this weekend and none of the larger, but less expensive, hotels weren't able to provide thirty rooms. I think my negotiation skills must be rubbing off on everyone. Nancy also told me that she'd negotiated a fifteen percent discount on the block of rooms."
"We'll, that makes it a little better, I suppose. So, when do you want to get together?"
"Well, I've got to get our people some dinner, we'll probably walk to someplace close by. In the morning we'll have breakfast here at the hotel. The Embassy Suites does a 'Made to Order' breakfast, which I'm sure is included in the price of the room. Personally, I'd rather have Tony's French Toast, but there's no sense in paying for breakfast twice."
"I'll agree with you there. This is private enterprise not the US Government. We don't believe in paying twice what something is worth."
"Exactly. We've arranged for a charter bus that will take everyone to the Northwest Region headquarters at 1:00. So, I'll be available most of tomorrow morning."
"I'll be in my office most of the morning. I have a meeting with the Executive VP's from the other three divisions at 11:00. Being that you're in town, you might as well attend."
"I've never heard of you holding a top executives meeting before. When did you start that?"
"This is our first one. After sitting in on the meeting with you and your executives in Brandon, after the fire, I thought I'd try something a little more informal. If it works out, I think we'll meet once every quarter. I may not be a spring chicken, but I can still learn a thing or two."
"That's terrific. I'll get a cab in the morning and be there at 9:00. We'll talk about the details of what I'm planning and then attend the meeting at 11:00."'
"Very good, I'll see you at 9:00, dear. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Grandma."
Dinner was nothing special, we found an 'all you can eat' buffet close by. For that type of restaurant, the food was pretty good.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 4
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 4
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Monday July 10,1972
After a long day of flying, I was pretty beat and went to bed fairly early. Being an early riser, I dressed in what I hoped would be a lucky suit and went down to breakfast. I knew the French Toast they were serving couldn't compare to Tony's, so I ordered an omelet, with some hash browns on the side. Not seeing any of our people, I found a large empty table and sat down, where I could observe the comings and goings.
Shortly after I'd sat down, our people started drifting into the serving area, in three's and four's. It was interesting, although a bit sad, to observe how few crossed the imaginary Cast system boundaries. The engineers sat with engineers and the accountants sat with accountants. The VP's, being in a different Cast, sat with me.
As I walked through the reception lobby and the executive offices, at Ameri-Moore's headquarters, everyone greeted me by name. I only recognized some of them, but returned each greeting cheerfully. It was a few minutes before 9:00, when I said hello to Grandma's secretary. She returned my greeting and we chatted for a few moments before she informed Grandma that I was here.
Grandma was on the couch in the casual area of her office, "Darling, it's so good to see you. It seems like it's been weeks and weeks since I've seen you. You still need that hug?"
"It has been weeks, well almost two weeks to be exact, and yes I could still do with a hug," I said, as I crossed to the couch and sat next to Grandma.
"As long as you don't sit on my lap, you're welcome to all the hugs you want," Grandma said, as we embraced. "You've grown a bit in the last six years."
I relaxed in Grandma's arms, as I felt some of the stress of the last two weeks disappear. "Thanks Grandma, I really needed that."
"So, tell me how the recovery is progressing."
"Actually, in that arena, things are going really well. Word of the fire spread throughout the industry like, well . . . like a wild fire. Tuesday morning, after the fire, the first of our suppliers called, asking what they could do to help. Tom Harris got with me and we decided that the best thing was to have them send a copy of any unpaid invoices, with COPY stamped on the invoice. That way we can match up the copies we receive, with what came out of fireproof vaults. By Thursday, all of our suppliers had contacted us, along with most of our customers. We asked the customers to send us a copy of the invoices we've sent them over the last month, also stamped COPY, and to indicate if the invoice had been paid. With all the copies coming in, we'll know if our people followed procedure and put everything into the vaults, before they went home.
"Of course, everyone was given the new mailing address, for the offices in Jefferson City. By last Friday, the post office was delivering mail in boxes, at the loading dock, rather than hand carried in the front door."
"It sounds like you should have everything back to normal in a few more weeks," Grandma commented.
"Perhaps sooner, the new computer arrived last Thursday. By now it should be wired up and most of the preliminary testing, by IBM, should be finished. Then they'll load our applications and run through another several days of testing. Somewhere between this coming Friday and the following Monday, we should be ready to go back on line."
"That's wonderful, dear."
"Yes, it's a good thing we had a building with a computer center, ready to go. As you know, we really would have been scrambling without Roy Blu's foresight. I'm going to have the office buildings in Asheville and Owosso prepared with computer centers, as a 'just in case' measure. I don't think anyone will set fire to the new headquarters building, that would be too obvious, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
"I agree, another fire would be unexplainable. I also agree with your move to using a computer for Piermont's accounting. I like the idea so much that I'm going to have computer centers set up in the textile division and the cattle division, headquarter buildings. Along with setting up for a computer here in our Portland office building."
"Grandma, that's wonderful. What changed your mind about using computers?"
"Computers are something I've been considering for some time. But, it was the fire in Brandon that convinced me that the time had come to move forward with those plans."
"You think someone might attack Ameri-Moore?"
"No dear, but you never know when or where a natural disaster may strike. Being able to recover, as quickly as you're doing is well worth the expense. I think of the expense as disaster recovery insurance."
"I hadn't thought of it that way. I'll have to talk with Bill Marshal and see if we can write off the computer lease payment as disaster recovery insurance. In any case, with a computer in each division, we would be able to back up each other. That way if something happens to one division, the others could step in and take over, until they're back on their feet, with almost no interruption of services."
"I hadn't thought of going that far, dear, but that's a terrific idea. That's why I enjoy our private talks, you teach me all the new tricks."
"But Grandma, I thought I was learning from you."
"Who said learning was a one way street? Now tell me all about your battle plans with Alliance."
I explained in detail everything I had planned, from the buyouts of those that wanted to sell, to using the news media against Alliance. Grandma sat quietly, as I detailed the plans I'd made.
"You've put a lot of thought into this, but I have to ask, what about those who don't want to sell out?" Grandma asked.
"I've been thinking about that, but I haven't come up with a solution. I can't, and don't want to force anyone, to sell their company to Piermont. If I tried to do anything like that, I'd be no better than Alliance."
"On the other hand, if you do nothing your low pricing strategy will have the same effect, you'll drive them out of business."
"Exactly. I just haven't come up with a plan that doesn't have a negative effect on the other remaining independent manufacturers. There has to be one, I just can't think of what it might be."
"Have you considered offering them a limited partnership?"
"A what?"
"A limited partnership. Let me explain."
For the next half hour we discussed a plan that would allow Piermont to compete with Alliance on our terms, while preserving the independent manufacturers. It was about ten thirty, when I changed the topic of discussion. "Grandma, I have one more item we need to discuss."
"What's that, dear?"
"It's something that Bob Warren brought to my attention, after we talked last Friday. He reminded me that by selling the timber lands and sawmills to the lumber division, our cost for wood products will be going up, at a time when we're trying to drive costs down. He suggested that I do a little wheeling and dealing with you."
"You know I'll help wherever I can, what did you have in mind?"
"I was hoping we could work something out, where the lumber division would sell wood chips or logs, to Piermont's newsprint plants at cost. Only as long as we are in a price war with Alliance. Once Alliance calls it off and goes back to their normal pricing, then we'll do the same and of course, we'd expect to pay our normal price to the lumber division."
"That's more than I imagined. That will actually effect the bottom line for the lumber division. I'll have to think about that." Grandma paused for a few moments, then added "You mentioned a little wheeling and dealing, you've explained the dealing, now what kind of wheeling are you prepared to offer?"
"I'm prepared to offer you something you've wanted for the last three years."
"You don't mean?"
"I do. If the lumber division will sell at cost, all of the wood products needed by Piermont's newsprint plants, for the duration of the price war; I, along with the bulk of my executive staff, will assume operational management of the textile division, after I graduate next June, of course."
"Oh sweetheart, I know I said I'd like you to work your magic on the textile division; but I never intended for you to assume control."
"I know you didn't, Grandma. For some time now, the rumors have been saying that I've been running the division from behind the scenes. If I'm going to be accused of running the division, I might as well step out of the shadows, assume direct control, and restore the division’s profitability. Also, you and I both know that the real magic at Piermont has been coming from the management team that we've put together."
"What will everyone say about moving to Texas?"
"Who said anything about moving? We'll treat it like any other company that we've taken over. We'll temporarily move our people into management positions, evaluate the overall operation, evaluate each member of the management team, make whatever changes are necessary, and in general, inspire productivity with excitement, innovation, and incentives. And while we're at it, I'll take Judy under my wing, so to speak, and teach her what she needs to know to be the Division President."
"Oh Darla Anne, that's exactly what that division needs, a shot in the arm of youthful exuberance and fire. There's no way that I, or any of the existing management, would be able do what you're capable of doing. Are you sure you need one more year of schooling?"
"Yes. You know that I take my education very seriously. Besides, we've got the situation with Alliance to take care of and I want to give my people time to learn the textile industry. I'll tell them about the temporary assignment during the semester break, next January. I'd like a copy of the last ten years reports to hand out, at that time. Also, I don't think we should mention any of this to Mr. Edwards, until my team and I move in."
"I agree, the fewer that know about you taking charge the better. If word got out, some people may leave out of fear of the unknown."
"Exactly, I wouldn't want to lose good personnel, just because of the fear factor. Have you set up the off shore manufacturers that we talked about?"
"I've been doing some scouting for likely sights, but I haven't made any decisions as yet."
"I think you should go ahead with those plans. As we've discussed, the price of the competition’s every day clothes, has dropped below our cost. The only way to remain competitive is, to follow they're lead. But don't close all of the domestic factories, I have some ideas for upscale and high quality clothes, that can be produced domestically."
"What do you mean, dear?"
"I don't want to reveal any of my plans this early in the game, because right now, they're nothing more than vague ideas. But, I'm thinking of doing something like we did with the paper products. We'll develop a name brand for children's wear and one for young adults in every day wear, which will be what we import. Then another brand for special event wear, and a brand of high class, high quality wear."
"Oh yes, I like it. Are you sure we have to wait until next June?"
"Yes, it will have to wait. Grandma, it's almost eleven, don't we have a meeting to get to?"
"Yes, of course. We're meeting in the small conference room, down the hall. I guess we should be going, we don't want to be late."
Grandma led the way, as we entered the conference room we were greeted by the executive VP's from the other three divisions. I exchanged greetings with each of my counterparts, Mr. Patrick Malone for the Lumber division, Mr. Eric Jameson for the Cattle division, and Mr. John Edwards for the Textile division.
"Welcome everyone and thank you for coming," Grandma started, after everyone was seated. "I attended another executive meeting not too long ago. I was surprised at how informally it was conducted. I was equally surprised at how much was accomplished in such an informal setting. In an effort to challenge the old saying about old dogs and new tricks, I thought we'd try something a little different. First, I'd like a brief update on each division, and then we'll see where we go from there. Patrick, would you like to start the ball rolling."
There was a general look of shock on the faces of the three gentlemen, especially on Patrick's face. I wasn't sure, but to my knowledge, Grandma had never addressed any of her executive VP's by their first name.
Patrick was stunned a bit, but eventually found where his tongue had disappeared to. Once he had calmed down, he gave a brief accounting of the health of the lumber division.
"Thank you, Patrick. I know that was a bit of a shock and it took a bit of growing. John, what's the status of the textile division?"
John wasn't as shocked as Patrick had been, but it still took him a few moments to find his voice. After that, he presented a rundown of the textile division, which hadn't seen much improvement. He went on to describe the efforts that were underway to bring the division out of its five year slump. To my mind, it seemed that his efforts were on the feeble and half-hearted side.
"Thank you John. Eric."
Eric's report was a bit more positive. The herds and ranches were doing very well and they were looking at acquiring additional land, with plans to set up additional ranches.
"Eric, this is news to me. Why haven't I heard about these plans before?" Grandma inquired.
"Right now, the plans are still in the research phase. I was planning to discuss it with you the next time you came to Abilene. That new account we landed, McDonalds, they have projected to double, or triple, their beef requirements over the next five years. Considering the growth of our other customers, we've projected that we'll have to double the size of all our herds and processing plants, within the next three years. The ranches we have, won't support that kind of growth."
"Well, that is interesting news," Grandma said. "I look forward to a full report in July. Thank you, Eric. Darla Anne."
"Well, as I'm sure you're all aware, we lost our headquarters building, in Brandon Vermont, due to a fire." Everyone nodded, as they acknowledged their knowledge of the events. "The official report hasn't been released yet, but we are fairly certain that the fire was not an accident, or an act of god."
"What are you basing that on?" Patrick asked.
"Two things; first, the fire started in a storage area where there weren't any chemicals stored that could have caused or added to the fire, it was where we stored excess office furniture. Also, the buildings electrical had been completely overhauled two years ago, to get things ready for a computer system, so that rules out electrical malfunction. The second reason we suspect foul play is that, representatives of Alliance Paper, have been telling people, that if Piermont doesn't get out of the Northwest, they'll finish the job. The good news is, we've moved into the almost new office building, that we acquired as part of the Mo Paper buyout. Our replacement computer arrived last Thursday and it should be on line this Friday or next Monday.
"A computer?" Eric asked.
"Of course, a computer," I defended with a giggle. "With each new acquisition, our accounting department was growing exponentially. By automating accounting and installing a computer, we streamlined the overall process. In the process, we've reduced not only the size of the department, but most of the errors that were caused by the human factor. Now, instead of having a second accountant double checking the work of the first accountant, the computer provides the double check."
"In fact, I've been so impressed with Piermont's computerized accounting, that I've decided it's time to install a computer at each division headquarters," Grandma added.
"That's something I wasn't aware of," Patrick exclaimed.
"I may be old, but I can still learn a few new tricks," Grandma said, with a smile. "Darla, I suppose now is a good time to tell everyone what we're doing about Alliance."
"I guess you're right, Grandma. Last Friday, during our executive staff meeting, Piermont Paper Products declared a state of economic war with Alliance Paper." I went on and explained in detail what I meant, what our plans were, and how the lumber division would be involved. I also gave Patrick the deeds and titles for the sawmills and timberlands.
"I just spent a 100 million dollars?" Patrick queried. "I didn't know spending money could be so much fun, or move so fast."
We all chuckled at his humor.
Grandma had arranged for lunch to be brought in at noon and she called an end to the meeting at 1:00 pm, knowing I needed to get over to the paper plant. I was going to leave directly from the conference room, but Grandma herded me back into her office.
"But, Grandma. I need to get out to the plant," I insisted.
"Yes, dear, I know you need to be on your way. This will only take a moment. There's something in my office that I think you should take along this week. Kind of a good luck charm."
"After all the companies I've purchased, I need a good luck charm this week?"
"Well, perhaps a good luck charm isn't quite right. Let’s call it . . . a trainee," Grandma said, as she her pushed open her office door.
I went in first, looking back towards Grandma, instead of into the office, as I questioned, "A trainee?"
Not a half second later, I bumped into something, or rather someone.
"Hey, watch it sis," Susan exclaimed, as the two of us caught ourselves just before falling over.
"Gez Suz, what are you doing hiding in here?" I asked, while grabbing her shoulders to stop us both from falling over.
"Hiding? I was standing in the middle of the room," Susan professed, as we backed away from each other. "You're the one that came charging into the room without looking where you were going."
We both stood still for a moment, looking at each other. Then we started to laugh, and hugged.
"So, what are you doing here Suz?"
"It was Grandma's idea. She called me Friday afternoon and asked me to be here today at one. She said you were sad and needed some hugging."
"Well, I did on Friday. Oh what the heck, I still do," I replied. I looked over at Grandma, who was standing just inside the closed door, smiling. I reached over and pulled her into a three-way hug.
After we stepped apart, Susan asked, "So, why am I here?"
"I thought Darla Anne could use some company this week," Grandma explained. "Your job is to observe and learn how your sister does what she does."
"Grandma, is that what you meant about a trainee?" I asked.
"Yes, my dears. If Susan can learn how you distinguish between a good deal and a bad one, perhaps she can help me with future acquisitions."
"But, I don't know anything about buying stuff," Susan complained.
"I wouldn't say that sis, I've been with you in clothing stores. I've watched, while you were hunting for the right outfit, at the right price. Don't tell me you don't know how to shop."
"But, that's totally different," Susan professed.
"That's where you're wrong sis. Spending twenty dollars on a dress, or twenty million on a company, is pretty much the same process, there are just a few more zeros in the process."
"If you say so, personally I still think you're a little nuts."
"Nuts or not, Darla Anne has a record of success, that every business man in American is envious of. I think you, Judy, and Mary could all learn a few tricks from Darla," Grandma added, finishing our discussion.
So it was decided, Susan would be my companion for the week, I would be her teacher, and I was having one of those deja vu moments.
I had talked with Bob Warren at breakfast, about spending the morning at the corporate headquarters. We also concluded that it wasn't necessary to take everyone out to the plant, that afternoon. While I was spending the morning with Grandma, Bob had canceled the large bus and arranged for a limo, which would take the five VP's, Nancy, and me to the plant. They were to stop at the corporate offices to pick me up, before heading out to the plant. Of course, at the time we didn't know that Susan would be joining us, but one more wouldn't be a problem.
When Susan and I arrived in the lobby we found Bob was conducting a brief tour, as most of our people had never been to the corporate offices before. Susan and I, having spent many days in the building, decided to wait in the lobby until they were ready to go and enjoy a little, sister catch up time. After we were settled into the limo I introduced Susan to those that didn't know her. The ride out to the plant took about forty minutes.
Jerry was waiting for us in the lobby and after I introduced him to Susan, he escorted everyone up to my office, which I didn't know I had. I was having another of those deja vu moments, the President's office, in the Northwest Regional Offices, was almost a duplicate of the office I had in Brandon. After a brief look around it was time to get down to business and I invited everyone to take a seat around the conference table.
"Let's get down to business," I started. "We all know how much work we have ahead of us, this week. The first order of business is to get Bill's and John's checklists typed up and duplicated."
"I'll take care of that," Nancy volunteered.
"I'll arrange for a typewriter to be brought up to your desk," Jerry added, as he stood up.
"My desk?" Nancy questioned.
"I'm assuming you'd be using the desk in the outer office. The one for the President's private secretary," Jerry replied, with a smile, as he crossed to my desk.
Nancy smiled innocently and replied, "Oh, yes. That will be fine."
We waited a few moments, while Jerry made a quick phone call and returned.
"It should be ready for you in about ten minutes," Jerry said, as he sat back down.
"Thank you, Jerry," I added. "The next order of business is to get some large maps, so we can plot out where each paper plant is located, where the nearest airstrips are, and where hotels or motels are located."
"I have those in my office," Jerry informed us. "Where do you want them?"
"We'll take them with us to the meeting with the plant owners. That way there won't be any question about where each plant is located. Then, Nancy will be able to use those maps to coordinate the various activities throughout the week. I guess the next thing we need to know is when and where is the meeting with the plant owners."
"I've scheduled that for 5:00 in one of the conference rooms at the Hilton, next to the Portland airport. Most of those attending will be flying in and I thought that would be convenient for everyone," Jerry informed us. "I've reserved the room in my name, rather than the company name. I thought that under the circumstances, we wanted as little publicly as possible."
"Good thinking, Jerry," I commended. "For accomplishing what we're trying to do, the fewer that know I'm in the area, the better. The next item of business is, transportation for everyone. Nancy will be working out of her office, or my office. She will need a company car from the pool. The evaluation teams will need transportation to the airport, early tomorrow morning, I believe the chartered bus is still scheduled for that trip?"
"Yes, I confirmed the reservation for 6:00 am tomorrow, when I changed today's reservation from the bus to the limo," Bob confirmed.
"Terrific. We want the teams airborne by 7:00 am, with team one at its first inspection site by 8:00 am. Bob, I'm assuming you and your team will be using Piermont's G1, with Mike shutting the other three teams in the rental?"
"That's correct, Mike thought I should have the honor of flying Flower Power one."
"Flower Power one?" Jerry and Susan questioned.
"Oh, you two haven't seen what Victor did to DD's G1," Bob said. Everyone else chuckled, as Bob continued, "She almost went into shock when she saw it."
"Well, what did he do?" Susan asked.
John, who was sitting next to Susan, quietly explained. "You know the Flower Power note book cover that DD inspired?" Susan acknowledged with a nod. "Well, Victor took that design and blew it up. It covers the G1 from wingtip to wingtip and nose to tail."
Jerry smiled as he shook his head. Susan thought it was cool and couldn't wait to see it. Everyone else went through another round of chuckling at the expense of my poor defenseless aircraft.
"I haven't decided what I'm doing with Victor about it," I said. "Speaking of airplanes, someone at Ameri-Moore was supposed to rent one for me, so I can easily jump from place to place. Do you have the specifics on that, Jerry?"
"It was delivered yesterday and was tied down in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar."
"'I didn't see a 206 when we tied down the G1's, did you Bob?"
"Oh, it isn't a 206," Jerry added. "They didn't have a 206, or a G1. They rented a Beechcraft, King Air, B90."
"A Beechcraft, King Air? We did see one of those, when we were fueling the G1's. It's a nice looking plane, but I've never flown one before."
"The rental company said, that if you can fly a G1, which they said handles like a truck, the King Air will be easy to fly and it should feel more like a fine spots car."
"Really? This could be interesting. I'd still like to have an experienced pilot go up with me for a check ride."
"I'll take care of that, DD. When do you want to have someone meet you at the plane?" Jerry asked.
"I guess the only time I'll have is right after our meeting with the independent owners, say 6:30 pm."
"I'll set it up," Jerry concluded.
"You'll set it up?" I asked.
"Yes, I'll set it up. Your secretary at Ameri-Moore gave me the details this morning. I've been handling most of the details of your visit myself. We didn't want the word of your visit to be leaked outside the company," Jerry elaborated.
"I understand, but I'm sure that news of my being here has spread throughout the plant."
"I told people here that you were coming on an inspection tour, nothing more."
"Well, in that case, as soon as were done here, I guess we'll have to go on a tour of the plant."
"Yes ma'am," Jerry agreed, with a smile.
"Tell me Jerry, does this office have a direct phone line, one that doesn't go through the switchboard?"
"Yes, it does."
"What about the phone in Nancy's office?" I asked.
"I'm afraid that's a standard interoffice phone," came Jerry's reply.
I was shaking my head as I continued, "Nancy, I know it's going to be a tremendous hardship on you, but I'm afraid you'll have to work out of my office, the rest of the week."
Nancy gave a fairly melodramatic sigh, accompanied by touching the back of her right hand to her forehead, "I'll do all I can to make best of a bad situation, Miss Drake."
"I know you will, Nancy."
Everyone was chuckling, as Nancy and I lightened the mood. We discussed several other subjects before adjourning the meeting, and we went different directions.
Bob, John, and Susan, joined Jerry and I for a world-wind tour of the plant. Nancy set to work on the checklists. Bill and Ron went to accounting to see what mischief they could get into. Gerard got the information from Jerry and made the call to the aircraft rental agency, as well as checking on things at home.
It was pushing 4:00 pm when we got into the cars and headed for the Hilton, with so many people coming to see me, I didn't want to be late. When we arrived at the Hilton, I went into their restaurant and asked for the manager. He was very pleasant and once I explained what I wanted, he was very happy to help me out. I provided him with billing information and he gave me a small stack of gift cards.
When we were shown to the conference room, it was much larger than I'd anticipated, but it did have the option of being divided into two rooms. I asked Jerry what it would take to have the dividers put into place, giving us access to both rooms. Jerry disappeared and a few minutes later he and four men from the hotel, appeared. They opened a large panel and started moving the dividers into place. While all that was going on, Nancy and I got to work, writing a brief note on each gift card. Then I signed each gift card.
By the time Jerry and the hotel’s crew were finish, with the wall, the first of our guests started to arrive. At 5:00 pm, I stood in front of the small gathering, there were just over thirty people in attendance; mostly men, but there were several smartly dressed women.
"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and welcome," I opened. "I'm Darla Anne Drake and this is Paper Manufacturing 457, How to compete with an overly dominating competitor. If that isn't the class you signed up for, you're in the wrong place."
After the laughing died down I continued, "That's how quite a few of my professors start each class at the beginning of each semester, it assures that someone isn't in the wrong class by mistake and I wanted to make sure that everyone was here for the same reason. Obviously, my associates and I are here representing Piermont Paper. I'd like to go around the room and have each of you introduce yourself and identify what company you represent."
They started hesitantly, but eventually almost everyone identified themselves and what company they worked for. I noticed there were two in the back that weren't saying anything and appeared to be taking notes.
Bob noticed the same thing, leaning over he quietly asked, "What about the two in the back?"
"Take our guys back there and see what's going on," I whispered back.
Bob took Jerry with him down one side of the room while Bill and John went down the other side.
While the guys went to investigate I continued. "Second, I want to thank each of you for coming, I realize I extended the invitation to be here on very short notice. I hope that none of you were terribly inconvenienced. As a token of my appreciation I have something for each of you."
Standing, I started handing out the gift cards. "These are good for dinner, here at the Hilton's Restaurant, for you and a guest. You’re free to use them tonight, or the next time you're in Portland."
As I was explaining, I saw Bob taking a note book from each of our unidentified guests. They then stood and were escorted out the rear door.
"Is everything under control, Bob," I asked.
"It is now, but apparently our secret meeting isn't a secret anymore," Bob replied.
"I take it that those two gentlemen were -"
"From Alliance Paper," Bob confirmed.
"Is anyone else spying for Alliance?" I asked bluntly, as I finished handing out the last few gift cards. There were no admissions or faces that displayed any sign of shock or terror, so I could only assume there were none.
"I wonder how they found out about this little get together," I asked rhetorically. "Oh well, I guess since the cats out of the bag, we might as well get on with our discussion. We all know that Mr. Robert De Forrest has been using some legal but decidedly underhanded tactics, with the obvious intention of driving everyone else, in the Northwest, out of business. I'm sure that everyone here knows that last January I purchased four plants. At that time Bobby called me and wanted to know my intention concerning any other purchases. I told him that I didn't have any plans for additional acquisitions at that time. We also discussed the futility of deliberately targeting a competitors customers with the intent driving the competitor out of business. I realize that is part of the corporate rules of the jungle, just not one that I subscribe to as a normal way of conducting day to day business.
"Between January and March, my office had received more than a dozen letters from individuals like yourselves, independent plant owners, offering their companies for sale. It was in March that we realized Bobby was using the same underhanded strategies against Piermont as he was using against the four companies I'd purchased in January. That was when I decided that the only way to get Bobby to resume a normal pricing structure was to do the same thing. I also decided, that if I could operate four plants at cost, I could operate more plants the same way. That's when I purchased the eleven additional plants.
"Of course, you all know about the fire at our headquarters in Brandon. We know the fire was set deliberately; we just don't have undeniable proof as to who set the fire, or whom they were working for. Now, I know that many of you have heard the talk on the streets, Alliance representatives are saying that Piermont is dead or dying. I'm here to tell you that Piermont is very much alive. We are strong and very determined to remain a competitive member of the paper industry. We've moved our headquarter operations to Jefferson City, Missouri, our replacement computer will be on line by this time next week, and other than re-staffing our headquarters, we are back to business as usual. The only real problem remaining is, how to deal with Alliance. That is why we’re having this meeting.
"Obviously, any letters offering companies for sale, went up in smoke along with my desk, in Brandon. So, if any of you sent me a letter, requesting that I contact you, would you please raise a hand."
A total of nine hands slowly went up. "Very good, now if you nine, along with anyone that came with you, would accompany Mr. Warren, Mr. Marshall, and Miss Pollock into the next room. They will collect your names, mark the location of your plant on a map, and schedule a visit by one of our evaluation teams, later this week. After that, you're finished here for tonight. Again, thank you for coming here and I look forward to visiting with each of you very soon. Would the rest of you remain here, please? I'd like to discuss with you the ramifications of a price war between Piermont and Alliance.
Twelve of the thirty-five followed Bob, Bill, and Nancy out. That left twenty-one people scattered around the room. As the group was leaving, I stood up to move closer to those that remained, inviting Susan and the rest of my team to follow. I then invited everyone to move in a little closer, I didn't want to have to talk loud.
Once everyone was seated I asked, "How many of you have been contacted by representatives from Alliance in the last two weeks?"
About half of the remaining gentlemen raised their hands.
"They didn't waste any time, did they?" I asked rhetorically. "Have they changed their offer, or is it still two million with no regard for your plant or how many acres of timber lands are included?"
"It's still the same," one owner grumbled.
"And the way they make the offer, they make it sound like they're doing us a favor," another anonymous added.
"So, are any of you considering accepting Alliance's offer?" I asked pointedly.
Everyone shook their heads and one added, "And we don't want to sell to you either."
"Great. Then this is just the group I want to talk with. How many of you would like to help me stick it to Alliance and keep your plants at the same time?"
They looked at me, then at each other, and back at me, with some of the most perplexing facial expressions I've ever seen. Even my people were looking at me funny. "What did you have in mind," someone eventually asked.
"Before I get into that, let me explain what's going to happen in the next couple of weeks. First, I'm going to buy a few more plants this week. Second, once we have the exact numbers, we'll establish ‘one price for newsprint’ across the nation, from Piermont. We'll run at just over cost for as long as it takes for Alliance's shareholders to complain about losing money. Unfortunately, there is a negative side effect that goes along with this plan."
"Yeah, US," someone complained.
"That's right, with you two going head to head there will be nothing left for us," another added.
"At least you're telling us you're going to drive us out of business," a third added venomously.
"Which is Alliance's goal, not mine," I reiterated.
"You just said that you're going to war with Alliance and that because of the price war, we'll be driven out of business," another owner stated.
"There are other alternatives, you could shut down and wait it out, or -"
"Or sell out to you? No thanks," someone interrupted me.
"Or join Piermont in a limited partnership," I finished.
"A what?" several echoed.
"A limited partnership," I repeated. "You see, if I were to ask all of you to sell your paper at the same price as Piermont, that would be price fixing, which is illegal. A price war however is legal. So what I'm proposing is this -
"I will pay each of you an amount of money and we will sign a contract the gives Piermont a controlling interest in your company. While your company is part of Piermont, you will be able to purchase your chemicals and supplies at Piermont's cost, and you will sell your paper at Piermont's price. Also, at a specified date in the future, you will buy back, from Piermont, full control of your company. Now then, I know you must have lots of questions and I'll be happy to answer them, but let's have a little organization and we'll get everyone’s questions answered. Let's start with this gentleman, here on my left, and work our way around the room."
"You said you'd pay each of us an amount of money for controlling interest, what does that mean, exactly?"
"Right, I figured that would be one of the first three questions. Very well, my plan is to give each of you four million dollars. That should be enough to appease any regulatory government agency."
"Who cares about the government, my company is worth more than eight million," one owner adamantly complained. His complaint was quickly followed by all but one of the others, all expressing the same opinions about the value of their respective companies.
Turning to the one gentleman that wasn't complaining, I asked, "I see you didn’t join in with the others, what do you estimate your companies value at?"
"Conservative estimates put it at between seven and eight million. I was actually wondering what you meant by 'buy back full control' and what that will cost us?"
"An excellent question. I think I'll answer your question first and in doing so, possibly alleviate some of the other gentlemen’s concerns. Buying back full control means exactly that. When the time is right, that would be at least one year after the price war ends, we will sign the appropriate paperwork and you will have sole control of your company, once again. The cost to buy back control will be essentially zero. You see, my plan is that the four million I pay for controlling interest will be placed into an account at your bank, and remain there untouched. The buyback price will be that four million plus whatever interest has accrued. So the cost to you, for Piermont helping to save your company, is essentially zero. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes indeed. Explained in detail it is very clear, but why?" he asked.
"Why what?"
"Why would you lay out four million to each of us while getting nothing back except standard bank interest?"
"Piermont is not South Core and Piermont is not Alliance. We do not employ underhanded methods to squash the competition. I have been known to take advantage of the situation when someone else is doing the squashing, but in almost every case, the victim was smiling when we parted company. This situation is very different. A prolonged price war between Alliance and Piermont could possibly drive several of you out of business, which as I said, is Alliance's goal, not mine. My goal is to sell newsprint at rock bottom prices and hold on, until Alliance's stock holders demand that their newsprint operation shows a profit. When that happens, Robert De Forrest will have no choice, he'll have to raise his prices and we will raise our prices to match."
"Do you really think you can out last Alliance in this price war?" another gentleman asked.
"By averaging the cost of all our plants that produce newsprint and selling at that price, to all newsprint customers, instead of as a discount to attract new customers, we'll probably have customers calling us. We haven't put together the final numbers yet, but I do know this. When Alliance acquires a plant they upgrade everything to the most modern equipment. That means they carry a large debt on each plant. Most of our equipment is older and not as labor efficient, but having a third or more of our plants debt free should make up the difference and actually allow us to run at a lower cost than Alliance is capable of, at least in the long term. Not to mention that I don't answer to a bunch of greedy stock holders; I only have to answer to my grandmother, and she's behind me."
"Grandmother?" someone asked.
"Yes, Mrs. Mable Moore is my grandmother," I replied.
"So, you're just a figure head and someone at Ameri-Moore is really calling the shots?" a skeptic on the second row asked.
"Hey, you don't even want to go there," John answered quickly. "DD has been making all the decisions since she bought Piermont four years ago and she's never asked anyone for permission. From day one, she has negotiated every deal that was made as Piermont grew. When things went wrong it was her quick thinking and resourcefulness that has made Piermont the billion dollar company that it is today. The company that has just offered to save you and your companies from being swallowed up by Alliance."
I looked at John and quietly asked, "When did we cross the billion mark?"
"Well, I may have been exaggerating just a little," John admitted.
"But not by much," Susan added.
"Well, the value of Piermont isn't the question here," I said, getting the discussion back to the matter at hand. "There is an offer before this group that will enable your various companies to survive the coming price war. The question is, do you want to discuss the details of the offer or reject the offer and take your chances?"
I sat back and watched as the various company owners looked at each other. I would normally get up to leave after a minute, but this time I waited patiently. Several of them were whispering back and forth. After about five minutes the whispering stopped and an older gentleman in the middle of the group spoke.
"It looks like I've been elected to be the spokesman. I think we'd like to hear what you have to offer."
We spent the rest of the hour discussing all of the details. Once we got past the money issues and everyone realized that they would remain in operational control of their plants, the rest of the discussion went rather quickly. Bob, Bill, and Nancy had come back while we were discussing the money issues.
A little after six pm I was forced to call an end to the discussion, so I could get to my next appointment. "Thank you all, if you will please see Mr. Warren and Miss Pollock before you leave, they will schedule a visit by one of our evaluation teams. I apologize for leaving so abruptly, but I have an appointment for a check flight in the plane that has been rented for my use this week,"
"You fly?" someone asked.
Susan giggled, "You would be surprised at what this girl likes to fly around the country."
Shaking my head, I continued, "I look forward to visiting with each of you later in the week. If any of you know of someone who wasn't here this evening, you might want to contact them and recommend that they contact Miss Pollock. I will also ask that none of you discuss this meeting with anyone outside this room. Miss Pollock will be working out of our Portland offices, Mr. DeLuca can provide you with the number. Come on Suz, we've got a plane to catch."
Susan and I hailed a cab to take us to the FBO office, on the ‘private plane’ side, of the Portland Airport. They were a little hesitant to give me the keys that they were holding for the President of Piermont Paper Products.
"Does that happen very often?" Susan asked, as we were walking toward the Ameri-Moore hangar.
"It doesn't happen very often, but it does happen occasionally. After all, how many 17 year old company presidents are running around?"
"You've got a point there. Maybe you should carry something that identifies you as the president of Piermont Paper."
"I always have my driver’s license and my pilot’s license. We also have our passports, although, I seldom carry mine with me. Speaking of my pilot’s license, have you considered getting yours?"
"I've been seriously thinking about it, ever since you got yours. That way I wouldn't be dependent on someone else to get me from one inspection site to another. I don't think I need a plane as big as - - Oh my stars, is that it?" Susan stopped and was staring ahead.
I turned in the direction that Susan was staring and realized what had caught her eye.
"Yes. That's my Gulfstream."
"He did a great job, it looks just like one of your notebooks," Susan said, as we started walking again.
"Blame that on our fleet manager, Victor Roskelley. He's in charge of painting, registration, insurance, and so forth, for all of Piermont's vehicles."
"I like it. It's kind of cool."
"You think it’s cool?"
"Yeah, I do. I definitely makes your plane as unique as you are."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, you're a one of a kind, being a corporate president at 17, I'm sure that paint job makes your plane a one of a kind."
"I hadn't thought of it that way. Maybe we'll keep the paint job."
"I would, if it was me. So where is the plane you're flying around in, this week?"
"It's just on the other side of flower power one." I replied as we walked under the tail of the G1.
"Oh, that's cute."
"It is, isn't it? I've never paid attention to what different manufactures are making, because I was looking for a corporate size plane. Although, I kind of like the looks of this Beechcraft King Air," I replied, as we circled the plane.
We finished our exterior tour at the door, on the port side. Unlocking and pulling the release lever, I lowered the door, with the attached stairs and allowed Susan to enter first.
"WOW, this is really nice," Susan exclaimed, as I entered the aircraft.
"You're right Suz. This is almost as nice as Grandma's jet," I added.
"I tell you what sis, you get me one of these, and I’ll get my license before we go back to school."
"What do you mean, if I get you one of these?" I asked.
"Well, I'm traveling all over the country doing the inspections, and you're the VP of Examinations and Surveys. So as my boss, don't you think I deserve a bonus?"
"Is that the best you can do, at trying to butter up the boss?" I asked, with a giggle.
Just then, we heard a vehicle pull up alongside. Looking out the open doorway, we saw a large gentleman, getting out of a black Chevy Suburban.
"Hello," I greeted as I stepped down from the aircraft, with Susan right behind me.
"Good evening, ladies. I'm Cliff Davidson, I'm a flight instructor with Portland Air Service. I was asked to accompany the president of Piermont Paper Products on a check flight. Is he in the plane?"
"Here we go again," Susan said, sarcastically.
"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Mr. Davidson asked.
"No, there's no problem," I replied. "It's just that the President of Piermont Paper isn't a he, he's a she."
"I don't understand." Mr. Davidson looked confused.
"Mr. Davidson," Susan began. "Allow me to introduce Miss Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper Products, a division of Ameri-Moore."
"You're the president and you know how to fly?" he asked, pointing at me.
I nodded, in response to his first question. To answer his second question, I produced my pilots license.
"Darla Anne Drake," he read. "Rating - land - multi engine. You're certified in multi engine, what do you usually fly?"
Susan giggled and pointed towards Flower Power One, on the others side of the King Air.
Mr. Davidson looked where Susan was pointing, cocked his head to the right, and while wearing a cockeyed grin asked, "What is it?"
"That's the Gulfstream I purchased last fall. Our fleet manager thought it needed - um, character," I explained.
"Is that what you call it, character? Well, whatever makes you happy I guess. So, if you own that, why are you renting this King Air?"
"We have fifteen plants scattered across five states, here in the Northwest. I'll be visiting each of them during the next two weeks. The G1 is needed elsewhere so, unless I want to drive everywhere, I need another plane to get around in."
"Fair enough. Shall we get started?"
Susan and I boarded the King Air followed by Mr. Davidson. Susan selected a plush seat in the main cabin while I went into the cockpit and sat in the left seat. Mr. Davidson followed me and sat in the right seat.
We went over the instrument locations because they were different than I was accustomed to. Then we went over the pre-flight checklist. Exiting the aircraft once more, Mr. Davidson and I started through the checklist with the exterior items. After once again boarding the aircraft, I closed and latched the door. Upon completion of the checklist, I started the engines and let them warm up, for a few minutes.
After taking off, Mr. Davidson gave me directions and we flew to a small airport outside of Silverton Oregon. Once in the pattern, I shot four touch and go’s. I had just lifted off, for the last time, when Mr. Davidson told me I was a competent pilot and he asked if he could take the controls. There was something about the way he said that, ‘I was a competent pilot’ that didn't feel like it was a compliment, but I let him take the controls.
Mr. Davidson brought the plane around for another touch and go, but he didn't reduce speed or lower the landing gear. He dove at the runaway like an Air Force pilot attacking a ship, at sea. With the landing gear up, he shot along the length of the runway at twenty feet doing two hundred miles per hour. At the end of the runway, he pushed the throttles to the limits and pulled back on the yoke.
As mother earth quickly disappeared from view, I looked over at Mr. Davidson, commenting, "Nice."
Susan wasn't so impressed, she called out, "Darla Anne, what on earth are you doing?"
"It's not me, Suz," I called back. "Mr. Davidson is showing me what this plane can do."
"Well, when he's finished showing off, can we go back and get my stomach?"
Laughing, I replied, "No problem, Suz."
Mr. Davidson took us out over the Pacific, as he put the plane through its paces. I had never seen a plane do some of the things he did, and made comment to that effect. Mr. Davidson informed me that the aerobatics he performed were mild compared to the performances by other pilot's at the, yearly, Reno Air Races. After setting a heading that would take us back to the Portland airport, he returned control of the aircraft to me.
We landed safely in Portland and pulled up next to the G1, almost exactly where we started from. Fortunately, we didn't have to return to Silverton to retrieve Susan's stomach. We found it in the rear of the plane hiding under a blanket, which was a good thing, because we were having dinner that evening with Grandma. Mr. Davidson graciously gave us a ride to the FBO office, where we were able to call a cab.
The ride to Mr. Fevrier's restaurant, was about twenty minutes, where we've eaten many times. We were surprised to see him filling in for the Maitre’ De Maison.
"Miss Darla, Miss Susan, it's so good to see both of you again," Mr. Fevrier greeted us. "I haven't seen you for so long, I was afraid you were no longer happy with my humble establishment."
"Oh, not at all, Monsignor Fevrier," I assured him. "I come here at least once, every time I'm in Portland. I've just been so busy elsewhere, that I haven't been in Portland for several years."
"Of course, I am only kidding, Miss Darla. Shall I prepare your usual table?"
Both Susan and I giggled, remembering when we were seated at the table reserved for special guests. "Not today, Monsignor Fevrier. Today were dinning with Mrs. Moore and her party." Susan informed him.
"Very good," he replied, as he checked his schedule of reservations. "Mrs. Moore has reservation for 8:00. They haven't arrived yet, but you are welcome to wait at the table, if you wish."
"That sounds like a splendid idea," I replied.
Mr. Fevrier escorted us to a table set for six and one at a time pulled out the chairs to seat Susan and me. Then he snapped his fingers and a waiter appeared to take our drink order.
Susan and I were discussing the requirements for getting her pilots license, when the waiter brought our pot of tea. Shortly after the waiter left, we heard Grandma's voice.
"Hello, my darlings. I'm so glad you could make it." Pausing to give us a hug, she continued with the introductions of Jonathan Roberts and Lee Sherman.
After everyone was seated and had ordered their meals, Jonathan asked, "Mabel, I didn't realize that we were in negotiations for a buyout of my company?"
Grandma and I looked at each other, questioningly. Then we looked at Jonathan, and Grandma asked, "Why Jonathan, whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well, Mabel, the word on the street is, that if you're invited to dinner and 'DD' is present, a buyout is on the horizon."
"Mr. Roberts, I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about a buyout," I started to explain.
"And besides, we haven't operated that way in years," Grandma continued. "Nowadays, I simply send Darla out to perform an on sight inspection and if she thinks it's a good deal, she'll buy the company on the spot."
I looked at Grandma, surprised that she would say something like that.
Surprising me more, Susan's added, "That's my little sister, miss spontaneous."
Seeing the smiles on both their faces, I turned and addressed Mr. Roberts. "It appears that we are both victims of their amusement. By the way, what business are you in?
"I run a modest logging operation. The best trees I sell to your grandmother, she's always paid me top dollar for the best I have. The lesser grade trees go to a paper company."
My interest was instantly piqued. "And, which paper company would that be?"
"Alliance Paper. We ship to several of their plants in Oregon."
"That's interesting. Can you tell me how much Alliance is paying for logs, or do you do the chipping as well?"
"We do the chipping and I guess how much they pay us wouldn't be considered an industrial secret." He then went on to tell us about their operation, along with the price structure they had with Alliance.
During dinner I learned a lot about Mr. Roberts’s operation. I found it interesting that they were getting twenty percent less for their chips, per ton, than Piermont will be paying Ameri-Moore, at cost. I also discovered that they weren't really happy about their dealings with Alliance and the way Alliance keeps forcing the price down.
Over dessert I asked, "Mr. Roberts, are you under contract to Alliance, to provide a specific number of tons per week, or per month? Or do they call and place an order when they want more chips?"
"No, no contract, at least not any more. Ten years ago we had a contract, but when it came time to renew, they said they'd prefer a different arrangement. Today we have, what I guess you would refer to as an understanding. We send five truck loads a week, to each of the plants we've been servicing, and send them a bill monthly. The problem is, every year they complain about needing to cut costs and subsequently reduce the amount they're willing to pay for the chips. They've whittled the price down by one to two percent each year, since the contact expired. If it weren't for Mabel paying so well for top grade oak and maple, I'd have been bankrupt years ago. Some of my friends have gone out of business and Mabel acquired their timberlands fairly cheaply.
"How would you like to make an additional ten percent per ton, for your chips?
Mr. Roberts casually asked, "Why would Ameri-Moore want to buy wood chips?"
Susan piped up, saying, "Mr. Roberts, you really need to get out more."
"Jonathan, Darla is not only my VP of Examination and Surveys, she's also the president of our paper products division, Piermont Paper," Grandma informed him.
Mr. Roberts sat up sharply and grinned. "You mean - we could make an extra ten percent, by selling everything to Ameri-Moore, and not have to deal with Alliance and their tantrums. Where do I sign up?"
"Well, you wouldn't be selling to Ameri-Moore, directly. You'd be dealing strictly with Piermont as far as the wood chips are concerned," I corrected. "We have several plants in the area and I'd very much like to secure an additional supplier, as we ramp up production. If you have a business card, I'll have my VP of Purchasing and Procurement, Tom Harris, get in touch with you."
I received several cards from Mr. Roberts, as we were leaving the restaurant. Of course, we stopped to thank Monsignor Fevrier for the wonderful food and excellent service.
"You setup that meeting, didn't you Grandma?" I asked, once we were in the cab, heading for the Ameri-Moore apartment.
"Yes." she replied, simply.
"So you already knew What Alliance is paying for their chips?"
"No, I just knew that Jonathan sold to them," she admitted. "But, with the information we just acquired, we may want to examine our sales and price structure. It appears, we may be over charging our customers."
"So, it's okay if I buy chips from someone else?"
"If you can get a better price, by all means buy from someone else. It will make your division more profitable. Sometimes, an independent can undercut a large company. As I've said before, you have a real knack for cutting through the chaff and coming up with the prize. I'm eager to see what next June will bring."
"What's happening next June?" Susan asked.
"Just a little surprise," I replied.
"Hopefully a resurrection," Grandma added.
Susan looked at me with a puzzled expression.
We dropped Grandma off, then Susan and I continued to the Embassy Suits for a good night’s sleep.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 5
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 5
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Tuesday, July 11, 1972
The day started with an early breakfast for all. We'd arranged for several tables to be pushed together, so we could all eat together and go over a few last minute details. Susan and I, being such early risers, arrived first, but not by much. Within fifteen minutes of our arriving, everyone else had been seated. While we ate, we went over the details and assignments. The only major change was, that I wanted Bill to join my team, in the King Air. I had Jerry take over as the VP in charge of team two. That would technical leave them one accountant short; so I had Jerry bring his regional accounting supervisor.
During breakfast, I slipped Mr. Roberts business card towards Bob. He looked at the card for a moment, then asked, "I remember Mr. Roberts from when I was with the wood products division, are we buying a lumber company now?"
"No," I replied. "But, I have arranged to buy chips at ten percent below Ameri-Moore's cost."
"How in the world did you arrange that?" he wanted to know.
"It was easy. I just offered them ten percent above what they are getting from Alliance," I answered with a smile.
"Wait a second - that means Alliance is getting their chips at twenty percent below Ameri-Moore's cost. How can they be getting chips at that price?"
"Let's just say that Bobby De Forest doesn't reserve his strong-arm tactics to just dealing with his competition. He is just as ruthless and unfair with his suppliers."
"If that's the case,"
"Exactly," I interrupted Bob's train of thought. "When the word starts to circulate among the independent loggers, that we're pay more than Alliance, Tom will be turning loggers away. Not to mention that Alliance will lose their supply of cheap wood chips. They'll have to go out on the open market to find new suppliers."
"Bobby is going to be very upset with us."
"Yes he is, but if he had stuck by his word and not gotten in our way, we wouldn't be going to war."
When the chartered bus arrived at the airport, everyone scrambled for their luggage and boarded their designated aircraft. Flower Power one was the first to lift off, with Bob and his team. Mike took to the skies a few minutes later, in the Rutland Transair G1, with the three remaining teams.
Even though the commercial planes were on the other side of the airport, and used the larger of the two runways, air traffic had picked up rapidly. I waited thirty minutes on the taxi way, before receiving clearance to proceed onto the active runway and take off. As we were lifting off in the King Air, heading for our first destination, Susan thanked me for not trying any of Mr. Davidson's aerobatics. I smiled to myself and told her it was still early in the week, there would be lots of opportunities to test out the airplane's capabilities.
When we arrived at our first plant, Bill and John jumped in to help with the inspection. I was surprised at the efficiency of team one. Between them and the help from Bill and John, they were finished in a record time of ninety minutes. After I had their reports, I spent fifteen minutes with the owner. With the letter of intent signed we were on our way, our giant game of leapfrog was off to a great start.
We managed to get to all eight plants on Tuesday. We flew on to our next destination, before stopping for the night.
Wednesday, July 12, 1972
We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, to give team one as much time as possible, and them we set off to visit our first plant of the day. After arriving and introductions were out of the way, Bill and John went to help with the inspections and I had a chance to chat with Bob about the previous day, while Susan sat quietly in the background, listening and learning.
"So tell me boss, how is the balance, are we buying more than we're partnering with?"
"It’s hard to say right now, this is just the beginning of day two. If yesterday is any indication, five purchases and three partnerships, we are going to be doing a lot of growing in the Northwest. I hope Jerry is up to the challenge."
"I think he'll do okay. We may want to free him up from his plant manager duties, because he'll have so many plants to oversee."
"You may be right. As it stands, right’s now the region has twenty plants of our own, plus three partner plants and those numbers are going to grow before the week is over. I'm considering having you be responsible for the partner plants."
"Me? Don't you think Jerry can handle the job?"
"I was thinking more along the line of the unique challenges they will represent. Also, the fact that in about a year’s time, they will be going away. Besides, I think Jerry will have his hands full, just keeping track of our twenty to twenty-five plants."
"All good points, I guess we'll have to think about it. When do you plan to announce the organizational change?"
"I'll let Jerry know the next time I see him. I'll announce it to everyone else at our weekly meeting, a week from this Friday. Something else for you to think about, who are we going to put in charge of the Northeast region?"
"I've been thinking about that, I think it might be time to move Mike Turbill up a notch or two."
"The question is, does Mike want to learn to fly?"
"What does flying have to do with it?"
"At this point in time, with so many plants in each region, with everything spread out so far, and with headquarters in Jefferson City, having a pilot’s license is going to be a requirement of all our VP's."
"Darla even thinks I should learn to fly," Susan interjected.
"Considering the number of locations you inspect, that makes a lot of sense," Bob reply. "What about Matt and John?" Bob asked me.
"We'll have to think about Matt's situation. As for John, he's on board and I've given him some books to study. He should be ready to take the written test in a couple of weeks. I've also told John he would have his own plane. As VP of Production Engineering he will be traveling more than anyone else."
"You're probably right about him needing his own plane. Any idea what sort of plane he'll want?"
"No idea yet. I only told him about his needing to fly and about picking a plane on our way out here, last Sunday. I did limit his choices by specifying it must be propeller driven and have room for six to twelve passengers plus tools and parts. We'll see what he comes up with. I think I'm going to get me a Beechcraft King Air as my personal plane. They are almost as nice as the Ameri-Moore jet."
"I thought you were going to get one for me to run around in," Susan said.
"Sounds like I need to check out that little puddle jumper the next time were on the ground together," Bob commented.
"Puddle jumper? You make it sound like an open cockpit, biplane," I replied, with a smile.
"Now, one of those would be fun to fly, just not across the country," Bob exclaimed.
Before I had a chance to reply, John and Bill showed up with their reports. After hearing the reports, Bob went to collect his team, while Susan, John, Bill, and I went to talk with the owner. Negotiations went as expected, the plant was in very good condition and the equipment had been upgraded six years earlier. There was a loan balance of one point five million, so Alliance would only pay five hundred thousand for the plant. The owner was ready to retire and was just hanging on, hoping for something better for himself and his people. They figured that anything would be better than a sale to Alliance. Because the equipment was so new, I offered four million, minus the existing loan and he immediately accepted. Twenty Minutes after signing the paper work, we were lifting off, bound for our next inspection and negotiation.
Once we'd leveled off, Susan came up behind me to talk. "Darla, I'm trying to figure something out. The plants you bought yesterday, you didn’t offer anything over three million. The plant we just left, you're giving him four million. What's was the difference?"
"There were three things that made the difference, Suz. First, the overall condition of the plant was better. Even though he knew the end was near, he was proud of his plant and the products they produced. Consequently, he always kept the plant in top condition. Second, the equipment was newer than the plants we saw yesterday. Again, that goes back to being proud of his plant. Third, he was concerned for the welfare of his people, that's why he hadn't even considered Alliance's offer, they don't care about the people of a company they buy. Alliance moves their own people in and they layoff most of the existing work force."
"So you're saying you paid him the extra million, as a reward for being better than average?"
"I guess that's one way of looking at it."
"It's like the bonuses DD gives out at Piermont," John added. "She rewards hard work and loyalty."
"I guess that makes a little more sense, but why would you be rewarding him? He didn't work for you."
"That's true, but he has been working hard all his life, only to have everything stripped away by Alliance. Because of his level of commitment towards his plant and people, I can be a little more generous and give him back a little more of what he's lost. If it weren’t for the pressure from Alliance, and if that plant were being sold on the open market, it would be worth about seventeen million, so at four million, I got it for a song. Obviously, I don't do that every time, only when I think the situation warrants it."
Susan appeared to understand and returned to her seat.
We had just gotten to our cruising altitude, after our third plant for the day, when Bob called on the radio. We exchanged the formalities, call signs and FAA requirements, and then got down to business.
"What's your position seven two niner? Over."
"We just left Coquille Oregon, heading for Elkton Oregon, at an altitude of twenty-four thousand feet. Over."
"Understood seven two niner. Need to see you urgently at my location. Repeat. Need to see you urgently at my location. Please divert to Roseburg, Oregon. Upon arrival in Roseburg airspace, take a heading of forty five degrees magnetic, for about thirty minutes. You will find a grass airstrip running Southeast to Northwest. You will find November Two One Six Piermont Paper, at the Southeast end of the grass airstrip. Understood? Over."
"Understood, Two One Six. Divert to Roseburg, take a heading of zero, four, five, degrees magnetic for thirty minutes. Is one of our people injured? Over."
"Negative, seven two niner. No injuries, but urgent you arrive ASAP. Over."
"Ten-four, Two One Six. Now in-route to Roseburg. Will see you soon. Lima seven two ninner Alpha Romeo, over and out."
"What do you suppose that is all about?" John asked.
"I haven't a clue. But I'm glad we topped off the tanks before we lifted off," I replied, as I pushed the throttles past eighty percent.
Forty minutes later, we were in a search pattern, looking for an unmarked grass airstrip. Ten minutes more and we were circling a grass strip, and several very large structures, looking for Flower Power one.
"There she is!" Bill called out.
"Terrific, we're in the right place. Anyone see a windsock?" I replied.
A gentle wind was blowing from the West, so I circled again and set up to land, Southeast to Northwest. As we were taxing back to where the G1 was quietly waiting, I saw Bob and another gentleman crossing the expanse between the G1 and the structures, beyond.
After we'd stopped, Bill opened the door as I was completing my shutdown checklist. Bob was there and boarded, once Bill and Susan had gotten off.
"Well, this is nice," Bob said, as he made his way to the cockpit. "How does she handle?"
"She handles very nicely, smooth takeoffs, easy to land, without making anyone suffer through a bouncer, and plenty of power when it's needed. But, you didn't invite me here to talk about airplanes, why the urgent call?"
"The urgent call is because of the gentleman that owns this plant. He wasn't at our meeting, Monday. He says several of his friends called him, suggesting he should talk with you. Then after you set up partnerships with three owners yesterday, two of them called and sang him your praises, in a manner of speaking. The thing that has me concerned is, his mysterious actions."
"What do you mean, mysterious actions?"
"Well, he won't let our inspection team into the plant, they're just waiting in a conference room. He won't talk to me about his business, insisting that he'll only discuss it with you. In fact, he won't even give me his last name, or the name of the company. I was going to write it off as a hoax, but he insists that everything will become clear after he talks with you."
"Where does he want to meet with me?"
"His office. All it says on the door is President, no indication of who he is."
"Well, after everything you've told me, I have no intention of meeting with this gentleman alone. Bob, I want you and John to stick with me like Siamese triplets. We'll leave Bill and Susan in the conference room, with the rest of our people, and then we'll have a chat with Mr. Mysterious. By the way, who is it that escorted you out to meet us?"
"That's Ralph Watson, he's the plant manager here."
"Well, let’s go meet Mr. Mysterious."
We left the plane and I was introduced to Mr. Watson. ‘No, no jokes about Dr. Watson.’ Arriving at the plant, we stopped at the conference room and talked with our team for a few minutes.
We heard an enthusiastic "Come in." in response to Mr. Watson knocking on the President's office door.
We were greeted cheerfully, as a gentleman of about sixty something came around the desk. "Good afternoon and welcome. You must be Miss Drake, may I call you DD?" he asked as shook my hand.
"Of course. And you are?"
"Just call me Greg," he replied. "And who is this young man?" he asked, extending his hand to John.
"John Fahey, my VP of Production Engineering," I introduced.
"I can see that you don't believe in traveling lite, a VP and an Executive VP," Greg commented sarcastically.
Agreeing and carrying it a little further, I added "Not to mention our VP of Finance, Bill Marshal, and my sister, Susan. We left them in the conference room."
"My, my. It sounds like you've got most of your executives up here, in the Northwest. Who's minding the store?"
"Well, Greg, when you've got fifty-seven plants, there's always someone willing to play 'Boss for a Day'. So now that were all here, what can we do for you?"
"Well, DD, I'll tell you. I'm on the downhill slide of being just past seventy. I've been working in one paper plant or another since I was eighteen. I've been running the show since I was twenty-five. I'm getting tired of chasing the other rats around the track. I'm getting to be more and more forgetful, and I'd like it very much if you would buy my company."
"That's a long time to be wrapped up in paper," I sarcastically replied. "But why do you want me to buy your company?"
"I've been looking to retire for some time, but there just aren't too many around that can absorb an eighty million dollar company, especially here in the Northwest. I've been keeping track of your escapades since you started helping your Grandmother, and I've been pleased with what I've seen. I have to say that, I’ve been extremely impressed by your actions the last couple of days. You've repeatedly demonstrated a generous nature when dealing with people who've seen their world crumble down around them due to an unscrupulous competitor. But the deciding factor is, the way you've stepped in to help the independent owners keep their companies, while you and Alliance slug it out."
"May I ask where you got your information?" I asked suspiciously.
"From my son-in-law. He called me yesterday, after you two worked out a partnership arrangement. He told me you believe in a moral code that is much higher than the one adhered to by Alliance. He was very impressed with you and suggested that you might be the person to take over my company, so I can retire."
"Wouldn't your daughter and son-in-law be looking to inherit this company?" Bob asked.
"We've talked about it, they're determined to make it on their own. Of course, I did give them one plant as a wedding present, ten years ago," Greg said, with a chuckle. "They were doing really well and would have opened their second plant by now, if it weren't for Alliance trying to run everyone else out of business."
"Do you have any other children?" I asked.
"Yes, three boys. But with their attitudes, I wouldn't leave the business to them. They believe that instant gratification and underhanded tactics are the way to operate a business. The three of them . . ." He paused, took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, then continued. "They're working for Alliance." Greg bemoaned the loss of his sons, as if they were dead.
"My father taught us girls that hard work and honesty would, in the long run, be the best characteristics to develop."
"He is absolutely right."
"Well, Greg, how much are you asking for your company," I asked, getting back to the business at hand.
"If it was anyone else asking that question, I'd answer flat out forty million. I've got a standing offer from Alliance for six million." ‘Right there I knew that there was more to this company than this one plant, even though this plant is larger than Franklin and larger than the plant in JC.’ "But for you DD I'm prepared to offer you the whole company, lock stock and assets, for the bargain basement price of fifteen million. I do have one stipulation though."
Sliding forward I asked, "And what would that be?"
"Only that we wrap everything up by the close of business on Friday."
"Friday?" Bob asked surprisingly. "That’s not possible. We have to check the books, verify the title for all the real property. It will take at least two weeks to get all of that completed."
I was just offered an eighty million dollar company for fifteen million, I wasn’t going to let something as trivial as paper work stand in my way. As I struggled to contain my enthusiasm and control my heartbeat, I asked, "Might I inquire what would be included with the sale of the company?"
Greg picked up his phone and asked his secretary to bring in a red box, from the vault. A few minutes later a woman entered carrying a red metallic box, that looked like it was designed to hold a dozen file folders vertically, and set it on Greg's desk. Greg thanked her and pulled some keys out of his pocket as she left.
Greg opened the box and removed a folder. "Let's see now, here is the deed for this plant and the chipping facility that's a mile up the canyon, not to mention the dormitory’s and the other buildings next to the plant, and the four thousand acres that all of that is sitting on." After reading off the generic description he placed the deed face down on his desk. "Here's the deed for the hundred-twenty thousand acres of timber that feed this plant." Again, face down on his desk. "Here's the deed for the plant near Glide, Oregon, it's sitting on six-hundred forty acres. And, here's the deeds for the timber lands that fed the Glide plant, they total about hundred thousand acres. Next we have the deed for our plant outside Walden, Oregon. She's sitting on five hundred acres of ground. Oh, and here's the deeds for timber lands that fed the Walden plant, also about a hundred thousand acres." Pausing, he looked into the box and removed a smaller folder.
"Let’s see, what else do we have for the lucky winner - oh yes, here is the deed to the warehouse in Eugene."
"Warehouse?" John asked.
"Yes. This plant is so remote it’s hard to get trucks in and out through the narrow canyon roads. It just so happens that there’s a rail line running through the canyon, so we move all of our finished products by rail to a warehouse in Eugene for distribution. That worked out so well that we bought a bigger warehouse so we could handle shipping and receiving for all three plants out of one location."
"How large is the warehouse?" Bob inquired.
"It's a million square feet with the capacity to load or unload fifty trucks at a time plus ten rail cars. Let's see, what else do we have to put on the trading table. Oh yes, I believe you'll really appreciate this, here is the deed to an estate in Spokane Washington. Oh, currently the estate is occupied."
"Occupied, by whom?" I asked.
"By my younger brother. I figure he's been free loading long enough. Maybe you can get some rent money out of him, he's never paid me anything and he's been living there for about twelve years. Besides, you might find the situation interesting, with you being his landlord. I think that covers all the real property," he said, a little absent-mindedly. Pulling yet a third folder from the box he continued. "There's a small fleet of trucks that are considered company assets, I don't keep track of each truck - the guys at the warehouse take care of them along with the ten company cars. Here's the title for the Cessna 206, and the Piper Navajo, also for my Beechcraft King Air."
"I don't want to take your plane," I offered.
"Now, now, it's a company asset. It was purchased with company funds and is maintained by the company. Besides, I just barely squeaked by on my last physical, I doubt I'll pass the next one."
"A company this size and you have three planes?" John inquired.
"Three?" Greg echoed. "I did read off three, didn't I? Where's the title for the other one?" he asked rhetorically, as he looked in to the bottom of the box.
Looking up he had another piece of paper, "I forgot about this one, here's the deed for the hangar at the Eugene airport. But the title for the other plane is missing."
Reaching for his phone, he called someone. "Lou, this is Greg. Do you know where the title is for the plane that Pete Sorensen used to fly?" "Uh ha," "Yes, I've looked there." "I know that's where it should be, but it's not there." "Lou, I know it's been four years since anyone has looked for the plane or the title. Please look through your files, to see if the title is hiding down there some place and send someone to the airport to make sure the plane is in the hangar." "Right, Lou." "Well, we might have a buyer for the plane, if we can find the title and the plane." "That sounds great. Give me a call when you know more." "Okay, thanks Lou."
"I don't know where it is, but we'll find that plane and the title. It is an asset and will need to be transferred along with the rest of assets and equipment," Greg apologized.
"What sort of aircraft did Pete Sorensen fly?" I inquired.
"It' another King Air. We upgraded both of our planes at the same time. Pete was my exec VP, he left us four years ago and I’ve just never replaced him. The other planes were used by the other plant managers. I used to have executive meeting here once a month and the plant managers flew in. They got the Cessna and the Piper when Pete and I upgraded. There isn't enough room in the hangar here for all four of them, so Pete's was stored in the hangar in Eugene."
As Greg was talking I looked over at Bob. He smiled and nodded ever so slightly. I'd been calculating things in my head, the whole time. I felt that I needed just a little more information before jumping blind into a pool of alligators.
"Greg, before making a decision I'd like to know a little more about the plants. Can you tell us what is currently being produced at each of the three plants?"
"Sure, I inherited the other two plants, plus the one I gave my daughter and son-in-law, from my father, when he passed away. We built this plant fifteen years ago and installed two new complete lines, one running Kraft paper and one running white paper. Being so remote from any local cities or towns, we knew that commuting would be a problem, so from the beginning we planned for the employees to stay on site. We built the first dormitory when we built the plant. In the beginning we ran one twelve hour shift, seven days a week. We implemented the usual scheduling for twelve hour shifts - first shift running Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and the second shift running Thursday, Friday, Saturday, with each shift alternating Wednesdays. Some of the employees didn't like the fact that on their days off they'd only be home for a day or two before they had to come back. They proposed a different schedule, which sounded reasonable, so we put it to a vote. The proposed change was almost unanimously accepted, and six months after we went online we changed to running Wednesday through Tuesday, twelve hour shifts."
"Wednesday through Tuesday, you mean they work seven days in a row?" Bob asked.
"Yes," Greg answered simply. "Then they have seven days off, while the other shift works their seven days."
"Hmm, that's an interesting schedule," Bob commented.
"The group that made the proposal called it having twenty-six weeks of vacation a year. As I said, that was shortly after we opened the plant, fifteen years ago. Five years later we added a third production line, another white paper line. Then, five years ago we made plans to add a fourth line that was to run computer paper. Before that line was ready to run we decided to shut down the other two plants. It was then that we decided to run this plant round the clock, seven days a week. That enabled us to retain almost seventy-five percent of the people from the other two plants. So, right now we're running four lines twenty-four seven and over the course of the last four years we've installed twenty-four bag making machines."
"You said you've shut down the other two plants?" I asked. I was thinking that this deal may not be as good as it first appeared.
"Yes, they are both newsprint plants, the plant in Glide has two lines and the plant in Oakridge has three. We got tired of playing Alliance's games and decided to get out of the newsprint business. There's a slightly higher profit margin in chemically treated paper, so we've been doing pretty well in that market."
"I see. John, it took us eight months to overhaul the three machines in Franklin, with a crew of six engineers. If we brought in a crew of say ten engineers, how soon do you think we could bring those plants online?"
Greg answered before John had a chance, "Seventy-two hours."
We looked back at Greg. "What?" I asked.
"If you've got the people to run them, those two plants could be online and producing paper in seventy-two hours. They may be shut down but they aren't abandoned. Every six months we send in a team of engineers and operators. They clean, lubricate, and run each machine for twenty-four hours. The equipment may not be brand new, but it's all in mint condition."
"Really, that's excellent." I paused for a moment, debating how to proceed. "Greg, normally we would sign a letter of intent and have a closing after the accountants and lawyers do their thing. However, you want to close by the end of business on Friday, which makes things a little different. On the other hand, I'm getting the same feeling about you as I had about Matt Piermont, when I bought Piermont Paper four years ago. So, I 'm going accept your purchase price of fifteen million if you'll accept a slight variation on my part. That is we'll pay you ten million on Friday and sign all the paper work. The remaining five million would be paid in thirty days, after the lawyers and accountants do what they do."
Greg thought for a few seconds before answering, "I know that the books are accurate and there are no liens or judgments, but the accountants do need a reason for beings here, don't they. As for the lawyers, sometimes I think we be better off without them, but I guess they are useful from time to time. I suppose waiting thirty days wouldn’t cause any problem, after all it’s just a formality, therefore I accept your proposal, DD," with that said, Greg stood and offered me his hand.
I stood also, taking Greg's hand I replied, "Thank you, Greg."
To which he replied, "De Forest."
I stopped shaking hands, but didn't release Greg's hand, "I beg your pardon."
"Gregory De Forest, of De Forest Paper."
"Any relation to -" I asked Greg.
"He's my young brother."
I let go of Greg's hand and sat down smiling. Then I started to chuckle as I understood everything. As the final details crossed my mind I started laughing heartily.
When I'd regained control of my laughter, John asked, "What's so funny."
"We just agreed to purchase De Forest Paper out from under the nose of Robert De Forest, because he's using the same underhanded technique as South-Core. Push them over the edge and then graciously offer them peanuts to buy them out. Not only did we buy De Forrest Paper, but we also bought the very house that Bobby lives in. Tell me Greg, how did the estate become part of De Forest Paper? I'm assuming that was where you grew up."
"Yes, that's the family estate, it was built by my grandfather. I'm third generation lumber and paper. When our father died, being the oldest, I inherited the estate and three plants in Oregon, Bobby got the plants in Washington. Bobby did okay with his plants, but he wanted more and was always looking for the quick buck. Twenty years ago he sold his plants to Alliance for a tidy profit and an upper management position, and the rest of his story is, as they say, history. As for the estate being part of De Forest Paper, that was done for tax reasons. After we built this plant and got to know the people here, my wife wanted to help with the children, so we moved into one of the larger apartments. Our sons already had places of their own, so with the estate empty Bobby asked if he and his family could live there, I figured why not. I didn't figured he would turn evil and try to cheat me out of everything."
"There are children here?" John wondered aloud.
"But of course there are children here," Greg replied. "You put men and women into the same working environment, add to that sleeping in the same apartment buildings, and naturally romance and children will find their way into the mix. I've lost count of how many families we have living here, not to mention how many families were started here. Naturally we had to set up daycare facilities. We even have a school set up for kindergarten through the eighth grade."
"Greg, am I correct in assuming that you don't want Robert to know about this until after everything is signed, on Friday?"
"That's correct. If Bobby heard you were here he'd be in that big red Lockheed Constellation of his, before his snitch could put the phone down. And he doesn't believe in leaving his plane at the end of the airstrip, he taxis right up next to the building with all four engines, of that monstrous plane, at eighty percent throttle. The few times he's visited he woke everyone that was off shift, not to mention all the children that were napping."
"I thought as much. That being the case I was wondering if you have eight guest rooms available, in your dormitory. So that way my people could stay here while they complete their assessments."
"I'm pretty sure we can accommodate your people, let me make a call and verify that. Eight rooms was it?"
"That's correct."
While Greg was on the phone, Bob asked, "Why eight rooms, there are only seven on my team counting me?"
"Because the accountants will need to do a more in-depth assessment and I'm sure Bill will want to be a part of that. You know how he loves to dig into moldy old records."
"That he does, it's almost an obsession with him," Bob agreed, with a chuckle.
"What about me," John asked. "Should I stay to help with the engineering assessments?"
"No, I still want you with me looking over the other plants. We'll want your input when it comes time for the realignment of products to plants."
Greg finished his call, as we finished our little discussion. "As I thought, there's no problem with the accommodations. They won't all be on the same floor, but they'll be comfortable."
"That's great," I replied. I then asked Greg if he would familiarize Bob with the operations of the King Air, to which he readily agreed. Leaving the King Air with Bob, I would take Flower Power 1 to continue my hoping around the Northwest. I'm sure that Bobby's informants have told him what I've been doing and that Piermont's airplane has been seen hoping around. By my taking the G1, it will prevent people from thinking I'd stopped in one place too long. The last item of business was to arrange someplace for Bob to work, some place that had a dedicated phone line. As it turned out, Pete Sorensen's office was still empty and had a dedicated phone line. Bob would be able to make all the arrangements for closing on Friday, without alerting anyone within the plant, or anyone outside the plant.
With the major details in place, we went to the conference room and informed everyone that it was time to get to work. From their response, I'd say they were excited, sitting around doing nothing is extremely boring.
"Can I have your attention?" I called out, to be heard over the noise of their excitement. "I need to explain a couple of things to everyone. First, we’ve already agreed to purchase this company so you won't be doing your normal 2 hour evaluations. Instead you'll be doing a 2 day in-depth evaluation of both the equipment and the accounts. For you engineers, there are 3 plants that we'll need complete equipment assessments on."
Bill raised his hand.
I knew what he was going to ask, I smiled as I continued, "Yes Bill, you'll be staying to oversee the evaluation of the records." Bill dropped his hand and his smile was big enough for 2 faces. "Okay, second point, this plants is quite remote so there aren't any motels close by. Because they're so remote they have several dormitories for their people to stay in, while they're on shift. We've arranged for rooms in the dormitories for all of you. So, after we're finished here we need everyone to get their luggage out of the planes. We need to get you settled in before you start your evaluations. Third, and this is the most important! What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. The name of this company is De Forest Paper. The owner is Robert De Forest's older brother Gregory. Now, Greg doesn't want Robert to find out about this sale until after the paperwork is signed, Friday afternoon. Therefore, nobody is to say anything about a buyout, or purchase, and especially never say the word Piermont. If anyone asks, you work for an outside firm and you are conducting an evaluation for an insurance company. Now, I know that that's more than just a little white lie and under normal conditions I would never ask that of any of you. However, these aren't normal conditions and the request came from Gregory. Any questions?"
There were no questions, just some smiles, head shaking, and some chuckling.
"All right, let's get the luggage and get you settled."
Mr. Watson had the room assignments by the time everyone returned with their luggage. Once everyone was settled Bill and the accountants descended upon the accounting department, like a hawk on a field mouse, the rest of our group headed to the plant floor. Once there, John and the engineers started their in-depth inspection routine, while Greg, Bob, Susan, and I toured the rest of the plant.
To say we were impressed, would be putting it mildly. Even though Greg was third generation, this was not another Appalachian take over. Everyone in the plant was busy and hardworking, they obviously took a lot of pride in their work and the products they produced.
We didn't go out to see the chipping operation, but we did see where the chips were delivered to the plant, via a long conveyor belt. Greg explained that with everyone living at the plant, at least during their seven days on, the chipping operation had to be some distance from the plant. After several years of trucking the chips in, they determined it would be more cost effective to install conveyors. The bark and other waste matter that was used to feed the pulp furnaces, were also brought to the plant on conveyors.
Once we finished looking at the plant, we went over to the living quarters for a better look see. The buildings were attached to the plant by a wide covered walkway for easy access, year round. The walkway opened into a large, circular, open space. The ceiling, which was two stories up, was about forty percent skylight. Greg escorted us to the center of the space where he proceeded to point out the amenities. Proceeding counter clockwise, there was the new cafeteria, the entrance to apartment block three, the band stage, the entrance to the infirmary, the entrance to apartment block two, the daycare and school, the entrance to apartment block one, and the old cafeteria which they had remodeled into an upscale restaurant, for those special evenings.
Three hours later Susan, John, and I arrived in Elkton with a cover story of problems with The King Air. Along with a sad story of stranding Bob and his team in a little town, near a remote airstrip, waiting for the rental company to make the repairs. After touring the plant and negotiating another partnership, I called Nancy to learn the location of my next appointment and to pass on that Bob's team would be out of the rotation for the rest of the week.
We only managed to get to five plants on Wednesday. At least five that we're willing to talk about.
We did better on Thursday, we toured and concluded negotiations at seven plants.
Friday, July 14, 1972
Friday morning I called the dedicated phone that Bob was using to get an update on the progress.
"Well DD, this is the fastest we tried to push something like this through, but I think it's all coming together. Our bank sent their papers via courier yesterday evening. The lawyers should be finishing the legalese this morning. The courier from our bank should have dropped off their paperwork yesterday evening. By noon everything should be in the hands of your secretary, at the Ameri-Moore headquarters in Portland, waiting for you to pick them up and bring everything back here for the signing."
"That's great, Bob. I'm constantly amazed by the way you can pull a few strings and all the details fall into place."
"Thanks boss. I've had more fun in the last four years, than I had in the previous ten. I've never for a moment regretted asking to stay on at Piermont. And the next few hours should be exciting."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because, I've never signed a check for ten million dollars before."
"A check?"
"That's what Greg wanted, a cashier’s check. The bank wouldn't allow that size check with only one signature, so we both have to sign it."
"That's going to be a first for me too, Bob. I’ll see you about 2:00pm. I've got two plants to visit this morning and then I'll head for Portland."
The two plants we saw Friday morning, were nothing special. Both owners went with the partnership option, I'd offered. That made nine new acquisitions, plus De Forest Paper, which made it twelve new plants, thirteen plants in partnership agreements, and five that I had not visited.
Upon arriving at Ameri-Moore headquarters, to collect the paper work for De Forest Paper, my shared secretary told me that Mrs. Moore wanted to see me. Slipping next door, I spoke briefly with Grandma's secretary before she informed Grandma that I was there and was told to go right in.
"Hello sweetheart," Grandma said, as I entered.
"Hi Grandma,” I replied, as I crossed the office. I gave Grandma a hug, and said, “I didn't expect to be back here so soon."
"You're always welcome to come spend some time with me. So tell me about this deal that had to close in two days."
"We were trying to keep it very hush, hush. How did you hear about it?"
"From the legal department. They were a bit upset when Bob called and told them how fast you needed the paper work completed. I told them, that if you needed something rushed, they should rush it and have it ready for you. After all, how often have you made such a request? So tell me, what's the deal and why the rush?"
"Well, you know Robert De Forest?"
"I suppose that goes without saying, of course I know him. Not personally you understand, but I know of him."
"Do you know his older brother, Gregory De Forest?"
"Like Robert, I know of him, not much more than that."
"Well, Greg owns De Forest Paper and apparently there is quite the rivalry between the two of them."
"You mean Greg is selling De Forest Paper to you and not his brother?"
"Exactly. Not only De Forest paper, which has three plants, there are also three-hundred seventy-five thousand acres of timber lands, and a million square foot warehouse in Eugene. The company also owns four airplanes and an estate in Spokane, Washington."
"Spokane? Isn't that where Alliance's North American headquarters is?"
"Yes it is."
"So this estate is -"
"Where Bobby lives. It has been the De Forest family home for three generations."
"Oh my. What on earth are you going to do with the estate?"
"Piermont has no use for it. We don't have anything in the Spokane area. Would Ameri-Moore have any use for an estate in Spokane?"
"No, we don't have anything in the immediate vicinity."
"I guess we'll just sell it off. If Bobby want's it, he can have it, for whatever the appraised value is."
"So, the urgency of closing in two days?"
"Is to have everything signed before Bobby hears about it. Greg says that Bobby would fly in yelling and screaming, if he caught wind that we're buying De Forest Paper. But how could I refuse that kind of deal, an eighty million dollar company, for fifteen million. Even though I know that Bobby is going to be hopping mad, I couldn't walk away from a deal like that."
"I understand, and it’s understandable that Bobby is going to be upset. If you're going to get all the paper work signed today, you'd better get going."
"Yes, I'd better take off, literally. Grandma, are you busy this afternoon?"
"Busy? I'm always busy, it's just a question of what I'm busy with. Why?"
"I thought you might like to come along, just for the ride."
"That's a tempting offer, dear. I've been cooped up in this office most of the week. However, if I were present at the closing, some people may think that I'm running Piermont, and we wouldn't want to give anyone that idea."
"You're right grandma, as usual. We'll go flying some other time. By the way, I'm getting a new plane."
"Another one?"
"Actually, I'm going to keep one of the planes we're getting with De Forest Paper, as my personal plane. It's a five year old Beechcraft King Air."
"I've heard of those, but I've never seen one."
"They're a very nice looking little aircraft. Twin turboprop engines, with a very plush interior, for such a small aircraft, and it’s just about as fast as Piermont's Gulfstream 1."
"I look forward to seeing it. I assume you'll be keeping it at the ranch?"
"Yes, it will be at the ranch, during those rare occasions when I'm there. I'll have to do a little sweet talking to get Auntie to build another hangar. I'd better get going. Susan, John, and Jerry are waiting for me. Oh that reminds me, what would you think of Ameri-Moore getting a plane for Susan to use for her inspection tours? She likes the King Air as well."
Grandma had a look of surprise on her face. So I quickly added, "Just something to think about. I'll see you later Grandma." And with that I left her office and headed back to the airport.
We touched down gently on the grass airstrip and I brought the G1 to a stop at the side of the hangar, instead of in front. I didn't see Robert De Forest's plane anywhere, at least as Greg had described it. I was hoping our little secret was still a secret and would remain so for at least a few more days.
We made our way to Bob's office for a conference, before meeting with Greg. Both Bob and Bill had done a superb job in collecting information about De Forest Paper. There were no outstanding loans or leans, AP's were up to date, and AR's were within the expected normal range for our industry. The engineers had plenty of time to go over all the equipment thoroughly. They were pleased to report that everything was in top condition, exactly as reported. Bob had enough forethought to have two checks prepared, one for the ten million, as we had agreed on, on Wednesday, and one for the full fifteen million, just in case everything checked out. I was very happy with the work that everyone had done and with their results. Only one matter of business remained, the meeting with Gregory De Forest and close the deal.
Greg and Mr. Watson met with Bob, Bill, Jerry, Susan, and I in Greg's office. "Good afternoon, Greg," I said, after being admitted.
"Welcome back, DD. I hope you're here with good news and I see another guest," Greg replied.
"Yes indeed Greg, very good news. Also, I'd like to introduce Jerry DeLuca, our Northwest region VP. This is who Mr. Watson will be reporting to, in the future. How about you, Greg, do you have good news to share?"
"Most certainly. We found the other King Air. She was in the hangar, right where she was supposed to be. The title was being held by the mechanic that we’d used from time to time. It seems there was some work done on the plane, just before Pete Sorensen left the company. Somehow the bill must have been misplaced, because it was never paid. The mechanic was holding the title, instead of putting a mechanics lean on the plane. I'm not sure how he got the title, but that's all been squared away, he's been paid, and we have the title. We've requested and paid him, in advance, to bring all the FAA inspections current. The plane should be ready to fly next Wednesday, or Thursday."
"That is good news, and how about the appraisal on the estate in Spokane?" I asked.
"The appraiser finished about an hour ago. He called to give me a verbal report." Greg passed me a sheet of paper with lots of notes. "The official report will arrive next Tuesday, with the rest of the weekly mail."
"Are you sure you don't want to keep the family estate?" I asked.
"Not at all. After living here for the last fifteen years, with the peace and quiet that Mother Nature provides, my wife and I can't stand the noise of the city. When Grandad built the place, it was way out of town. Over the years Spokane has grown and grown, now the estate is on the edge of what is considered downtown. The wife and I have an island in the Puget Sound. We're far enough out to not be bothered by the noise pollution, but close enough for a weekly run for supplies, by boat. The grass airstrip is long enough for the King Air and I think possibly your Gulfstream, but certainly not Bobby's Constellation."
"It sounds like you have everything in place for a relaxing retirement."
"Just one thing missing, would you be so kind as to fly us to our island, Sunday morning?" Greg asked.
"We'd be happy to," Bob replied, with a smile.
"Great. Now, what have your people found out?"
I nodded towards Bob and he started the report of our inspection team's findings, "Our engineers reported that all of the equipment, both here and at the other two plants, are in top condition. The only exceptions are the conveyor belts, that transport the chips to the plant. Your engineers indicated that new belts have been ordered."
"Actually, they are at the warehouse in Eugene. We just haven't had them sent down," Mr. Watson reported.
"Wonderful," I commented, and continued. "So, obviously nothing is a-miss with plants. Bill and his team have been through your books, with a fine tooth comb and have found nothing there that would cause us to be concerned, Bob was even able to get most if the titles checked, everything there is also clean with no leans. Therefore, we are ready to sign the contracts and transfer ownership to Piermont, with one slight change to the arrangement we agreed to last Wednesday."
"And what might that be?" Greg asked suspiciously.
"Well, Bill and his team managed to do in two days what would normally take two to three weeks. So, with all that they've accomplished, we're ready to close and convey to you the entire purchase amount of fifteen million, instead of ten million now and the remaining five million in thirty days. Assuming of course, that you're prepared to accept the full fifteen million."
Greg was chuckling softly as I spoke, stopping moments after I'd finished. "Yes, I think I can handle taking the full fifteen million. It will be a great hardship, but somehow I'll manage."
"I guess, all that's left to do is sign some documents."
I removed the prepared documents from my briefcase and passed them to Greg. He and Mr. Watson took their time going through them, before Greg started signing anything. When Greg was finished he passed the documents back to me. I then signed the various places where my signature was required. By the time Bill had finished signing and applying his notary seal, Bob and I had signed the cashier’s check and exchanged paper work with Greg.
"DD, it's been a pleasure doing business with you," Greg said, as we shook hands.
"The pleasure is mine," I replied. "I must admit that I feel just a little guilty about only paying fifteen million, for a company that is worth so much more, but you set the price."
"Yes I did, but like I said before, that price was only to you because I know that you'll take care of my people. You will take care of my people, won't you?"
"I don't know about your people, but I can assure you that I have always tried to take good care of my people."
"Being that the company is now in your hands, I suppose they are your people, so I'll trust you to take care of everyone. I guess as a finally act, as President of De Forest Paper, I should have my secretary send out a memo announcing the sale to Piermont."
"I'd suggest you wait until Sunday to send out that memo. I don't know how news travels around this part of the country, but around Brandon the purchase of another company was one of the hardest secrets to keep. I'm almost surprised that your dear brother Bobby hasn't mysteriously appeared," I cautioned.
"I suppose you're right about that, corporate secrets are hard to keep secret. I'll leave the memo with Mr. Watson, he can distribute it on Monday. I suppose there won't be a need for a president’s private secretary, after today."
"No, I'm afraid not. We will try a find a place for everyone that is displaced, due to the change in ownership," I assured Greg.
"Just how many are you talking about?" Mr. Watson asked.
"I'm not exactly certain, most of the accounting functions will be merged into our accounting department at the regional headquarters, in Portland. There will be a need for a few accountants here, but the tasks will change somewhat. Sales will be merged into our regional office as well. Although, we also have an outside sales force that work from their homes. Some of the sales staff might be suited to join that group. We try to find a spot for anyone whose job is eliminated. Not to mention the fact, when we bring the other plants online some of the work force here may desire to return to their home towns, creating some openings" I further clarified.
"So there won't be any layoffs?" Mr. Watson asked.
"I can't promise that, but like I said, we try to be as accommodating as we can, in finding jobs for anyone who is displaced and wants to work."
"What about . . . management?" Mr. Watson inquired further.
"We will bring in a temporary management team. Their job is to learn how this plant operates and to evaluate the existing management team. If the current management team is competent and hardworking, they'll be left in their current positions," Bob explained.
"Sounds like a reasonable approach. All of my management team worked their way up through the ranks, so I'm sure that you'll be happy with their performance," Greg stated.
"It's a system that has worked well for us over the years. I know of other companies that simply move their own people in when they take over. However, we've had great success with our approach and we have retained some very valuable and talented personal along the way," Bob added.
"Mr. Watson, One last item before we head out. If the younger Mr. De Forest should stop by, be sure to give Mr. DeLuca a call. He'll know how to get in touch with me," I explained.
"Absolutely Miss Drake."
With our immediate business concluded, we loaded everyone into the G1, or the King Air rental, and headed for Portland. Thursday morning I had called Rick Landis and moved our meeting from Friday to Saturday, I wanted to spend Friday evening with our inspection teams. I had Nancy find a nice restaurant, with a private dining room, for a congratulatory dinner. After everyone had enjoyed their fill of Prime Rib, with all the trimmings, I stood and gently tapped my, unused, wine glass.
"I just want to take a few moments to thank each and every one of you for the incredible job you've done over the last four days. Some of you may not be fully aware of what we have just accomplished. However, when the word gets out about what we've done, the entire paper industry will sit up and take notice, Piermont Paper is moving onward and upward." I paused until the applause died down. "For those of you who haven't kept track, let me bring you up to date. We've signed 'Letters of Intent' to purchase ten single plant companies." Another pause. "We've signed contracts and entered into a partnership agreements with thirteen companies." More applause. "And last but not least, the coup-de-gras! Many of you are aware that inspection team one suddenly dropped off the face of the Earth for two days, now that the papers are signed, I can tell you why. Wednesday morning, Nancy received a phone call, and rerouted team one to a remote plant in central Oregon. The next time I was in the air, I received a radio call from Bob, requesting that I join him. Everything about the company was very secretive, we didn’t even know the name of the company and the name of the owner, it turned out there was a good reason. In spite of the secrecy, the negotiations proceeded quickly and we agreed to purchase the company, with one stipulation on their part, that all the paper work be signed, and the transfer of funds be completed by the close of business today. We now own two additional newsprint plants, one with two, and the other with three, forming machines, plus another large plant producing chemically processed paper, with four forming machines, and a bagging operation, that makes Concord's look small. In addition to the three plants we acquired a one million square foot warehouse, almost four-hundred thousand acres of timber, an assortment of vehicles, and some other assets. An impressive acquisition you must agree, and now the reason for the secrecy.
"The owner of the company didn't want his younger brother to find out about the sale, until everything was finalized. He didn't want to get into another argument about how a business should be run. I'm pleased to announce, that as of this afternoon Piermont Paper has purchased the De Forest Paper Company, lock, stock, and trademark. The younger brother is none other than, the North American, Division President, for Alliance Paper International, Robert De Forest." There was a moment of silence, before the applause started, along with some laughter and cheering.
After the cheering died down, I continued, "We don't know as yet what ramifications may follow, but I'm sure someone is not going to be happy. In the meantime, most of you will be returning home in the morning, and I wanted to thank you all for your hard work. I hope you enjoyed your meal and I'm sure you'll enjoy having a paid day off when you get home, so you can spend the time with your families and loved ones. You've all earned it." Once more, I had to pause for a round of cheering. "However, there are still five sites to look over, so I'm asking two teams to remain here, so we can finish what we've started. I've asked Bob Warren to remain, along with his team, as well as Jerry DeLuca and his team. Both those teams will get paid time off when they return to their families. If you're on one of those teams, but have a pressing need to return home, get with your team leader and we'll make arrangements to trade people around. Thank you again, and have a safe trip home,"
Being that I had most of my VP's in Oregon, we held a short meeting after everyone else had left the dining room. "Gentlemen, it has been an exciting week," I started. "The next few months should be just as exciting, if not more so. Bill, we'll need you and your accounting teams, working round the clock, to get us the numbers we need. Knowing the cost per plant and average costs, are now your number one priority."
"We have most of that already and should be able to put together the final numbers by the end of next week," Bill confidentiality replied.
"That will be great, Bill. Ron, Gerard, you'll need to contact the management personal from your regions that will be temporarily assigned to the new plants, as soon as you get back. I'd like three management teams from each region in JC, ready to lift off at 8:00 am, a week from Sunday. Bob, you can contact the folks in the Northeast by phone, from here, or it can wait until Wednesday from your office."
"You don't want to have our people in place sooner?" Bob asked.
"That would be nice, but logistically, I think a week from Sunday is the earliest we can get you home, spend some time with your family, and be ready to leave again," I replied.
"I suppose my wife and kids would like to know what I look like," Bob added sarcastically.
"Ron, I'd like you to come back up at that time, to help me ferry our new airplanes back to Owosso and JC. I'm not sure which plane to leave here in Portland and which one to take to Owosso. Jerry, Gerard, you two get together and decide who gets the Cessna 206 and who gets the Piper Navajo. While we're on the subject of airplanes, I'll let all of you know of a decision I've been wrestling with making. Due to our company being so spread out, I've decided that all of the company’s Vice Presidents will be required to have their pilot’s license."
"All VP's?" Bill asked.
"Yes Bill, even you. As VP of Finance, I think you should be doing an on-site inspection of each regional office every six months."
Over the next hour, we discussed several topics, before I adjourned the meeting. Everyone had a full day scheduled and would need their sleep.
"Well Susan, do you still think that what I do is more luck than logic?" I asked, as we settled into bed.
"I don't know, sis. You do collect as much information as you can, before making your decisions, but I still think there's a lot of luck and magic involved."
"After spending a week with me, you still think its more guess work, than logical decision making?"
"I wouldn't put it that way, exactly. It's more like watching a magician performing. To the magician, everything makes perfect sense, but those watching are still mystified."
"Well thanks, Suz. It does sound better that way. I guess it helps to have Grandma adding to my reputation, pretty soon everyone will think I’m a magician. So, are you going to stick around for the weekend and go with us on Monday, or do you want to get back to the inspections?"
"Oh my, hang around with my sister and watch her perform magic, or go off on my own and make sure everyone else is working. That's a tough choice to make," Susan said sarcastically. "But, I've always enjoyed watching a good magic act."
I smiled, as I came up with a suitable reply. "Ladies and gentlemen, for my next trick I will blot out the sun, leaving our small corner of the world in complete darkness," as I reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.
"Nice build up sis, but the sun went down a couple of hours ago."
"We are in darkness, aren't we?"
"Good night, Darla."
"Good night, Suz."
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 6
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 6
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Chapter 6
Saturday, July 15, 1972
We said farewell, then watched as most of our people headed for home aboard the rented G1. Then I took Bob, John, and what was left of our gang to Tony's for breakfast; finally we got some good French toast.
Next on the agenda, call Gregory De Forest.
"Good Morning Greg."
"DD, is that you?"
"Yes it is. I apologize for calling so earl. Bob and I were thinking of making a trip or two your way, to ferry the Cessna 206 and the Piper Navajo back here to Portland."
"That's fine, come by any time you'd like. Dave Watson has the keys. I'll let him know to expect you."
"Greg, as Bob and I were discussing the King Air, we wondered if moving it was the right thing to do, at this time. I guess the real question is, how much luggage or cargo do you want flown up to your island? Don't get me wrong; we're not trying to set a limit. We just want to make sure we have enough aircraft to do the job."
"Right now, I can't answer that question, my wife is still packing,” Gregg replied, with a little chuckle. “We did decide that we're leaving most of the furniture here; the house on the island is completely furnished, anything we take from here will be excess. Of course, there are all the little personal touches that make the apartment home."
"I know exactly what you mean, Greg. I'm guessing, from this conversation, you'll need more cargo space than what one King Air is rated for. So I'll keep the King Air, that we’ve rented, for a few more days."
"What about that Gulfstream of yours?"
"You know, we were thinking about that, but you weren't sure if the runway on your island was long enough. I can't tell you how mad I'd be at myself, if I flew her in and then couldn't take off."
"I do see your point, DD. I'm sure there will be more cargo than one King Air can handle. I don't know if we'll exceed two or not."
"I guess that's a close enough for a guess. If we need to make two trips, we will. Well, we'll see you a little later, Greg."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Turning to Bob, after I'd hung up with Greg, I said, "Being that we're keeping the King Air, we'll take it down to pick up the other two planes."
"It's too bad we don't have another pilot up here, then we'd only have to make one trip," Bob replied.
"Another pilot, I wonder if he's available." I mumbled, as I reached for the phone.
"Hello." came the usual response, as the phone was answered.
I recognized her voice and gave the customary reply, "Hello Grandma."
"Darla Anne, is that you?"
"Who else calls you Grandma?"
"Well, there's Judy, Mary, and Susan."
"You have a point there, but how many of them sound like me?"
"You are indeed one of a kind. So, is there something I can do for you?"
"Well, being that you're at the apartment, does that mean that Captain O'Toole is available?"
"All the planes that you have at your disposal and you want to use the jet?"
"Actually, I'm only interested in Captain O'Toole as a pilot, I don't want the jet. Bob and I want to bring the two smaller planes up from De Forest paper, so the mechanics can look them over next week. If we had another pilot we'd only have to make one trip, down and back. Of course you're welcome to come along for the ride."
"I think I'll pass on the plane ride, my dear, I get plenty of those. As far as Captain O'Toole’s services, I don't believe he's flying anyone today, although he may have some personal plans. I'll have him call you and you two can work things out."
"Thanks Grandma, love you."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
Less than fifteen minutes had passed before my phone started ringing.
"Hello."
"Hello, is Miss Darla Drake there?"
"This is Darla Drake. Captain O'Toole?"
"Yes ma'am. Is there something I can do for you?"
"There is, I'm in need of an extra pilot."
"An extra pilot?" he asked.
"Exactly. You see, we purchased a company yesterday, which has four small planes as part of their corporate assets. One is in Eugene being serviced and bringing its FAA inspections up to date. The other three are at the company headquarters, they're in a remote area, in central Oregon. I want to move the two smaller planes up to Portland so the Ameri-Moore mechanics can go over them."
"It takes two to fly the company jet."
"Oh, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. The airfield is grass, so taking the jet down is out of the question. We've rented a Beechcraft King Air that I’ve been using to hop around the Northwest all week. We were planning on taking the King Air down. I have Bob Warren with me, and we could make two trips. However, if you’re available, there'd be three pilots for the three planes, flying back, thereby needing to only make one trip."
"Now I understand. Unfortunately, my family and I have plans for today, we were just leaving when Mrs. Moore called."
"Oh, I'm sorry for intruding on your time with your family."
"Oh no, you're fine Miss Drake, I'm always happy to help. So you just need a pilot, for a few hours. I know some people who might be available. What would they be flying?"
"Either a Cessna 206 or the Piper Navajo, perhaps the King Air. We really haven't decided who would fly what on the return leg of the trip."
"They're all fun little airplanes. Let me make a few calls and I'll see what I can set up."
About 5 minutes later the phone rang, naturally I answered, "Hello."
"Miss Drake? This is Captain O'Toole."
"Yes, did you find me a pilot?"
"Well, I was wondering, what is the configuration of the King Air you're flying? That is how many seats are in the cabin?"
"There are 6 seats in the cabin and of course, 2 in the cockpit, why?"
"How many are going on your little trip?"
"Bob Warren, my sister Susan, and myself of course. Why?"
"Well, I've talked about you so frequently, at home, that my wife would like to meet you and your sister. Then there's this thing about me flying all over the world and my children have never been flying. So I was wondering -"
I knew what was coming and interrupted, with a giggle, "Say no more, captain. Your family is more than welcome to join us. How many children do you have?"
"Three, 2 boys and a girl," he replied. To his family, I heard him say, "We can all go." After which I heard the cheering of little voices in the background. "Miss Drake, where is the plane?"
"It's tied down in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar."
"Terrific, I think I can find that. What time do you want to leave?"
"About an hour from now, say 10 o'clock?"
"We'll be there, Miss Drake. Thanks again."
"My pleasure, captain. See you in an hour."
"Well, we have our third pilot, and what should be some very giggly passengers." I informed Bob and Susan.
"We should stop on the way and get some snacks for the kids," Susan suggested.
"Maybe some gum, to help their ears pop," I commented. "We'll be at the plant around lunch time and we can eat in the cafeteria. I wonder what's on the menu."
"I didn't know Capital O'Toole had children," Bob added.
“I guess everyone has a surprise or two that aren’t common knowledge,” I replied. Susan smiled and nodded.
We arrived at the planes with 10 minutes to spare. Moments later a sky blue, Chrysler, station wagon pulled up next to the Ameri-Moore hangar. Even without the captain's hat, that he normally wears, I recognized Captain O'Toole. I assumed the others in the car were his family. It didn't take long for 3 excited kids to herd their parents to where we were waiting.
"I want to thank you again, Miss Drake. I haven't seen the kids this excited since last Christmas," Captain O'Toole said.
"Now that's enough of that, Captain. We're happy to have your family along. Now then, who is everyone?"
"Oh yes, introductions, how thoughtless of me. Everyone, this is Miss Darla Anne Drake," the captain started, pointing to me. "Her sister, Miss Susan Drake, and Mr. Robert Warren. This is my wife, Margaret. This young man is Patrick Jr, he's 12. And, this is Walter, he's 9. And this little princess is Melissa, she's 6."
"6 and a half, daddy," Melissa corrected, looking up at her father.
Captain O'Toole smiled as he bent down to snatch his daughter around her waist. He lifted her easily and swung her around once before gently cradling her in his arms and kissing her nose. "My apologies Princess, she's 6 and a half."
"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Darla and you too Miss Susan," Margaret quietly greeted. "Patrick has told us so much about your travels over the years, it almost seems like you're part of the family. And the kids have thoroughly enjoyed the cakes and pies you've sent home with him."
While her mother was talking, Melissa was tugging on her daddy’s shoulder. "All right, Princess, what do you want?"
"Can we go for a ride in that airplane? It's pretty," Melissa exclaimed, while pointing at Piermont's G1.
Susan giggled, Bob smiled and shook his head, slightly, while I softly sighed.
"That is a pretty airplane," Margaret replied to her daughter, gently lifting her from her father's arms.
"I don't think so, Princess, I don't know who owns that . . . airplane. Wait a moment . . . it looks like. Umm, Miss Darla, isn't that the Gulfstream 1 you purchased last fall?"
"Yes, that's our G1," I replied.
"May I ask, why did you paint it like a flower garden?"
"That was Stan Roskelly's idea. He's our fleet manager," I answered.
"That's actually a blown up copy of the MoPaper, Flower Power notebook," Susan added.
"Of course, it is. I recognize it now," Margaret declared. "The kids love the colorful MoPaper notebooks and Melissa just loves the pads with all the colorful paper. Sometimes she goes through a pad a week, with all of her little art projects."
"So, can we go for a ride in the pretty airplane, Daddy?" Melissa asked, craning her head around to look at her father.
"I don't know, Princess. You'll have to ask Miss Darla, it's her airplane."
Turning to me, the excited 6 and a half year-old asked, "Miss Darla, can we go for a ride in your pretty airplane, please?"
"Well, I was planning on taking this little airplane," I replied.
"But, it's not as pretty," Melissa complained.
Smiling I reached out and gently tweaked her little nose, "Okay, because you asked so nicely, we'll take the pretty one. Just for the Princess."
"Yippee!!!" she squealed.
I rummaged around in my flight bag, as I walked over to Flower Power one, and pulled out the keys. Operating the release, the door with stairs swung down.
"All aboard," I called out.
Without any hesitation, the three kids climbed aboard. The first step was a bit of a stretch for Melissa, but with a little help from her mother she managed to get up and in.
As Susan passed by she said, "You sounded more like a railroad conductor than a stewardess."
"I wasn't trying to sound like a stewardess," I commented.
I followed Susan into the plane with Bob and Captain O'Toole following me. Once inside, I stepped aside and waited.
After Bob and Captain O'Toole were aboard I asked, "So who's going to fly the out bound leg?"
I must have caught both gentlemen off guard because neither of them said anything.
"Being that you had the keys, I assumed you'd be flying the G1, Bob finally admitted.
I looked at Captain O'Toole, "Captain, you never availed yourself of the opportunity to check her out in Brandon. Care to take her up?"
"I've never flown a G1 before," the Captain started to say.
Interrupting, I countered, "I'm sure Bob would be happy to ride in the right seat, on the way down. I'm pretty sure he's logged more hours in her than I have."
"If you're sure," the Captain replied, with a broad smile.
"I tell you what, Captain. Why don't you lift off, so you can get the feel of her, and then turn it over to Bob. Then you can sit with your wife and kids, for a while. When we're getting close, you go back up and set her down," I suggested. "We'll decide who is flying what, when we're ready to come home."
"That's a great idea, Miss Darla," the Captain agreed.
"Works for me," Bob concurred.
Smiling, I handed Captain O'Toole the keys, they went forward and I went aft, to sit next to Susan.
"You're not flying this trip?" Susan asked.
"Sure I am, just not right now. We haven't decided who will be flying which plane, coming back to Portland. Captain O'Toole will take off and land, to gain experience with the G1. Other than that, Bob will do most of the flying going down. That way Captain O'Toole can come back here and sit with his family."
"That's nice. Your idea?"
"Yep, and this way I'll have some time to think about what to tell Rick Landis this afternoon."
"Rick Landis, isn't he that crazy reporter that was hounding you for an interview a couple of years ago. Why would you want to talk with him?"
"Yes, that's him. Even though he was a pest, he hasn't printed anything that wasn't true. He exaggerated a bit, but he was always truthful. The way Bob and I figure it, Robert De Forest is going to be hopping mad about what we've just done. We also figured, that the only way to keep De Forest from retaliating, is to go public.
“We're going to give Rick all the information we have about Alliance's underhanded operation, without committing perjury, or saying anything that they can sue us for. We'll explain about the price war being forced upon us, what we're doing to stay alive as a company, and how we'll put an end to the price war, resuming our normal pricing just as soon as Alliance declares a stalemate."
"Stalemate? Don't you want to win the war, force them to admit defeat?"
"Susan, nobody wins a war. It doesn't matter if it is a price war, an economic war, a war between neighboring countries, or a world war, nobody wins, there are only losers. Some may lose less than others, but everyone loses something. I just hope that Robert De Forest doesn't drag it out too long, just because his pride is hurt."
"Are you going to tell Rick that you suspect Alliance of torching your headquarters?"
"No. We don't have any proof, and saying anything along those lines would open us up to a libel suit. I can tell Rick that the investigation team, have released their findings, they have declared the fire to be arson. Now the Vermont state police and the insurance company will try and determine just who set the fire. I can also pass on the names of the plant owners who were being pressured to sell, by and to Alliance. Several have agreed to talk with Rick and to tell him what the Alliance reps were saying about Piermont."
"That should make for some interesting reading, Darla."
"It should indeed. Especially knowing how much research Rick puts into his stories before they go to print."
About ten minutes after we were up to our cruising altitude, Captain O'Toole came back to sit with his family. He was surprised to find them all chewing gum. Susan had passed it out before they'd even started the engines.
Captain O'Toole had a hard time staying away from the cockpit for too long, thirty minutes after he sat down he was back up and heading forward. As is his custom, about twenty minutes before landing Captain O'Toole called back to us, requesting that our seatbelts be fastened. As we dropped through the cloud cover and leveled off, I had a feeling we were in the wrong place. Where I should have been seeing trees I saw a sparsely populated subdivision. After several minutes of studying the town below us, I thought I recognized it as being Roseburg, Oregon. Feeling a little adventurous, I popped my seatbelt and made my way forward.
"Gentlemen, is there a problem up here?" I quietly asked.
"You shouldn't be up here Miss Darla," Captain O'Toole said.
"That may be, but as the president of the company, I sometimes like to be adventurous. So why are we over Roseburg?"
"We don't know exactly where on the charts, the plant is located, but we did know where Roseburg is," Captain O'Toole started to explain.
"So we decided to fly it like we did last Wednesday," Bob explained. "Fly to Roseburg, take a heading of zero, four, five for thirty minutes, and look for the plant," Bob continued.
"We just hadn't counted on such a heavy cloud cover," Captain O'Toole concluded.
"Sounds like a plan. Let us know when we should be getting close and Suz and I will help look for the plant."
Returning to the main cabin Susan asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Nothing major," I replied, as I glanced over my shoulder. "They're just lost and neither one wants to get out and ask for directions."
Susan cracked up, laughing.
Margaret had a look on her face that was somewhere between terror and disbelief.
Giggling, I corrected myself, "Actually, everything is fine, we just hadn't counted on all the clouds. In about twenty-five minutes Susan and I need to help look for the plant."
Right on schedule, they started a search pattern. I moved to the left side of the plane while Susan stayed on the right side.
Fifteen minutes later Susan called out, "I think I see it, at about three o'clock."
I quickly moved to an empty seat on the right side and found what Susan had seen. "That's confirmed. Come right ninety degrees and we should be over the plant in a couple of minutes."
We circled the plant and airstrip twice, before lining up to land, Southeast to Northwest. We turned around and taxied back down the grass strip, coming to a stop on the concrete apron, in front of the hangar. I went forward and opened the door and descended the few stairs.
The three kids came to the doorway with their mother. "Can we go play," they asked in unison.
"I don't know where you can play, you'll have to ask Miss Darla," Margaret replied.
"Of course you can come out and play. Do you see that big building and all the grass between here and there?"
"Yes," they replied.
"You can run and play anywhere on that grass," I told them.
The two boys were down the stairs and off like a shot. Melissa was slightly more reserved, as she needed just a little help getting down the stairs, but once she was standing on the ground, she was off, after her brothers, calling out "Wait for me."
The boys stopped and looked at their sister. Running again, they quickly closed the gap between themselves and their sister. As they passed her, one on each side, they lightly tapped her shoulder and called out, "Tag, you're it."
Turning quickly, in pursuit of Walter, she cried out, "No fair."
I looked at Margaret and I smiled, saying "Some things never change."
"Oh, I know exactly what you mean. My older brothers were absolute demons when we were together. But, they were sure protective of their little sister when the school-yard bullies started sniffing around."
"You've got that right. Darla Anne is the baby in our family. Only once did a bully try messing with her. She learned real fast that Darla had three older sisters," Susan explained.
"Four girls, I'll bet that made for some crazy times around the bathroom, getting really for school or a dance."
"It wasn't too bad," Susan said. "Every bedroom has its own bathroom."
"My goodness, where do you live, in a hotel?" Margaret asked.
"It's been called that, on more than one occasion," Susan stated, with a giggle.
"We've been living with our aunt since our father was killed by a drunk driver and mother was hospitalized, six years ago. She owns an oil company in Texas. Auntie sort of adopted all of us, mom included," I explained.
"That's terrible. Is your mother all right?" Margaret asked.
"She was laid up for about five months, but she's doing just fine," Susan replied.
Bob and the Captain had finished shutting down the G1 and had joined us on the concrete apron. Together we all started walking towards the plant.
It took me a moment to remember one of the details about this plant. "Margaret, around the west end of the dormitory complex is a good size playground. I'm sure that this time of day, on a Saturday, there will be lots of kids, from the resident families, to play with. If you want to herd the kids in that direction, we'll send someone to get you when it's time for lunch."
"A playground, resident families, what kind of place are you running here?" Captain O'Toole asked.
"Piermont just signed paperwork to acquire the plant yesterday, so it’s none of our doing," Bob replied. "It's so remote; commuting for the employees wasn't feasible. When they built the plant, the owners built a dormitory to house the employees, while they were off shift, but were scheduled to work the next day. In the beginning they worked twelve hour shifts, three on, four off, then four on three off."
"As time passed schedules changed and families started living here full time," I continued. "There are three dormitories now, along with a large cafeteria, a school for Kindergarten through the eighth grade, a day care for younger children, a medical clinic, and a small restaurant, if you want a special night out."
"It sounds like quite the community," Margaret commented. She then veered off, heading towards the west end of the complex, calling for the kids to go with her.
We entered the plant through the same door as the day before. As was the case from the day before; we were greeted by a receptionist.
"Good morning Miss Drake, gentlemen. Welcome to De Forest Paper. How may I help you?"
This particular receptionist hadn't been here on either of my previous visits. Naturally, I was a little concerned, thinking the secret was out already.
"You know me?" I asked.
"Oh, we've never met, but I know who you are," she confessed. "Every other Tuesday I work the front reception desk. Part of my job there is the initial sorting of the weekly mail. I've seen your picture many times, on the cover of Paper Press."
"They really need to be more creative," I said. "We'd like to see Mr. Watson. We're picking up two airplanes and he's supposed to have the keys."
"You're telling me that Miss Darla Anne Drake comes to a remote paper plant, in central Oregon, just to pick up two airplanes? Somehow I find that hard to believe," the receptionist said.
"That's correct, Miss . . .?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's Mrs. Mrs. Roberta Stolle."
"It's nice to meet you Roberta," I greeted, and continued. "Yes, our business here today is just to pick up two airplanes."
"But, Miss Drake, everyone knows that Mr. De Forest wants to retire and he's been looking for someone to take over, or buy the company. I couldn't interest you in slightly used, fifteen year old paper plant, could I, hmmm, maybe take a look around. After all, as long as you're in the neighborhood, what would it hurt?"
"Roberta, that's quite a sales pitch, and I'll keep it and you in mind. But for now, we would like to see Mr. Watson about the planes and maybe have some lunch. By the way, how's the food around here?"
"Oh, it's just great. I don't know how or where they found him, but we've got this chef that makes ordinary cafeteria food taste like you're eating at the Ritz Carlton," Roberta cheerfully informed us.
"Well, that's good to know. Now, Mr. Watson please, and I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone else we're here."
"Of course, I won't say a word and I'll get Mr. Watson for you right away," Roberta said, as she reached for her phone.
We waited ten minutes for Mr. Watson to arrive, and he had the keys with him. The five of us headed out to the hangar and pushed out the two planes. After making our way back into the plant and to Mr. Watson's office, we talked briefly about the status of the plant, the rumors of Greg's retirement, and the rumors of a buyout. Monday's memo, confirming the sale to Piermont, may not be as big of a surprise as we'd intended. Hopefully, the fact that there is a new owner will be a surprise, at least to the right people.
After reuniting Patrick with his wife and children, we went to the cafeteria for lunch. I was pleased to discover that the reported quality of the food was not exaggerated. The cafeteria dining room was pretty much standard, lots of tables of various sizes, lots of chairs, and padded booths around the outside.
I didn't care where we sat, so I let Patrick and Margaret lead the way. I assumed they would know best, concerning seating for their children. They found a large empty corner booth, which was large enough for all of us. I ended up sitting such that I wasn't readily visible to most of the current patrons. That arrangement was fine with me, as I was marginally trying to keep a low profile. We had just decided who would be flying what, when some slightly more vocal ladies sat in the booth behind us. I sat back and quietly listened.
"Margo, have you heard the latest?" one women asked, excitedly.
"No, what's brewing?" the voice I assumed to be Margo asked.
"Janice in personnel says that Mr. De Forest is retiring," the first voice said.
"That's nothing new. He's been talking about retiring for a few years," Margo replied.
"Well, according to Janice it might be soon," the first voice added.
"Susan, you know better than to believe what Janice says. She starts more than 50% of the rumors around here," a third voice stated. That made voice one another Susan. "Wasn't it Janice that started the rumor, a year ago, about the Johnson twins being homosexuals, just because neither one of them would date her cousin, Whilamina."
"Good heavens, Joan. I saw a picture of Whilamina once and I'm telling you, there isn't a sane man alive that would date Whilamina," a fourth voice stated. By the process of deduction, voice three must belong to Joan.
"What Janice said in the past doesn't mean anything, this time she's got proof," Susan declared.
"Yeah, what kind of proof?" Joan asked.
"According to Janice, Delores signed for the Fourth Shift Inspection job. Now, just what does it tell you, when the President's private secretary signs for a production job?" Susan asked.
"You know, there were all those outside people here, for the last three days." voice four added.
"That's true," Margo added. "Some of them were in accounting and some went over every piece of equipment in production."
"So what, they were doing an audit for an insurance company," Joan stated.
"That's what they said, but Franklin in accounting, told me they were digging deeper than any auditor he's ever seen," Susan added.
"Oh, there's Franklin now," Margo interrupted, calling him over.
"Hi Margo, Susan, Joan, Carla, what's the latest from the grape vine?" Franklin greeted.
"Franklin, would you tell them what you told me about the guys that were in accounting," Susan asked.
"Sure, let me grab a chair," Franklin replied. A moment and the squeak of a chair later he continued. "Okay, I know we were told that those guys were doing an audit for an insurance company. Well, I'm telling you that was a crock of bull pucky."
"Oh, Franklin," Carla interrupted. "Cows do it to, but they don't brag about it."
"And they don't put it in crocks," Joan added.
There was some giggling and then Franklin continued, "Sorry about that. Anyway, the so called auditors dug through files going back ten years, which, for an insurance audit is crazy. They were also calling every supplier with a balance due of more than $500. They also calling some of our customers and asking all kinds of questions. I mean, really strange questions. Believe me, they had nothing to do with an insurance audit. Oh, one more thing, I recognized one of the men."
"Really, who was he? Carla asked.
"Well, I recognized him, but I couldn't put a name with the face, or remember where I knew him from, until this morning."
"What happened this morning that made you remember?" Joan asked.
"It was one of those times where you're racking your brain, trying to remember something, but it just won't come. Then, when you're doing something completely different and suddenly, the forgotten memory jumps out of your subconscious and screams, here I am, remember me. So, this morning I was washing Allison's hair and it came to me."
"Oooooooohh hoooooo," Joan teased.
"Relax Joan, Allison is his wife," Carla said.
"I know that, but from the way he's blushing, he was washing her hair while they were in the shower together," Joan declared.
"Big deal, I shower with Jimmy all the time. It's a great way to save water," Susan said.
"You're with Jimmy now?" Margo asked.
"Forget about Jimmy and Allison and showering together to save water, who was the guy?" Carla demanded.
"Oh, yeah, his name is Bill something. Where I saw him before was at my last job. He was going through the books at High Plains paper, just before High Plains was bought by that young girl, umm . . . Oh, I forget her name, but everyone calls her DD."
"You mean Darla Anne Drake?" Joan asked.
"That's her. How did you know it was her?" Franklin asked.
"Well duh, the copies of Paper Press that are left around in here aren't for decoration. You guys should try reading them some time," Joan explained.
"Okay, so I'm illiterate," Franklin complained. "I just hope they aren't buying this place. It took me four months to find this job after being laid off, when they bought High Plains paper."
"You mean they laid everyone off?" Susan asked.
"What?" Franklin asked. Then he explained himself, "No, no, almost everyone that was there, is still there all the production people; maintenance; most of management; almost everyone that had to do with putting paper out the door. The people they let go were mostly front office staff, accountants, sales, purchasing, people like that. Some of them moved into openings in production, but some of us just had to look elsewhere."
"Franklin, did you know that Delores just signed for the Fourth Shift Inspection job?" Susan asked.
"Really? I hadn't heard that. If you ladies will excuse me, I'm going to personnel and see what production openings they might have. I don't want to start looking again, Allison and I like it here." There was a screech of a chair as Franklin got up to leave.
"Well, what do you think now?" Susan asked.
"I think it's time to get back to work," Carla said.
"Oh, you're right, we've got eight minutes to be back on the line," Joan said, as they shuffled out of the booth.
"I know it's considered impolite to eavesdrop, but that was an interesting conversation," I admitted.
"It was indeed," Bob echoed.
"Well, do you want to know what I think?" Susan asked.
"What would that be?" I knew I was opening myself up for almost anything, but I asked anyway.
"I think we need to get you out of here, before anyone else recognizes you. As it is, I think any hope of your secret still being a secret after tomorrow afternoon, ranks right up there with a one way ticket to Neverland," Susan proclaimed, with a smile.
Smiling, Bob admitted, "I think Susan is right, with both predictions. There's an outside door at the other end of this row of booths. Why don't you, Captain O'Toole and his family take that door and head back for the planes. Susan and I will take care of returning the dishes to the kitchen, and then we'll catch up."
"Sounds like a good plan, Bob. We'll see you back at the planes," I agreed.
We made good our escape without being recognized, as far as we knew. The flight back to Portland was uneventful, although a little slower. The Cessna 206, being the slowest of the three, set the pace and altitude. Fortunately the cruising speed of the 206 was well above the stall speed of the G1.
I'm sure that our formation was amusing to anyone who saw us. Bob was in the lead, flying the 206. I was following Bob, maintaining a reasonable distance, in the slightly larger Piper Navajo. Lastly, Captain O'Toole was bring up the rear, in the G1. The formation reminded me of the food chain, little fish are eaten by a bigger fish, who are eaten by an even bigger fish.
This was the battle Piermont was currently facing; gobbling up the smaller companies while trying to not be gobbled up by the big company. Either way you look at it, I was right smack in the middle, hunting what's in front of me while making sure someone doesn't take a big bite out of my tail, at the same time.
As we left the airport, there was quite the line up in front of the Ameri-Moore hangar, the G1, the King Air, the Navajo, and the 206. We said farewell to Captain O'Toole and his family and then headed back to my hotel room to await Rick Landis.
"Good afternoon, Rick," I greeted, as I opened the door.
"Hello DD, I'm glad you invited me" Rick replied, as he shook my extended hand. Looking past me, he added "And Susan is here too. You've both grown so much since I saw you last."
"That was five years ago, Rick," Susan added, as she stood up to greet Rick.
"And this is?" Rick asked, indicating towards Bob, after shaking hands with Susan.
"This is Robert Warren, Executive Vice President, for Piermont Paper Products," I replied, formally introducing the two.
"Wow, both the big guns. I'm honored sir," Rick said, as he shook Bob's hand.
"Mr. Landis. DD tells me you're an honest journalist. I'm not sure, but isn't that a contradiction in terms?" Bob sarcastically replied.
"That may be the case with some journalists, Mr. Warren. Lord knows, there are enough unscrupulous journalists out there. Unfortunately, they give the rest of us a bad name. But, aren't there some equally unscrupulous businessmen in the paper industry, Mr. Warren? Should we assume from that, that everyone in the paper business is unscrupulous?" Rick countered.
Bob chuckled before replying, "Point made Mr. Landis. Please, call me Bob."
"As long as you call me Rick. Well, now that we've had today's fencing lesson, what's with all the cloak and dagger?" Rick asked.
"Cloak and dagger?" Susan asked.
"What else would you call it?" Rick asked. "Secret meetings and cryptic messages, seductive phone calls?"
"Seductive phone calls?" Susan asked.
I answered by telling Susan and Bob about our phone call, a week ago. Susan thought my seductive voice wasn't very seductive. She said I sounded like Natasha, as in Boris and Natasha, from the Bullwinkle cartoons. Leave it to a sister, to tease a sister.
Once we all sat down, we got down to business. Rick was aware of some of the information we presented. However, most of what we passed on took him completely by surprise. Rick took very careful notes and agreed to research all of the information we'd presented.
Just before I opened the door for Rick to leave, I reminded him, "Remember Rick, before you print anything, you have to give a copy of the final draft to the legal department at Ameri-Moore. If you print the story without their approval you're going to be liable for any complaints we receive and possibly legal action from Ameri-Moore. Any problem with that?"
"No, no problem at all, DD. It will take me two to three days to run down these leads and then do some additional background research. I should have the story ready for the lawyers next Friday or the following Monday."
"That will be just fine, Rick. I look forward to seeing what you do with this. Goodbye for now."
"So long everyone. It's been interesting," Rick said with a wave, as he walked through the door.
After Rick left, I sat next to Susan to contemplate our next move, when Susan asked, "Do you two really think that an article in a magazine is going to stop Bobby De Forest from blowing his gourd and going ape?"
I looked at my sister, with a smile. "Not at all, sis. We are quite certain that Bobby will, as you so colorfully put it, blow his gourd."
"However, by publicly announcing what we did last week, and why, we hope to protect our plants and people from direct retaliation," Bob continued.
"At least any direct retaliation from Alliance. I suppose someone else could seize the opportunity and make a move against us," I added.
"After Vermont's arson investigation team makes their announcement on Monday, about the fire in Brandon, any action or incidents involving our plants or personnel would look extremely suspicious," Bob concluded.
"I suppose you two know what you're doing. At least, after we're finished looking at plants on Monday, I won't be considered a possible target," Susan declared.
"Oh, and do you consider yourself a target right now?" I asked, while stealthily reaching for a pillow.
"Well, not at this exact moment, but where I've been with you, all this week, some might consider me a target," Susan replied.
"Wrong answer," I said, as I let the pillow fly.
"Why you . . ." Susan exclaimed, while making a grab for a pillow.
"I think this is my cue to leave, Bob said, as he headed for the door.
"COWARD," both Susan and I chorused.
Bob neatly dogged two pillows as he reached the door. "Dinner at seven?" he said, while hiding behind the door.
"Right," I said, as a pillow caught me square in the face.
"Score one," Susan exclaimed, as the door clicked shut.
You'll pay for that," I exclaimed.
The pillow fight lasted about fifteen minutes. In the end we were both sitting on the floor, exhausted and laughing wildly.
Sunday, July 16, 1972
Sunday morning it was back down to the Hills Creek plant. That's what Bob and I decided to call the remote De Forest paper plant, being that the river was the closest landmark to the plant.
Gregg's King Air had been moved and was sitting next to the living quarters, we assumed for easier loading. Not wanting to disturb anyone who might be sleeping, we stopped on the apron in front of the hangar. Bob walked over to the plant while Susan and I stayed with plane. We figured we were pushing our luck at trying to keep the secret that Piermont had bought out De Forest Paper, especially with several confirmed sightings of "DD" in their plant.
Fifteen minutes later, we saw a jeep come around the end of the buildings, heading for the hangar and us. The jeep swung around and backed up to the nose of the King Air.
The driver got out and greeted us formally. "Good morning Miss Drake, and good morning to you too," he indicated Susan, with the latter greeting. Then he proceeded to attach a pipe with a special adapter to the nose wheel of the plane.
"Would one of you hold the end tow bar while I finish backing in?" he asked. Susan held the bar as he backed up.
After everything was hooked up, he asked, "Would you like to ride up to the plant in the jeep?"
We accepted his offer. Susan climbed into the back and I sat up front. Once we were moving, I asked, "Excuse me, but who are you and how do you know me?"
"I'm sorry. The name's Walter, ma'am, Walter Carver. I'm one of the third shift engineers. I read most of the paper and logging trade publications and your picture has been in quite a few."
"It's nice to meet you Walter. You're right about the trade publications, you'd think they'd find something more interesting to write about. Tell me, which shift is currently working," I asked.
"First shift is on now, second shift will take their place tonight at six. While you might not think so, most of us engineers, find your adventures in the paper business quite interesting," Walter replied.
“Yes, well don’t believe everything you read. Those reporters do seem to have a flair for embellishing the truth,” I stated.
“That may be Miss Drake, but they do make for some interesting reading. Any chance you could confirm or deny the rumors that have been going around the plant?” Walter asked.
“Just what rumor would that be?” I asked in return.
“There are several rumors going around, most of them seem to indicate that you’ve purchased the plant,” Walter clarified.
“Looks like the cats out of the bag sis,” Susan leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
“A rumor is not an admission of fact, Suz,” I clearly stated.
“Suz? Oh, you must be Miss Drake’s sister Susan. It’s nice to meet you,” Walter said, as we pulled to a stop. “You are right Miss Drake, a rumor isn’t fact. Would you like to add any facts to the rumors?”
“Not at this time Walter, not at this time,” I replied, as I climbed out of the jeep.
“Oh well, I guess we’ll just have to let the rumor mill keep chugging along. Although, you being here today will add spice to the rumor mill,” Walter admitted as he unhooked the tow bar. “Nice to meet you Miss Drake, you to Miss Susan. You both have a nice day.” With that Walter climbed back into the jeep and headed back the way he came.
“I told you sis. There is no way you can keep secret the fact that ‘DD’ bought an Eighty Million dollar company for Fifteen Million. It just can’t be done,” Susan exclaimed, after Walter was out of earshot.
“We don’t have to keep it a secret for much longer. We were just trying to give Greg and his wife time to get away before Bobby’s spies hear about it.”
“You think Bobby has spies working here, to keep tabs on his brother?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it for a second, Suz. Not for a second.”
“Wow. It’s a good thing that we all work for Grandma.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, we all work in different divisions so there’s no competition between us. All we’re trying to do is make Grandma proud of us.”
“You’re right there, none of us would do anything to make Grandma ashamed of us,” I concluded.
Shortly after Susan and I had finished our discussion, several people came out of the building carrying boxes, and boxes, and more boxes. Not wanting my face to be on public display, I did a little disappearing act by pulling the curtain that separated the cockpit and the cabin, and slipped into the pilots seat. Susan joined me and we left the loading and balancing of the two planes to Bob and Greg.
The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Mrs. De Forest had packed more than could be carried in the two King Airs'. It was mutually decided that Bob and Greg would make a second trip, in what was now Piermont's King Air. While they were gone Susan and I got better acquainted with Mrs. De Forest as we helped her start the unpacking process. When the boys got back, (boys? Bob is almost three times my age and Greg is at least four times) we fired up both King Airs' and headed for Portland.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 7
Author:
Caution:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 7
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Chapter Seven
Monday, July 17, 1972
Monday morning snuck up on me while I wasn’t looking. It was time for this Texas filly to get back in the saddle. Although, most saddles don’t come with seat belts, and most things you put a saddle on don’t have twin turbo-prop engines, but for another day mine did. I would have preferred to be saddling Emily and going for a nice ride, than going to war with Alliance, but we don't always get what we want. I knew that my time to relax at the ranch would have to wait for a little longer.
After a quick breakfast, Bob took off in the G1 with the two inspection teams. Covering five sites, with two teams, should be easy after the pace we set the week before. I gave Bob an hour to get Jerry and his team to their first site, before I took off with John, Bill and Susan.
Just before leaving my third inspection site, I called the office, in Jefferson City, to check in with Nancy. It seems there was one more plant added to today’s schedule, for a total of six plants. Still an easy task with two inspections teams. The surprising news was, that there were five plant owners in Canada that wanted to talk with me. Nancy didn’t know what to tell them, and was eagerly anticipating my call. I instructed Nancy to tell them that I’d be in contact with them by the end of the week.
By the end of the day, we had acquired two plants and were in partnership with four additional companies.
Tuesday was a travel day and there were still a lot of people to get home. Apparently, there had been quite a bit of juggling of the members of the inspection teams, for Monday. Jerry’s team had been a mix of personnel from across the country. For Monday, his team had two of his accountants and two of his engineers. Bob’s team, like Jerry’s, had been mixed, but for Monday’s inspections, it was made up of people from the Mid-West region, exclusively. So, with a lot of empty seats, we had two planes heading home.
Bob was first to lift off, he would stop in South Dakota for fuel, then head to Owosso to drop off his passengers. He would then head down to Jefferson City. I lifted off right after the G1 this time, I had Bill and John with me. Our route was from Portland to Salt Lake City to refuel and then on to Jefferson City. John was still thinking about his situation and thought a few days in JC, to look around, would add some much needed information or confusion, he wasn’t sure which.
Wednesday, July 19, 1972
The next morning, as I was greeting Nancy, she handed me two urgent phone messages.
"A Mr. Watson called for you three times yesterday. He says it is urgent that you call him as soon as you can. He left the number for the plant, with the extensions for his office and apartment. I don't understand, Miss Drake, does he live at the plant?"
"Yes Nancy. That’s the plant we talked about last Friday, that is so remote that they have an entire living complex for employees and their families."
"Families?"
"Yes, families," I replied, with a smile. "Now then, the other messages?"
"Oh yes, I'm sorry. A Mr. De Forest called, he also said that he needed to speak with you, urgently."
"Which Mr. De Forest?"
"This was Gregory De Forest. How many De Forests are there?"
"There are five that I know of. Anything else?"
"No ma'am, no more urgent messages. There is the usual assortment of other messages, they’re on your desk."
"Very good. Thank you Nancy."
As I crossed the convention center, that I called my office, and noted that things were slowly getting back to normal. There were several folders on my desk, along with a dozen phone messages. After fixing myself a cup of tea I dove in. Being that JC is two hours ahead of Oregon, I thought I'd give the folks out west time to wake up before I called. As was my usual routine, I started with the employee forms, then the phone messages, and lastly the plants offered for sale. There were only two offers in the folder, which was pleasantly surprising. I figured that after word got out about what we did last week the number of offers would skyrocket.
It was still only seven AM in Oregon, but I had Nancy place the call to Dave Watson.
It was only a few moments before my phone rang. "Yes Nancy?"
"I have Mr. Watson for you, Miss Drake."
"Thank you, Nancy."
"Good morning Dave," I said, after I heard the connection go through.
"Good morning Miss Drake."
"I take it from the urgency of your calls, you've had a visitor?" I asked, before Dave had a chance to tell me why he'd called so urgently.
"Yes we did, but how did you know?"
"We sort of expected Robert De Forest to make an appearance, didn't we? That's why Greg wanted everything finalized before any rumors could be leaked."
"Yes, I guess we did expect Robert to make an appearance. I just didn't expect him to be louder than his airplane. He did make a lot of threats, which is why I called."
"Really, Dave. What did he say?"
"Well, when I heard his plane, yesterday, I headed for reception. I actually met him outside, hoping to just turn him around. First he demanded to see his brother. I tried to explain that Mr. And Mrs. De Forest were no longer living at the plant, and that they had moved to their island the previous Sunday. Then he said I was a damn liar, he knew they weren't at the island because Greg’s plane wasn't there. I tried to explain that the planes were assets of the company and that the new owner had already taken possession of them."
"I'll bet he didn't like hearing that."
"No ma'am, he surely didn't. He kept yelling that the company couldn't have been sold and where was his brother. He wouldn't listen to anything I said. He just pushed his way past me and headed for the plant and Mr. De Forest's office."
"What did he do once he knew Gregory wasn't there?"
"He kept demanding to know where his brother was. Again, I told him that Mr. Gregory had sold the company and moved to his island. It took a while but he eventually asked who bought the company. I hesitated a few moments before I told him that it was Piermont Paper. That really set him off. He screamed at me that Gregory would never sell to that little bitch. Oh, excuse me ma'am, those were his words, not mine."
"I understand completely. Please continue, what else did he say?"
"Well, he screamed a lot of profanity when referring to you and Piermont Paper. He said that there was no way the sale of the company could be final and he'd make sure it wouldn't be. Before he left, he ordered me to shut the plant down and that everyone was laid off until he said otherwise."
"Answer a question for me, Dave. Who do you work for?"
Even over the phone I could hear Dave's attitude pick up as he answered, "I work for Piermont Paper and Miss Darla Anne Drake."
Smiling I replied, "That's correct. In the business world it's always important to know who you work for and who your boss is. Can I assume you did not shut the plant down?"
"No ma'am, I did not. There is one other thing that worries me though. Robert De Forest said he would have his people here by the end of the week to take control of the plant."
"Did he now? Well, we'll just have to get some Piermont security on site before then. Can you arrange accommodations for, let’s say, between twelve to sixteen new people?"
"It may be a bit tight, but we'll make it happen, Miss Drake."
"You're a good man Dave. Keep the paper moving and we'll take care of everything else."
"Yes ma'am, we'll keep everything running. I can see that Mr. Gregory was right about you, you do care about your people."
"We try, Dave. We do try. You be sure to let Bob Warren or myself know if you have any more problems with Robert."
"I most certainly will, Miss Drake.”
"Goodbye Dave."
“Goodbye Miss Drake."
After Dave hung up, I asked Nancy to have Bob Warren and Ben Phillips step into my office.
It was several minutes before hearing a knock on my door, "Come in!" I called out.
"Good morning Ben," I said, as Ben entered.
"Good morning DD," Ben replied. Leaving the door open, he started the journey across my office. "Bob is just behind me. This sounds serous."
"Good morning Boss," Bob said, as he entered and closed the door.
"Morning Bob. Yes, Ben, very serious," I replied.
Once they were seated I began, "I know you have an appointment with me this afternoon Ben, which we'll keep, this is a different matter. I just got off the phone with Dave Watson, at the Hills Creek plant. He had an unwelcome visitor yesterday, who made numerous threats, several indicating he's planning an illegal occupation, commencing Friday."
"Robert?" Bob asked.
I nodded in reply, and then Bob continued, "We expected him to fly down as soon as he heard about the sale of the company. What sort of threats was he making?"
"There were quite a few, there's only one that I'm concerned about. He told Dave that he'd have his people there by the end of the week, to take control of the plant," I replied.
"That's Robert De Forest you're talking about?" Ben inquired.
"That's correct," Bob answered.
"You don't think he'd try to take over the plant by force, do you?" Ben asked.
"I don't intend on finding out," I replied. "That's why you're here, Ben. I need you to get with Jerry DeLuca and make arrangements for a force of sixteen armed guards to be at the Hills Creek plant by noon tomorrow, Jerry has the plant detail."
"Sixteen?" Bob asked.
"Four per shift," I replied.
"Noon tomorrow?" Ben exclaimed.
"Do you think four per shift is enough?" Bob inquired.
"Yes, Ben, noon tomorrow. I think four per shift should be satisfactory, if needed, those that are working the opposite schedule can be called for assistance," I thought aloud.
"Wait a second, sixteen armed guards, four per shift, opposite schedule, what are you two talking about?" Ben asked, with a sound of frustration in his voice.
Bob and I quickly explained to Ben the uniqueness of the Hills Creek plant, and why we felt it was urgent that Piermont security be on site as soon as humanely possible.
After our explanation, Ben agreed that the matter was urgent and excused himself, so he could get the ball rolling.
Bob stayed, and asked, "What about the plants at Glide, and Walden, Oregon? Do you think Robert will go after them?"
"I'm going to leave those two plants in your hands, Bob. As organized as you are, I'm sure you have phone numbers for both plants. Give them a call and speak with the chief of security at each plant. Inform them of the situation and if they feel the need for additional security guards, they're authorized to hire as many as they need."
"As many as they need? That's a pretty vague statement."
Thinking for a moment, I added, "Perhaps, but as the plant chief of security, I expect them to act responsible. Where Hills Creek is a unique situation, Glide and Walden have population centers nearby. So, availability of security personnel, as well as possible threats, could both be higher. At those two plants, I wouldn't expect to see a security staff of more than twelve to fifteen, but if the security chiefs feels they need more than that, right now, that's okay. Just let them know that they'll be expected to justify their actions at a later date."
"That makes sense for now. I'll get in touch with them and explain the situation and urgency," Bob agreed, then got up and left.
Later that afternoon, Ben and I were discussing the progress he'd made in staffing our headquarters operations, along with the progress he made in getting our own security people at the Hills Creek plant. Out of nowhere came a roar and a thunder, like the screaming sounds of a big war bird, rudely shattering the peaceful laziness of the fields that surround our office building. We looked outside as the roar of engines faded, only for them to return once more. As the disturbance, once again, came past my office windows, I immediately recognized what was causing such commotion on a quiet afternoon. It had been accurately described to me, five days earlier.
Looking at Ben, I smiled and said, "It looks like we'll be receiving visitors very soon, I would imagine rather angry visitors. Would you care to stay for the circus?"
Ben had a look of surprise, "You’re expecting someone?"
"I was expecting an angry phone call, but I guess he's more upset than I thought he'd be." I explained, as I reached for the phone.
"Hello Bob, DD. Did you see the plane?"
"I most certainly did. Do you think it's who I think it is?"
"I'm sure of it. I'm not sure which subject he wants to discuss, but I'm sure he's agitated. Would you like to come over?"
"I wouldn't miss it. Should I bring anyone with me?"
"Ben is in my office currently, he's staying. You might want to bring Bill along, in case we need some numbers."
"I agree. We'll see you in about ten minutes."
I ended the call with Bob and dialed again.
"Good afternoon, Piermont Paper Products, how may I direct your call?" a young lady answered, who's voice I recognized.
"Melissa, this is Miss Drake."
"Yes Miss Drake, what can I do for you?"
"In about ten to fifteen minutes you're going to have a very angry gentleman come in, demanding to see me. I know who it is, but to be on the safe side I think you should call security and have two of their, rather large, gentlemen standing by. I'd also like them to accompany our guest to my office."
"I understand completely, Miss Drake. I'll call security right now and I'll call you when your angry guest arrives."
Hanging up the phone, I turned back to Ben. "Now all we have to do is wait for the show. While we wait, back to business. You were saying you coaxed some more temporaries from Brandon?"
"Indeed. You did say 'whatever it takes' and what it took was setting up shipping as a separate department. You remember Mark Johnson; he was the only one that wanted to transfer from Brandon. I've set him up as the department supervisor. With the promise of a managerial promotion, I talked five of the folks that used to handle the shipping arrangements to come down as regional managers."
"Regional managers?"
"Yes, one manager for each of our five regions, Northeast, Southeast, Mid-West, Northwest, and Southwest. They arrived last Thursday. We've set up the shipping department, in part of the unused space on the second floor. Then we hired forty new people. Some of them were rehires, from the MoPaper shipping department. A few were general accounts, with only a few years’ experience. The rest of them are fresh out of the local community college. I hated having to throw them in green like that, but there weren't many other options."
"So we've got forty new people, being trained, by the six we had. No chance of getting anymore from Brandon?"
"I had Matt talk with them. More of them indicated they would come down for three months, to train all the new people, if we paid them double time for the entire three months."
"I hope you told them they just weren't that indispensable."
"Well, I told Matt they were out of their minds. I'm not exactly sure what Matt passed on, but knowing Matt as we do, I'm sure he was a bit more colorful."
There was a knock on my office door. "Come in." I called out, before answering Ben; "Yes indeed, we know that Matt can use some colorful language when he feels it’s appropriate."
"Are we interrupting something?" Bob asked, as he and Bill entered, joining Ben and I in my casual area.
"Not at all," I replied. "We were just discussing the unreasonable request by some former employees and how tactfully Matt would have answered their request, for three months of double time."
"Oh my, they should have sold tickets for that show," Bill commented, with a chuckle.
Other comments were held as the phone rang.
I picked up the handset, "Hello."
"Miss Drake, this is Melissa, in reception. The gentleman you described is here. He has three young gentlemen with him."
"I'll bet I know who they are. Are the two gentlemen from security standing by?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Very well. Have security escort our four guests up. Then call security and have two additional men sent up. All four of them are to wait in my outer office. I don't know if they'll be needed, but I'd like them close by."
"Very good, ma'am. I'll send them right up."
"Our guests have arrived," I said, as I hung up. "It seems there are four, not just one. Let's see, to give the proper presentation I suppose I should be at my desk. Ben would you move a couple more chairs over from the conference table. Where the three of you sit is up to you."
I moved to my desk chair, sitting back and smoothing out my skirt. I then gently rested my hands on the arms of the overstuffed, executive, desk chair. Bill and Ben moved one chair each, from the conference table, placing them in front of my desk. Then Bob and Bill took a standing position behind and to either side of me, as they had done many months ago in a meeting with South Core. Ben not knowing exactly what was going on, decided to stand with his colleagues, just to Bill's right.
Suddenly the door burst open as a very angry man rushed into the office, screaming, "JUST WHAT THE IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, STEALING MY COMPANY? YOU CONNIVING LITTLE BITCH!" By the time he was finished screaming, he had crossed the office and was standing less than a foot from my desk, with his fists on his hips, in a typically Superman stance.
"I'm sorry Miss Drake, he got away from us in the executive suites’ lobby," Mr. Fisher apologized.
Mr. Fisher was followed by Mr. O'Reilly and the three other gentlemen.
"That's quiet all right, Mr. Fisher. Would you and Mr. O'Reilly wait in the outer office please?"
"Yes ma'am, it'll be a pleasure. Just yell if you need us."
I heard the door close, and asked "Gentlemen, would you please be seated?" The three younger gentlemen moved to the chairs, but with the older gentleman not moving, decided to stay standing.
From the moment he burst through the door, I hadn't broken eye contact. If he thought I was in anyway intimidated by his stance and evil glare, he was sadly mistaken.
"Well, well, Mr. Robert De Forest. Welcome to Jefferson City. May I assume that these young men are your nephews?"
Bobby remained silent and standing. Eventually I asked, "Won't you please be seated so we can discuss things in a civilized manor?"
When Robert still didn't move, I leaned my head towards Bob slightly, but without breaking eye contact with Robert, "Mr. Warren, I don't remember ordering a statue to adorn my office."
The three young men chuckled briefly.
"Very well, Robert, you may remain standing if that is your wish, it won't change anything. Let's see, oh yes, you made an outlandish accusation, inferring that I took possession of something that didn't belong to me. I consider your accusation slanderous, as I've never stolen anything in my life. Having made that point quite clear, to what company are you referring?" The ball was now in his court.
It was a solid five minutes before Bobby spoke or moved. "YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT COMPANY I'M TALKING ABOUT. DE FOREST PAPER, YOU DUMB BITCH!"
"Very good, now we're getting somewhere. If I'm guilty of any wrong doing, and as you claim, I've stolen De Forest Paper. Just who did I steal it from?" I asked.
"FROM ME AND MY NEPHEWS, YOU STUPID BITCH!" Bobby venomously cried out.
"I see, I stole De Forest Paper from you and your nephews. May I ask, which of your names was listed on the titles for the real property, or on the business license, issued by the state of Oregon?" I calmly asked.
"THEY WERE IN HIS WILL! THEY'D HAVE GOTTEN IT ALL, WHEN GREG DIED!" Bobby yelled.
"Oh, they are in their father's will, and you've come to see that their father's will is executed properly, on their behalf of course. It's customary for a lawyer to execute the will of the deceased. I must say, I'm sorry to hear of Gregory De Forests' sudden demise? My condolences, he was an extraordinary gentleman. I'm shocked to hear of his passing. He was very much alive when we flew both him and his lovely wife to their island, last Sunday. They were both looking forward to a quiet retirement."
"NO! HE'S NOT DEAD, you dumb bitch!" Robert cried out.
Continuing to ignore his references to a female dog, I calmly continued, "Gregory has not passed away, that is good to know. So, let me see if I understand correctly, you're not here to execute Gregory's will, obviously, because he is still alive. Yet you are accusing me of stealing from your nephews, something that was not theirs. So, please tell me," I started, as I stood up, pushing my chair back and having my three VP's step forward so the four of us were standing side by side. "Why are you here?"
Robert looked a little nervous, but was still very vocal, "To stop you from consummating the deal with my brother, so my nephews can inherit what is rightfully theirs."
Finally breaking eye contact with Robert, I looked towards the three young men as I spoke with some emphasis "Gentlemen, you can have whatever you want in this life, by setting some goals, and working towards them, not by clinging onto someone else's coat tails. Because, not one of you showed enough interest in working with your father to build a better future, the three paper plants, the warehouse in Eugene, and all the other assets of De Forest Paper, are now part of Piermont Paper Products."
"WE’LL SUE! WE’LL TAKE YOU TO COURT! WE’LL TIE YOU UP IN SO MUCH LEGAL RED TAPE THAT IT WILL BE YEARS BEFORE YOU'LL BE ABLE CLOSE THE DEAL AND ASSUME CONTROL!" Robert sputtered.
While Robert was yelling, I calmly sat back down.
"Excuse me, Mr. De Forest," Bob couldn't help but jump in. "The deeds have been signed, the transfer of title for all assets have been recorded in the appropriate county recorders offices, and the Fifteen-Million-dollar cashier’s check has been signed and delivered.”
“FIFTEEN MILLION, ONLY FIFTEEN MILLION? THAT COMPANY WAS WORTH MORE THAN EIGHTY MILLION!”
After Bobby stopped yelling, I calmly replied, “Fifteen Million was the amount that Gregory requested. He did say, that if anyone else had wanted to purchase the company, he would have asked for Forty Million. If my memory is correct, Gregory said, that there was a standing offer from Alliance Paper, for the purchase of De Forest Paper, to the tune of Six Million dollars. Now, I have to ask myself, who would be considered the bigger thief?”
"YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS. I'LL HAVE MY BROTHER DECLARED INCOMPETENT AND THE SALE OF THE COMPANY REVOKED!"
"I'm sure Gregory and everyone who worked for him, would fight against any such declaration," I calmly replied.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, YOU CONNIVING LITTLE BITCH! IF IT TAKES FOREVER, I'LL GET YOU!" Robert screamed, his face turned red as he waved his arm wildly, then he turned and headed for the door.
"Mr. De Forest, please stay for a few minutes, we have another matter of business that needs to be discussed," Bill called out.
Robert stopped just short of the door, turned and look back, "WHAT?"
I softly asked, "Bill, now?"
"Why not now?" Bill replied, with a little smile.
Bob echoed Bill's sentiment, with a smile of his own, "Yeah, why not now?"
"WELL?" Robert screamed, obviously more than ready to be gone.
"You're right, why not,” I ultimately agreed. “Robert, I'm sure you are aware that when your father passed away, Gregory being the eldest, inherited not only the paper plants in Oregon, but also an estate in Spokane, Washington."
"Yeah, Greg said I could live there, so what?"
"What you may not know is that some time ago, for tax reasons, Gregory incorporated the De Forest Estate within De Forest Paper."
"Are you saying - no - he didn't - he couldn't - not -you don't mean?"
Bob interrupted Robert's ramblings, "A change of title for the estate has been recorded and is now on file."
"Are you telling me I have to abandon my family’s home?" Robert cried out.
Calmly I continued, "That isn't what we’re saying at all. Piermont has no need for, or desire to keep and maintain, an estate in Spokane. We will therefore be looking at liquidating the property in the near future. With you being the current occupant we will naturally give you first right of refusal."
"Right of refusal? ARE YOU TELLING ME I HAVE TO BUY BACK MY FAMILY’S ESTATE? I'm going to KILL that brother of mine when I get my hands on him. HOW MUCH?"
"The appraised value is $650,000." Bill quoted from memory.
Then I started to explain, "If we were to sell that on the open market we'd be asking $725,000. However, being that you're such a kind hearted fellow, who prides himself on being honest in all his business dealings and is kind towards his fellow man; we'll let you have it for-"
Robert snidely interrupted me, "AN EVEN MILLION - RIGHT?"
I waited a moment before I replied, "I have no doubt that if our roles were reversed, and you had acquired my family's home, you would take great pleasure in trying to extort an extravagantly over inflated sum. However, it pleases me no end, knowing that we are nothing alike. I was going to say that we'd sell you the estate for the bargain price of $500,000."
"$500,000 for an estate that was paid off and debt free decades ago. You're out if your #@%&*%# mind," Robert exploded once again.
"There is the option of renting the property for say – two thousand dollars a month, at least until we find another buyer. We really aren't interested in becoming a landlord," Bill added.
"Me, pay rent to you? You're as crazy as that stupid bitch you work for. I'm not paying you one red cent. The place is mine and we're staying right where we are!"
I leaned over and touched the button for the intercom to my outer office, "You may come in now, Mr. Fisher. Our guests are ready to leave."
The three young men were surprised when four, rather large, security guards entered.
"We'll give you a month to consider our offer, Mr. De Forest," Bob stated. “After that time we will put the estate up for sale."
"Don't forget, rent is due on the first of the month," Bill added, as the four De Forests were escorted out.
Ben went around and sat in one of the four chairs that currently faced my desk, sighed and asked, "Gee, I think I've been missing out. Do you three always have so much fun?"
"Not always," I replied, with a giggle.
"Today was better than most," Bob added, with a grin, as he also sat down.
"From his attitude, I'd say we haven't seen the last of Robert De Forest," Ben said.
"From the sound of it, I'd say we're going to have our hands full dealing with him," Bill said, after he also took a seat.
"I'm sure you're correct, and we haven’t seen his reaction to the upcoming article in Log Views, about our activities last week. I’m sure once everything comes to light, we’ll have the pleasure of another visit from Mr. De Forest. Until then, I think we've had our excitement for today, so let's get back to some boring business. Being that you're all here, how are the plans shaping up for next week?"
"I'll have everything finalized before I leave tonight," Bob started. "John and I will be taking the G1 to Brandon tonight. I'll spend two days with my family, before flying to Asheville, Saturday evening. Sunday morning, Ron and some of his people will fill the back of our G1 and we'll head for Portland. I've arranged to charter the G1 from Ruthland Air and they'll be leaving Brandon Sunday morning as well, with half of the seats filled. They'll stop in Owosso to pick up some of Gerard's people, before continuing on to Portland. We chartered the plane with the pilots this time and they'll be returning to Ruthland Monday morning."
"That will give us thirty-three management personnel, for the ten operating plants. That’s a little thin, isn't it?" I asked.
"That's just the first load. The Ruthland G1 will be making a second trip on Thursday, with another full load of management, bringing the total up to fifty-two," Bob elaborated.
"That takes care of management, what are the plans for accounting?" I inquired.
"Bob will have his hands full getting his management people moved and settled, for the first two weeks. So we won't do anything with accounting until those people are in place," Bill explained. "Two weeks from Sunday, Bob will come back for another plane load. Fourteen accountants will fill the back and I'll sit up front, with Bob. We'll put three accountants, in four plants, for a month, to train the current staff and evaluate their performance. Then we'll move them to the next four and so on."
"Why the two-week delay, is it for the lack of aircraft, or the lack of pilots?" I asked.
"Well, I'd have to say both," Bob replied.
"There's only the one G1 and you and Bob are the only one's licensed to fly her," Bill added.
"As I mentioned before, the small planes are great for hopping around within a region, but they're not as good for flying cross country," Bob added.
"I see. Well, that just goes towards substantiating the decision I announced last Friday. All of Piermont's VP's need their pilot’s license," I stated.
"All VP's?" Ben asked, with a smile.
"Well, I'm not so sure about Matt. I guess we'll leave that up to him. So let’s say, most of our VP's will be learning to fly both single and multi-engine aircraft. Bob, how many do you think that Constellation of Bobby's, would seat?"
"You want Bobby's airplane?" Bill asked, with an amused chuckle.
"Not necessarily that exact one, I was just thinking about that style of aircraft. I don't know how much more difficulty there would be in handling four engines, versus two," I replied. "Anyway, if a lack of transportation is becoming a problem, I should think about additional transportation."
"It's only a problem when we acquire so many new plants at one time. The rest of the time, the planes we have are quite sufficient," Bob stated.
"I still think another larger plane is something to consider, if the right deal comes along. Of course, there will be John's plane, once he decides on one. So, how are we handling the accountants we'll need for the partnership plants?"
"We got lucky there," Bill started. "We had Matt talk with the general accountants we furloughed in Brandon, not those involved with shipping. For a one-year commitment, and just a little more money we got thirteen accountants that are willing to take on that challenge."
"That is good news. When will they be going out west?" I asked.
"In three weeks, maybe a few days sooner," Ben said.
"That date is special because?" I asked.
"Because, I can't be in two places at once," Bill replied, with a smile. "Once we've got the training accountants working in the first four plants, I'll have the time to work with the accountants in the partnership plants. We're assuming that each one will have a different accounting system, that we'll have to learn, before we can create the forms that will interface with our systems."
"Will one accountant in each plant be sufficient to handle the job? When we were talking with the owners, we indicated there would be two accountants," I reminded everyone.
"Two would be ideal, we just don't have that many we can spare," Bill replied.
"Ben, are there more accountants available in the local work force?" I asked.
"We've rehired all of the MoPaper accountants, from their original headquarters staff. There are those that were laid off from the various plants over the years, I don't know how many might be available. Of course it is late June there should be a group of recent college graduates coming on the market, across the country," Ben replied.
"It sounds like you know where to find some accountants? We need them here as soon as possible. We've got three weeks to get them trained," I said.
"Right DD," Ben acknowledged.
"How are we coming on our nationwide price for newsprint?" was my next question.
"Lynn March is working with the team that's putting those numbers together. I've been keeping tabs on them and we should have that by close of business on Friday, perhaps in time for our Friday executive staff meeting. We'll also know which plants will be running in the red and by how much," Bill proudly stated.
"That's excellent, Bill. Excellent. Pass on my compliments to the entire accounting staff."
"Will do, DD."
"I think that covers everything, except purchasing. How does Tom usually integrate the purchasing departments, of newly acquired plants?" I asked.
"Well, we're having a problem with purchasing," Bob started. "It seems that Tom lost virtually all of his department, in the headquarters move."
"The entire department?" I asked.
"All but one," Bob confirmed. "The two of them have been working like crazy, keeping the raw materials flowing."
"We've found that four of our new-hires have a little purchasing background," Ben said. "So they've been moved into purchasing, but it will take some time before they're up to speed."
"How many did we lose?" I asked.
"When we started out with just the Brandon plant, there was just Tom. He was handling everything okay on his own. Tom continued on his own, with the exception of Danbury, until we bought Owosso. One of their purchasing agents transferred to Brandon, between Tom and Ralph they kept everything moving. With the addition of Appalachian, came a third purchasing agent and a full time secretary to the department. It's worked out to be one purchasing agent for every eight to ten operating plants."
I thought for a moment before replying, "So the department was five people, in addition to Tom and a secretary. Now we have Tom, one experienced purchasing agent, four trainees, and no secretary. Taking into account the new plants and the partnership plants, we need three to four additional purchasing agents and probably two secretaries?"
"That's what I figure, but Tom hasn't told me what he needs yet," Ben replied.
"So we need seventeen additional accountants, four purchasing agents, and at least two secretaries. Does that complete our headquarters staffing needs?" I asked.
"That's pretty much it. Other than shipping wants three or four more, plus the additional security personnel you want, here and at the other plants," Ben replied.
I looked at Ben for a few moments, before asking, "Ben, how many people did you lose in the move?"
Ben smiled, and replied, "Only three."
"Only three? But you handle the staffing for the whole company. How is it that you only lost three?"
"After we purchased Appalachian I realized, I couldn't handle all the employment and personnel needs of the company, by myself," Ben admitted. "So I set up a Director of Personnel, in each region and a Personnel Manager, in each plant. Obviously, the plants report to the regional managers, who in turn report to one of my two assistants’. When we moved, I left one of my assistant's as the Northeast Regional Director, and the other assistant as the Brandon Personnel Manager. They're still sharing the same secretary. Eventually, I'm going to look for an assistant or two and a secretary, but they can wait until later. For right now, I been using the JC plant Personnel Manager to help with interviews and Ellen has been filling in as my secretary."
"So that's why she's been taking so long in getting my stuff done. She's too busy doing your stuff," Bob jokingly complained.
Ben started to apologize, but Bob quickly cut him off, "I'm just kidding. Ellen has been doing a great job for me, and knowing that she's been working for you as well, means I'm even more impressed with her abilities."
"Gentlemen, thank you for the update. Normally, I stop in for a couple of weeks, stir up the hornets’ nest and run back to school, leaving you to clean up the mess. It's good to see how organized you all are and how you manage to tackle all the problems I created. Of course, I've known all along that all of you are exceptional at your jobs; because of how Piermont has grown. I thank you all for your hard work, and it's because of how organized you are, that I've made a decision."
"What's that, you're going to take off for the next two months, while we get everyone integrated into the company?" Bob asked, with a smile.
Returning Bob's smile, I replied, "As tempting as that sounds, not this time. However, the enthusiasm and dedication that you've shown have helped me with a decision that I've been struggling with."
"And what decision is that?" Ben asked, before anyone else had the chance.
I paused a moment before answering, "I think this is something I should announce in our executive staff meeting this Friday. But I will say this; I'm going to need two accountants and two engineers, downstairs in the lobby, Sunday morning at 7:30. They'll need to be prepared for a three-day trip - maybe four days."
"Sunday? But, I'll be using the G1, getting the management teams in place," Bob said, it almost sounded like a question.
"Yes, you'll be using the G1. My small inspection team, will leave from here, Sunday morning, in the King Air," I stated.
Bob chuckled, "I'd forgotten about the King Air. It's a little small for cross country, isn't it?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to go that distance in anything smaller, but it did very well and was comfortable coming back from Portland, yesterday. It does have a lavatory, if the passengers need it. As for me, well, I'll just pull over at the nearest gas station."
"Speaking of Friday's meeting, I was talking with our rep at the phone company and I've arranged for a speaker phone to be installed tomorrow, here and in Matt's office in Brandon."
"Speaker phone?"
"On your conference table. We just call in, on the office buildings eight-hundred number, and have the switchboard patch us into the new extension."
"Interesting, is there a limit on how many incoming calls can be connected to that extension?"
"I don't know, why?"
"Oh, I was just thinking. If you and Matt call in -"
"We'll have John with us," Bob interrupted.
"Even better. I'll have Bill, Ben, and Tom here; you, Matt, and John call in from Brandon. Then we have Ron, Gerard, and Jerry, call in from their respective offices, and we can have full attendance at every meeting."
"I hadn't thought that far ahead and I'm not sure if that will work, but I'll have the answers before I leave today.
We discussed a few other issues before calling our impromptu meeting to a close. As was typical, Bob stayed after everyone else had left.
"What's on your mind Bob?"
"It's Canada, isn't it?" he said, leaning back in his chair.
"I can see there's no keeping any secrets from you. How did you figure it out?"
"I talked with Nancy early this morning. She mentioned there were five plant owners in Canada, asking to have you contact them and ask me what I thought."
"And what do you think?"
"I told Nancy it would be up to you."
"Expanding into Canada is a logical move. We have all the resources we need to organize and run an operation across the border."
"I would like to wait until the situation with Alliance is settled," Bob commented.
"It's because of Alliance that these plants are in trouble, but I agree with you completely. It would be preferable to hold off on any other expansion plans; until things have settled and stabilized."
"I guess we don't always get to have things the way we want."
"You have to admit, we have had our share of easy takeovers."
"Just do me a favor, boss?"
Giggling, I asked, "What would that be?"
"After this trip to Canada, no more this year? With the fifteen new plants, and the seventeen companies we're in partnership with, I'm going to be so busy between now and Halloween, that I won't see my family from next Saturday until Thanksgiving."
"Well, we'll have to do something about that, family time is important. I'm not sure what exactly, but we'll work something out."
"There's also moving my family from Brandon to JC, which needs to happen in the next couple of months.”
“I hadn’t forgotten about that. When the time is right, we’ll send some people from the plant over, to help your wife pack up the house. We’ll also make a truck available for the move,” I told him.
“That will be great, I hadn’t thought of that. There is one more thing I wanted to discuss; the other King Air, seeing how you brought up the subject. With both of us in the Northwest, for a few days, we should take the time to stop over in Eugene and pick up the other King Air. It would be more efficient, when I'm transporting just a few people, from place to place."
"I haven't gotten with Nancy to plan an itinerary yet, so arranging some time shouldn't be a problem. Why don't we plan on the trip to Eugene first thing Monday morning, then you'll have the option of using which ever plane is the most appropriate for each trip."
After Bob left, I thought I'd review our five-year business plan. After all, we reached all of the goals of our first five-year plan, in one and a half years. We were now two and a half years into our second five-year plan, and I was sure we'd achieved at least half of the goals we set. So I figured it was time for me to do my job and review exactly where we stood as a company. Of course, going to war with Alliance, wasn't one of our goals. However, because of the price war, we were propelled into making acquisitions above and beyond what we would have expected for our normal growth rate.
As the day was drawing to a close, Bob and John came to pay me a visit, before heading for the airport. Bob's news was not all good, the arrangements for temporary managers at the new plants, was going better than expected. However, the news from the phone company was not as good. Having four calls coming in to the speaker phone in my office, was not possible, with the equipment we were currently using. There was some newer equipment available, that would allow what we wanted and Bob had made the arrangement for the upgrade.
You could tell that John was shocked, when I asked for two engineers to accompany me, on a little trip up into Canada. Of course, he was loaded with questions, leaving from where, when, what plane I was taking, how many were going, how long will they be gone, how many companies will we be evaluating, and on and on?
Between Bob and me, we answered most of John's questions. The only ones we couldn't answer, had to do with timing, and the return date and time; Nancy and I would work out the itinerary, Thursday morning.
"Well, it looks like I have a problem," John complained.
"What would that be?" Bob asked.
"Well, the way I see it, once the announcement is made Friday morning, about expanding into Canada, most of the engineers in the company, will want to be part of the inspection team."
"You could organize a lottery, a dollar a ticket," I suggested, with a chuckle.
"Yes, but what would I do with the money?" John asked.
"We could add it to the company party fund. That way, everyone would benefit," Bob suggested.
"I was joking," I said.
"We know," Bob and John replied together.
Smiling, I continued, "I know you'll provide me with two competent engineers, John."
"Us," John stated.
"Us?" I asked.
"Well, you don't think I'm going to let you take two of my engineers into Canada, without me coming along, do you?" John answered.
"As President of Piermont Paper, technically, they are my engineers. However, if you want to come along to supervise your engineers, you're more than welcome to join the party."
"You know, boss, once Bill finds out where you are taking his accountants, he's going to insist that he goes along," Bob said.
"I guess it's a good thing the King Air can accommodate six, in relative comfort."
"Yes, it’s a good thing," Bob agreed. "Well, we better be off. My wife and kids are going to be waiting at the airport. I'll see you Monday morning, in Portland."
"And I'll see you Sunday morning," John added, as the two of them were heading for the door.
Thursday, July 20, 1972
I'd just fixed myself a cup of tea and gotten comfortable, when Nancy called. "I have Mr. Wells on the line for you Miss Drake."
"Thank you, Nancy."
"Good morning Mr. Wells, how are you on this beautiful sunny morning?"
Mr. Wells chuckled softly before answering, "It may be sunny in your part of the world, but it's raining profusely in mine."
"I'm sorry to hear that. By the way, I wanted to thank you for your recommendations. I did engage the services of one of the firms you recommend. Now then, what can I do for you this morning?"
"I thought that was supposed to be my question, what I can do for you, Miss Drake? I’m glad that one of my associates on the west coast was able to help you."
"Of course, you're right about confusing the question. Now then, what can you do for me this morning?"
"I have a name for you, Miss Drake."
"A name? You know who South Core's spy is?" I asked, excitedly.
"Well, it's possibly their spy. All I can tell you for sure is that this individual worked for South Core for many years; right up until two months before starting to working for you. It was a little hard to verify, the actual work history had been very effectively obscured, but the more we dug into it, the more the strings of the deception unraveled. A friend of mine that works with the IRS, was able to clear things up, he can be extremely helpful from time to time."
"Yes, friends in high places are definitely good to have. So who do I need to keep an eye on?"
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 8
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 8
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Chapter 8
"The name - is Mark Johnson," Mr. Wells coldly answered my question.
"Mark Johnson?" I hesitantly repeated. I paused a moment before continuing. "This could be a problem."
"Why's that a problem? Just fire his low life stoolie ass-et."
"In Brandon Mr. Johnson was an accountant, just one of many. He was part of the group that handled the coordination of shipping to our customers. Being that, he was the only one from that group to make the move from Brandon to JC. Our VP of Personnel just promoted him to supervisor of the shipping department."
I could hear Mr. Wells sigh, "Well, as I said before, we're not one hundred percent sure he's the spy. It's just that he did work for South Core and his actual work history had been, expertly, concealed."
"I understand, Mr. Wells. We’ll have to keep a close eye on him, from now on,” I replied, with a sigh. “Is there anything else, Mr. Wells, any threats against Piermont, or perhaps some other unsuspecting company?"
"Well, they are planning to take over a company in Alabama next week. I didn't mention it because they produce egg cartons and things like that, not the types of paper you produce."
'Oh no. Roy's not in trouble again, is he?' I thought. "What's the name of this unsuspecting little company?"
"Allison Paper, in southern Alabama."
"OOH, that's a relief to hear. I thought they might be going after Roy Blu."
"Didn't he own MoPaper?"
"Yes, he did, and before you ask; yes, we are on friendly terms."
"So, this is good news, for a change?"
"I guess so. Yes, I'd consider it good news."
"Well, that's refreshing. Usually I'm the one giving people bad news." I could hear a slight change in his tone and knew he was pleased with himself.
I had to giggle a moment at Mr. Wells’ revelation. "Thank you for calling, Mr. Wells."
"I'll be in touch if we hear anything else. Good day, Miss Drake."
"Goodbye Mr. Wells."
After I'd hung up with Mr. Wells I called Nancy.
"Yes, Miss Drake. What can I do for you?"
"Yesterday afternoon you prepared a rejection letter to be sent to Allison Paper, in Alabama. Do you know if it's still in the building?"
"It should be, Miss Drake. The post office picks up outgoing mail when the days’ mail is delivered, that's usually around 9:30."
"Great, call down to the mail room and have that letter pulled. Then I need you to get Roy Blu on the phone."
"Yes ma'am, right away."
While I was waiting for Nancy, I gave Bill a call and asked him to collect all the information he could dig up, quickly, about Allison Paper.
I'd just hung up with Bill when Nancy called. "The mail room found the letter to Allison Paper. They'll send it up along with today's mail. I have Roy Blu on the line for you, ma'am."
"Thank you, Nancy. Put him through."
"Good morning Roy, how are you."
"Well good morning DD. Life is good and business is booming. What can I do for you sugar?"
"Well, maybe I can do something for you, Roy. First, if you don't mind me asking, how's your financial situation these days?"
"Why, have you heard something bad?"
"Yes, but not about you. Are you familiar with Allison Paper? I think they are somewhere in Alabama."
"Sure I know them. They've got a nice little plant in southern Alabama. Why?"
"I've just heard that South Core is going to pounce on them next week."
"WELL, SON OF A . . . um, I mean, that’s terrible. I know Allison and her daddy real well. I knew they was having a bit of a hard time, but I had no idea they was that badly off. I really hate those people at South Core."
"I'm not very fond of them myself. Anyway, I received an offer to buy out Allison, this week. As you know, I'm not interested in plants that produce formed paper products. So, I was wondering if you were in a position to go after them. You know how pleased I am when someone beats South Core to the punch."
"Well, I don't know if I'm in a position to buy out Allison. I mean, my cash flow is real good, my cash reserve is stable at about half a million, and I've got about a hundred thousand in a slush fund. I don't know about committing everything on a buyout. Besides, I'm not in your league when it comes to wheeling and dealing. Hey DD, how about if you come down here and do the wheeling and dealing, maybe you can get the plant for a song and I could learn a thing or two?"
"I kind of thought you'd ask that question," I replied, with a giggle. "I've already got my finance people looking into the situation at Allison. I'm sort of pressed for time so if we're going to do this it will have to be this afternoon. Can you clear your afternoon schedule?"
"You just tell me where to meet that fantastic bizz jet of yours and I'll be there."
"I don't have access to the jet right now. We'll be using our newly acquired Beechcraft King Air. It's a little slower than the jet, but it's a nice little plane."
"Little plane? Well I guess that sounds fine and dandy, little lady." For some reason Roy sounded a little nervous. "When and where."
"I'll get back to you on the time Roy, what’s the nearest airport to your plant?”
“Shucks, that would be the Scottsboro Muni-Word field, just Northeast of Scottsboro, in ta Northeast corner of Alabama.”
“Got it. Listen, Roy, as long as I'm showing you DD's wheeling and dealing techniques, why don't you bring along your chief engineer and your chief accountant. I'm sure they can learn a thing or two from my people."
"That's a swell idea, DD. I'll talk with them right away."
"Great Roy. I'll have my secretary give you a call when I have the details worked out. See you later."
"I'm looking forward to it, sugar. By now"
As soon as I hung up I pulled out my chart case and started figuring out a flight plan. My problem was that John was in Brandon. After I found a convenient airport I asked Nancy to track down John Fahey, in Brandon.
I’d been studying the charts for about twenty minutes, when my phone rang.
"Miss Drake, I apologize for taking so long, but I've tracked down Mr. Fahey. I'll put him through now."
I smiled at Nancy's apology as I replied, "Thank you Nancy." I must remember to complement Nancy for her efficiency. I had no idea where John would have been, or what it took to 'chase him down,' but I knew that Nancy was probably on the phone the entire time.
"DD?" John asked.
"Hello John. It’s been such a long time since we talked I thought I'd call and see how things are going up there,” I teasingly replied.
“A long time?” John asked, with a chuckle. “DD, it was yesterday evening that Bob and I were in your office.”
“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that something has come up and I need your services. How fast can you be in Louisville, Kentucky?”
“What? - Um, I don’t know off the top of my head. What’s going on?”
“There’s a plant in southern Alabama that we need to evaluate, for a friend. The only time I have available is today.”
Sounding a little exasperated, John replied, “I’ll have to get back to you, DD. I have no idea what flights I can get, on such short notice.”
“Do your best John. I'll be waiting to hear from you.”
‘I would love to be a fly on Bob’s wall when John goes in to talk with him, about that crazy phone call,’ I thought.
I’d left the most of the charts on the conference table, taking a couple back to my desk. It was about twenty minutes before my phone rang.
“Yes Nancy?”
“I have Mr. Warren on the line for you Miss Drake.”
“Thank you, Nancy. Put him through.”
"Good morning, Bob. How are your wife and children? Pleased to see you I imagine."
After a slight pause, Bob replied, "Yes, my wife and kids were happy to see me, and they are doing fine, thank you. You want to tell me about this little trip to Alabama?"
I smiled to myself, as I explained the details of the trip to Allison paper and teaching Roy Blu the art of wheeling and dealing. I decided to hold off on informing Bob about Mark Johnson. There wasn't anything he could do from there and I didn't want him fuming about it while he was supposed to be relaxing with his family.
As we were about to hang up, I heard John enter Bob's, temporary, office.
"Hold on a second, boss, John is looking a little frustrated," Bob requested.
It was a few moments before Bob came back on the line.
"Well, it seems that the earliest John can be in Louisville is six tonight, flying common carrier that is. I guess I'll have to fly him down."
"But, Bob, you're supposed to be spending time with your family."
"Yes I am, and they'll be a little disappointed. We will just have to push John a little harder, about getting his pilot’s license. As for today, there aren't many options."
"I'd argue, but I guess you're right. Bob, have you taken your family flying?" I ask while scanning the chart for Missouri.
"What?"
"Well, I was just thinking, Captain O'Toole's family really enjoyed flying with their father. I figured yours might enjoy some time in the air, with you."
"I see. No, I haven't taken them flying, what were you thinking?"
"Then it's settled, call your wife and ask her to pack some bags, for the family. Instead of Louisville, Kentucky, I'll meet you at the Spirit of St Louis airport, West of St Louis, Missouri. After I pick up John, you and your family can spend a couple of days at Six Flags over Mid-America," I suggested.
I heard Bob laughing for a minute before he replied, "Boss, you really are amazing. I better not tell the kids where we're going, their screaming would be deafening."
"I'm sure it would be," I agreed, with a smile of my own. "Bob, how soon do you think you can be airborne?"
"Let's see, it's just after ten now, give time for my family to get here and for John to grab a bag and get back -"
"I'll meet you at the airport in thirty minutes," I heard John call out, then I heard a door close.
"Well, that takes care of John," Bob confirmed, with a chuckle. "We should be wheels up by 11:15."
"Okay, by my calculations that should have you landing in St Louis between 1:15 and 1:30, local time, depending on what Mother Nature throws at you."
"That's about what I'm figuring. Well, I better call my wife and get home to give her a hand with the kids."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate the help. I'll see you in St Louis, Bob."
After Bob and I hung up, I checked the charts once more and then had Nancy call Roy, asking him to meet us at the Scottsboro airport at 3:30.
Just before ten my phone rang. "Miss Drake, there's a Mr. Landis asking to speak with you. I know he's a reporter for one of the periodicals you receive, I don't remember which and I know you haven't been taking any calls from reporters, but he said this was a follow up on the interview you gave him."
"You are correct, Nancy. Mr. Landis is a reporter, for Log Views, and I have been expecting a call from him. Although, I wasn't expecting his call until tomorrow. You may put him through."
"Good morning Rick."
"It is a good morning, DD. In fact, it's a fabulous morning. I just dropped off two copies of the article for the legal department, at the Ameri-Moore headquarters."
"That was fast. I didn't expect you to have it finished until tomorrow sometime."
"I know, I figured it would take longer, but my editor was so excited about us getting the scoop that he helped with a lot of the leg work."
"Really? So did your editor think the story warranted putting out a special edition?"
"That he did. As soon as your legal department puts their stamp of approval on it, the presses will roll. The special edition should be in the hands of our distribution department Sunday morning."
"I'm almost afraid to ask this question, what did you do for art?"
"They wanted more recent pictures of you and De Forrest than we have on file, so they made a deal with Paper Press. Some of their file photos and they can reprint the story, three days after our edition hits the streets."
"And Paper Press went along with that arrangement?"
"They didn't at first. It was only after we pointed out how few customs would be receiving both publications that they eventually agreed."
"So which picture did you decide to put on the cover?"
"They turned the art department loose to see what they could come up with."
"You didn't give them Susan's idea of General Mc Arthur, did you?"
"It was in the top three, but they decided on something else."
"I'm afraid to ask, but how have they abused my face this time?"
"It actually looks pretty good. They have you sitting on a horse, with the reins in your teeth, and a revolver in each hand. It reminds me of an old picture I saw once of Annie Oakley."
"Sounds more like John Wayne in True Grit."
"I hadn't made that connection, but now that you mention it, they are pretty close. But if my memory is right, John Wayne had a revolver in one hand and a rifle it the other."
"I think you're right, Rick. Oh well, I guess being compared to Annie Oakley isn't too bad. I wonder what my mother and aunt would say if I arrived at home with a pair of revolvers strapped to my hips."
"I don't know what they'd say, but I want a picture of you with them, riding Emily," Rick said, with a chuckle.
"Being that I don't have any guns there will be no pictures and I'm surprised you remembered her name. As for your art department’s creation, I guess I'll see their handy work when I get back in the office, on Wednesday."
"You’re going on another buying trip?" Rick asked, fishing for information and possible another story.
I thought for a moment before answering his question. I didn't think it would be a bad thing if he knew we were expanding into Canada. I just wasn't sure I wanted to openly tell him. "No immediate plans, but anything is possible," I finally replied.
"A cryptic reply if I ever heard one."
"Well, you have to allow a girl to keep a few secrets."
"I suppose so. Anyway, I just called to update you on the story and to thank you for the exclusive.
"Thank you for the update and your welcome, Rick. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, DD."
'If the hornets weren't stirred up before, they most assuredly will be by the end of next week. I wonder if Bobby has a subscription to Log Views or not. I guess the only difference it would make is, should I expect to see him on Wednesday or Friday.'
I took one of our standard 'Letter of Intent' to Nancy and asked her to produce several that did not have the Piermont logo. For the ability of being used generically I requested several other changes, as well. I also asked her to call Allison Paper, for me. I'd been back in my office for a minute or so when my phone rang.
"Yes, Nancy?"
"I have Allison Boudreaux for you, Miss Drake."
"Thank you, Nancy."
"This is Miss Drake," I cheerfully greeted, when I heard the telltale click of the connection being made.
"Good morning Miss Drake, this is Allison Boudreaux, of Allison Paper, I'm pleased to hear from you. May I assume you’re calling in response to the letter I sent you?" I couldn't help but notice her very Southern Bell accent.
"I am indeed, Miss Boudreaux."
"Please, call me Allison. Miss Boudreaux sounds so formal. It sounds like someone is calling for ma, ma."
"I understand complete, Allison, and you may as well call me DD, almost everyone does."
"Very well, DD it is. So, how may I help you?"
"Well, about this offer to sell your company," I started.
"Yes, daddy is so upset about it, he's devoted most of his life to this company and now, according to South Core, it’s not worth anything. We hate to sell her but we can't think of any way out."
Right then I knew what had been going on. I didn't need to see the books; they would just confirm what I now knew. Allison's statement of their problem, including the name South Core, told me everything needed to know.
"Allison, I am sorry you've had such a run of problems. However, concerning the possible purchase of Allison Paper, I don't make a decision like this without a firsthand look see, if you know what I mean. I'd like to come down there and look the place over, but my time is very limited right now. Would this afternoon be convenient?"
"This afternoon? Oh my, that is sudden, but yes, this afternoon would be just fine. What time should we expect you?"
"That's a little tough to estimate, my inspection team is scattered at the moment. However, my best guess will put us landing at your Monroe County Airport between 3:30 and 4:00. That is the airport closest to the plant, isn't it?"
"Yes, that's the closest airport. What's this about a team?"
"Yes, my inspection team. I always take a team of experts with me. It helps to avoid problems for both parties. Although, on this trip there will be a few extras, I'll explain when we arrive."
"All right then, we'll be looking forward to visiting with you this afternoon."
"I look forward to meeting with you and your Father, Allison."
Next on my list was to check with Bill and see what he's found out about Allison Paper. He seemed a little surprised when I entered his office, after knocking first.
'It was already 10:30 and the clock was ticking fast.'
"DD, what are you doing here?"
"I came to see what you found out about Allison Paper."
"But you didn't have to walk over here. I'd have come to your office."
"Bill, relax. I've finished the plans for our flight and I have an hour to spare before I have to go pre-flight the King Air."
"Our flight?"
"Yes, I need your expertise once more."
"But, Boss, Allison Paper makes formed paper products."
"I know they produce formed products, this isn't for us, Bill. We're going to help a friend - we're going to help Roy Blu."
"So what's the rush? Can't this wait until we get back from Canada?"
"By then South Core will have forced Allison into a giveaway sale, which translates into ‘We're here to steal your company’."
"So we're going to help Roy snatch a plumb away from South Core? That sounds good, I'm in."
"Well now, that's the real question, isn't it? Is it a plumb or a bunch of sour grapes?"
"Well DD, that's what my preliminary information shows. The situation at Allison looks like a typical South Core take over. They went through an expansion phase three years ago. It wasn't an all-out replace everything expansion, but a more reasonable, expand the building and install some forming equipment that was newer than what they were currently running. Then two years ago their volume started dropping off. Three months ago, because of delinquencies, they were put on cash only status by most vendors."
"I wonder if their sales department has been influenced by South Core?" I asked softly.
"I don't have any information about their sales people, but I do know that most of their production is geared around one product, formed paper egg cartons."
"Diversifying the product line would be Roy's problem. As far as their sales people are concerned, I wish we could take Matt along."
"Well, why can't we take Matt along?" Bill asked.
"We should have thought of that sooner. I'm sure Bob and John are in the air already," I bemoaned having our headquarters operations split up would cause a never ending string of difficulties.
"What does Bob and John have to do with it, Matt's here. He's downstairs with the sales staff."
"What, since when?"
"He flew down Monday, on a commercial flight."
"Why am I the last one to hear about these things?" I asked, along with making an exaggerated gesture with my arms.
Chuckling, Bill replied, "I can't answer that question. But he is here if you want him to come along."
"Well, why not. All we have to do is swap planes with Bob, in St Louis. I think I'll go have a little talk with Matt. Bill, I'll be leaving here at 11:30 to pre-flight the plane and file a flight plan. Will you be ready to leave then, or do you like a little more time to finish up your research?"
"I could use some more time."
"Okay, but you'll need to be at the plane by 12:15, we need to be in the air by 12:30."
"I'll be there," Bill confirmed.
I left Bill's office and went back to mine. After putting the charts back in my chart case, I collected everything I needed to spend the rest of the day on the road, or rather, in the air. I stopped at Nancy's desk and picked up the updated Letter of Intent. I also gave her a copy of my itinerary for the rest of the day and asked her to arrange for a limo or a couple of cars, to be waiting the Monroe County Airport.
Taking the elevator to the first floor, I headed for the office Matt was apparently going to use when he's in JC. Still shunning the executive suits, Matt prefers to be close to his sales staff. As usually, his door was open and he was on the phone. I knocked gently and he waved me towards a chair.
"Morning boss, what can I do for you?" Matt asked, after he concluded his phone call.
"First you can tell me why I didn't know you were in the building," I said, just a little gruffly to see if I could get a rise out of him.
"But . . . I didn't . . . I'm sorry. Should I have check in with you or your secretary?"
"Of course you don't need to check in with me. I was just taken by surprise when I was told you were here. But, as always it's good to see you."
Matt relaxed once he realized I wasn't really upset. Smiling, he again asked, "So, what can I do for you?"
"You can clear your afternoon schedule and come with me for a plane ride."
Matt chuckled and replied, "DD, I'm flattered but aren't you a little young for me?"
I smiled and shook my head at Matt's humor. "Bill will be coming along and we're picking up John in St Louis."
"Oh well, I guess we really didn't want to start any rumors about the boss and someone that is old enough to be her Great Grand Father. Where are we off to?"
"We're helping Roy Blu snatch up a company before the South Core vultures land on them."
Matt growled softly and stated, "I hate those people. When do we leave?"
"I'm leaving now. Bill will be leaving for the airport about noon. I'm sure he'd enjoy your company."
"That would give me about thirty minutes to make arrangements to be gone the rest of the day. I'll give Bill a call as soon as we're done here."
"That's great Matt. Could I borrow your phone for a moment?"
"Sure thing, boss."
Matt handed me the handset and I asked him to dial Nancy for me.
"Piermont Paper, Executive offices. How may I help you?"
"Hello Nancy, its Miss Drake."
"Yes Miss Drake, I thought you'd left the building. What can I do for you?"
"I stopped to talk with Mr. Piermont before leaving. He's going to be making the trip, along with Bill and John. I'd like you to call Roy Blu and ask him to bring his sales manager with him. Also, there will now be eight people to transport from the airport to and from the paper plant, in Alabama."
"Yes, Miss Drake. I'll take care of everything."
"Thank you Nancy. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Have a safe trip, Miss Drake."
I handed the handset back, to Matt. "And, I'll see you in a little while, Matt," I said, as I stood to leave.
"We'll be there," Matt replied, as I reached his office door.
The trip to the Jefferson City airport, the preflight, and filling of my flight plan, were all uneventful. Bill and Matt arrived right on time and we were soon airborne. The short hop to St Louis was a lovely little flight, clear skies and no wind to speak of.
We were in range of the Spirit of St Louis control center almost as soon as we were in the air. I contacted them to identify myself and declare my intentions. I also requested the frequency for their ground control. Contacting the St Louis ground control I requested that they put me in touch with someone that rented out tie down spaces, in the private plane area of the airport. The process went quickly and before we touched down we had a ground destination, where we would temporally secure the King Air. Once we were on the ground, I informed ground control of the imminent arrival of Bob and the G1, requesting that they be directed to the same location.
We'd been waiting about ten minutes when Bill pointed out the G1 gently touching down. I hadn't shut down the radios and had to shake my head as we listened to the various comments about the colorful plane and the speculation as to its ownership, on our secondary radio. Our secondary radio was used for unofficial communications between planes. Matt being the jokester that he is, leaned into the cockpit and grabbed the mike, of the secondary radio, he proudly declared that the colorful plane was nicknamed Flower Power One and was the flagship of Piermont Paper’s small fleet of aircraft.
"Piermont Paper, isn't that the company that's being run by a little girl?" we heard someone ask.
"Yeah, I think you is right," was another remark.
"Isn't they based in Vermont, what they doing down here?"
"I read in the paper a few weeks back there was a fire at their headquarters in Vermont."
"That's right; I read it in the Paper Press. I also read that they moved their operation to Jefferson City."
"So is there really a little girl running the company?"
"That's right, her name is Darla Anne Drake, although I hear she's not so little anymore, I think she's seventeen or eighteen by now."
"Didn't she rescue Piermont Paper from bankruptcy when she was thirteen?"
"You've got to be joking. No thirteen year-old girl can run a paper company."
"That's what was reported by the Paper Press. They've been following her carrier for the last four plus years."
"So is she on board that colorful plane?"
Bill apparently couldn't resist the temptation and picked up the mike, "No, she's not aboard Flower Power One, but in about fifteen minute she will be piloting that plane when it takes off, headed for Alabama."
"Bill," I complained. "You didn't have to tell everyone our plans."
"A seventeen year-old girl is going to fly that big airliner?"
"That's right. She bought it about a year ago and fly’s it all around the country." I recognized Bob's voice.
"The plane just taxied past us and there's a man in the pilot’s seat."
"And there's a couple of kids waving out of two rear windows."
I figured since everyone else was getting in on the fun I might as well join them. Taking the mike from Bill I announced, "That would be my Executive Vice President, Robert Warren, and his family. They're spending a couple of days over at Six Flags enjoying some well-deserved family time."
"Miss Drake - was that you?"
"Did someone say Miss Drake was here?"
"Really, where? I've never seen her in person, only the pictures in Paper Press."
"She's really just a teenager, and she's running a big company?"
"I don't know where she is, but that psychedelic plane is still moving."
"I don't know where Miss Drake is, but I'll bet she'll be close to where that big plane stops. And yes she's a seventeen year-old girl."
"It's going past us now. It looks like they're going all the way to the end of the ramp."
"Everyone listen up, this is Peter Morris, from the St Louis Post-Dispatch. If anyone gets some good clear shots of Miss Drake my publisher will pay you for them."
"Really? That colorful plane has stopped just up from me, too bad I don't have a camera."
They had indeed stopped, just behind the King Air.
"Well, shall we go face our adoring public?" I asked Bill and Matt.
"That would be your adoring public, boss," Matt said, with a grin.
"That's right, to them we're a couple of nobody's," Bill added.
"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," Matt agreed.
"You're both cowards," I jokingly chided them.
We left the King Air and waited for Bob to shut down the G1's engines. I was surprised when the door opened shortly after the port engine was shutdown, the starboard engine was still idling. Bob smiled and waved just before he lowered the stairs.
Bob came down first, followed by his two kids, and lastly his wife. We all exchanged greetings, then I asked where John was.
"John's in the cockpit, keeping an eye on things," Bob replied.
"Why didn't you shutdown both engines?" Bill asked.
"Well, from what I heard over the radio, you'll be leaving shortly. I knew you'd be leaving right away, I just wasn't expecting you to be taking the G1," was Bob's logical reply.
"Being that Matt was in JC I decided to take him along, to do some teaching with Roy's sales manager. I can stuff eight into the King Air, with one on the jump seat and one on the lavatory box, but it just doesn't make for a comfortable ride," I explained.
"Well, you're right about that. When do you expect to be back? Bob wanted to know.
"Just guessing, I'd say between 8:00 and 9:00 tonight, why?"
"Well before bed time," Bob replied, surprising me with his answer.
"You're planning on sleeping in the plane?" Bill asked.
"Why not get a hotel room, for the night?" Matt added.
"Well, barring the absence of room service, the seats are quite comfortable. If we tilt them all the way back, add a blanket, perhaps a pillow, we should be quiet cozy," Helen Warren quietly replied.
"I hadn't thought of that, but okay. If you think you'll be comfortable, I have no complaints," I conceded. "Well, Matt, Bill, I guess we should get going. Bob, I'll see you in Portland, Monday morning. Have fun kids," I called out, as I started up the steps, into the G1. Bob's kids cheered excitedly.
As Bill brought up the steps and latched the door, I went forward and greeted John as I climbed into the pilot's seat. Quickly running down the check list and we were ready to restart the port engine. After getting clearance we started to move towards the taxiway that would take us to the designated runway.
The flight to Scottsboro was uneventful although shorter than expected. I’d calculated our arrival time based on the speed of the King Air, not the G1. In route I had John call Nancy to inform Roy and Allison of the updated arrival times.
We landed in Scottsboro and taxied to what appeared to be the only airport structure, that wasn’t a private hangar. Being that we were a little early, I shut down both engines and had bill open the door and lower the steps. Bill and John followed me as I went to the airport office building. I’d forgotten just how hot and humid Alabama could be, in the middle of July, until we left the comfort of the air conditioned G1. We were almost to the office building when the door opened and out came Roy Blu, followed by three other men.
“Hello Roy,” I greeted, as I offered him my hand.
“How y’all doing?” Roy replied. Then he asked, “What da’ ya’ call that thing?”
“We call that thing an airplane,” John quickly replied.
“Okay, it do sorta look like a airplane, but why’s it look like ta inside of a hippy van?” Ray wanted to know.
“That Roy is a long story,” I replied. “Why don’t we continue this conversation inside the hippy van instead of here on the tarmac, I guarantee that it’s cooler inside.”
“Sounds good to me,” Roy agreed.
“I agree,” Bill added.
It didn’t take long to get back to the G1 and get everyone inside. It was cooler inside, but with the door open it was warming up fast.
I started on the introductions, “Roy, I’m sure you remember my VP of Finance, William Marshall, and my VP of Production Engineering, John Fahey. I’d also like you to meet Matthew Piermont, our VP of Sales and Marketing.”
“Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure. This here is my Chief Engineer, Walter Crowley. My Chief Accountant, Rex Howard. And this here is my Sales Manager, Spencer Mathews.”
“Gentlemen, welcome aboard. I hope you’ll find the afternoon to be enlightening,” I said. “Why don’t we pair up according to our job function for the flight down to Monroe County? That way we can talk about what we plan to accomplish. Roy, that means you're up front with me.”
“Up front, ya mean - in ta cockpit, as in, you is flying this thing an - ya want me in there, with y'all?” Roy sounded more than a little nervous.
"What's the matter Roy, you don't believe women should or can fly?" I asked.
"Well, no, um, I'm sure that women make fine pilots. I just didn't think, I mean I don't -"
"Roy, stop stuttering and start moving," I said, as I parted the curtains as stepped into the cockpit.
I had almost finished the pre-flight check list before Roy appeared through the curtains.
I looked at Roy's pale complexion and smiled to myself as I quietly asked, "Roy, don't tell me a big strong man like you is afraid of flying?"
"No, no, I like flying jest fine, as long as I'm not doing the flying - - - and I can just pretend I'm on a big bus."
I thought for a moment and realized it was the cockpit windows that would really amplify Roy's problem, "It’s okay Roy, your secret is safe with me. Why don't you go find a seat somewhere in the 'back of the bus'. We'll have time to talk while the guys are doing their inspections."
"You sure about that, you don't need no hep or nuttin?"
"No Roy, I'm fine. I've been flying this plane . . . I mean I've been driving this bus off and on, for about nine months. You go sit back and relax. We'll be at the Monroe county airport in about half an hour."
"Only half an hour, you drive offal fast for such a young bus driver."
Giggling, I replied, "I do indeed, Roy, I do indeed."
"OK DD, if you is sure."
"I'm sure, Roy."
Roy look a lot better as he turned and headed back through the curtains.
The short flight South held no surprises, clear skies, no wind to speak of, and fortunately for Roy no turbulence. When lifting off and landing I tried to make sure there was no bouncing. I landed Northeast to Southwest, on the single runway. After coming to a stop, I turned around on the runway to taxi back up to what appeared to be the terminal. I thought it odd that there wasn't a taxiway running parallel to the runway, but it was what it was.
Roy and I were the last to exit the plane. I stopped him and asked, "Well, how was it?"
He smiled at me and said, "You're an excellent bus driver, better than most I've ridden with."
There was a stretch limo waiting for us, by the small terminal building. As always, Nancy had taking care of the necessary details. The driver had the address for the plant and we were soon on our way.
It took about twenty minutes to reach Allison Paper, during which I asked Bill to bring everyone up to speed on the situation at Allison. It was pretty much what I expected, steadily increasing volume, expansion, and a short time later orders start dropping off. The current situation was one we've seen before, behind on payments to the bank and the suppliers, waiting for the walls to be pulled down.
I was a little surprised to find neither Allison nor her Father waiting for us, when we arrived. Although, we were a little early. Roy and I went to the receptionist's desk.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Good afternoon, I'm Darla Anne Drake, Allison Bordeaux is expecting me," I pleasantly replied.
"Yes, Miss Drake, Miss Bordeaux informed me of your arrival. I'll let her know you're here. If you and your party would like, you may wait in the conference room, it's just through the here," she indicated the door behind her and to her right.
"That will be just fine, Miss . . .?”
"Oh, it’s Misses, Mrs. Marilyn Bradley," she replied, as she picked up the handset of her phone console.
"Thank you, Mrs. Bradley," I replied, before turning towards the conference room door, which Roy was already holding open.
I took a seat near the middle of the average size conference table. Bill sat on my right and Roy left. It was a little strange not having Bob on my left, but this was really Roy's show we were just here as advisers. Besides, Bob really needed to be spending the time with his family. Even if I was looking at a adding to Piermont, I wouldn't have taken Bob away from his family, not this time.
I heard the door open, behind and to my left. I heard a female voice proclaim, "Miss Drake, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
I stood and turned to greet Allison, "Allison Bordeaux I presume, the pleasure is mine."
At that moment Roy stood up and turned towards Allison. Allison was surprised, almost in shock by Roy's presence. It only took a moment for her brain to catch up with the situation.
"Uncle Roy! What are you doing here?'
"Uncle Roy?" I asked, somewhat surprised.
"We're not actually related," Roy quickly stated, as he looked at me. "I've just been a friend of the family for a long time. Turning back to Allison Roy continued, explaining, "DD called me this morning and told me you was in trouble. How come I have to hear about this from DD and not from you?"
"I'm sorry Uncle Roy, knowing that you lost MoPaper two years ago, we didn't think you'd be in a position to help. We knew that Piermont bought you out, when you was in a bind, and we were hoping they could do the same for us."
"I suppose it's nice to be thought of as a rescuer instead of as a conniving corporate raider," I said with a smile, looking at Roy.
"Hey, I apologized for that," Roy quickly stated.
"Yes you did. Just a little jab between friends, but back to business. Allison, I was about to send you a reply to your letter, stating, 'I'm sorry but Piermont isn't interested in a formed paper products company'." I instantly saw Allison's demeanor change. "That is, until I found out more about your situation. It was only after I called and talked with Roy that we decided to come down and look over the situation."
"I'm confused Miss Drake, does that mean you are interested in buying the company or you are not interested in buying the company?" Allison asked.
"Allow me to clarify; I am not interested in purchasing a company that produces formed paper products. I am interested in helping someone who is being forced out of business by an unscrupulous competitor, namely South Core. Assuming everything checks out, during our evaluation, Roy will be the one buying your company. Myself, and my executives, are here in an advisory capacity."
"I'm still a little confused by all of this, Miss Drake. How do you know about South Core?"
"We've had many dealings with South Core, over the years, I'm sorry to say. However, because of those dealings, we've learned how to spot their underhanded tactics."
"And they were more than generous with me," Roy added. "Allison, where's your daddy?"
She frowned and shook her head, slightly, "He's in his office on the phone, yelling at some banker."
"I know how he feels, dam bankers," Roy cursed.
"Yes, I guess you could say that banks and bankers are a necessary evil in today's business world. However time is short, we need to get started," I added, bring everyone back to the task at hand.
We proceeded with the formal introductions, I introduced my people and Roy introduced his. I asked Allison for a brief history of the company and more details about their current situation. Everything she told us agreed with what Bill had come up with. Then Allison arranged for someone to guide Bill and Rex Howard to the accounting office. Likewise Matt and Spencer Mathews were shown to the sales office. John, along with Walter Crowley, Roy, and I were ready to accompany Allison to the plant floor, to begin our tour and evaluations, when an older gentleman entered the conference room.
"Bo, good to see you again," Roy exclaimed. "DD, allow me to introduce one of the last remaining gentleman in this cut throat business of ours, Beauregard Boudreaux. Beauregard, this is Miss Darla Anne Drake, President of Piermont Paper Products, and the only Princess in our industry."
"I am honored, my lady," Mr. Boudreaux said, as we both extended our hands for a friendly shake, although, instead of shaking my hand, he rotated and kissed the back of my hand.
"Mr. Boudreaux, that was . . . unexpected," I responded, with a slight blush.
"Roy said you are a princess, and royalty must be treated with courtesy," Mr. Boudreaux explained.
"I'm sure Roy was exaggerating a bit more than normal. I am not royalty," I confessed.
"You may not be royalty, DD, but you have a reputation for being fair, and sometimes even generous, that sets you way above the rest, and that makes you a princess in my book," Roy elaborated.
"Thank you Roy, that's very kind of you, but don't overdo it. And, thank you Mr. Boudreaux, I've never had anyone kiss my hand before" I added.
"My pleasure Miss Drake. Please, call me Bo, as the rest of my friends do," Mr. Boudreaux requested.
"Very well, Bo it is, providing you call me DD."
"Hum mm, Princess DD. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Roy asked, more like thinking out loud.
"Don't you even think something like that Roy," I cautioned. "If someone at Paper Press heard anyone say that it would be spread across the country faster than a wild fire through the open prairie."
"I don't know, Princess DD does have a certain ring to it," Allison added.
I just shook my head, asking, "Shouldn't we start our tour of the plant." Trying desperately to change the subject and get the afternoon back on track.
"Indeed we should, DD. If you and Roy would follow us," Bo said, taking Allison's hand and leading the way.
The tour went as expected, pulping, forming, although I noticed the machines didn't press the overlapping layers as tightly as in Piermont's plants. They actually fluffed up the layers as they were blown dry. After our tour, Roy and I found a quiet corner in the break room to talk about general finance philosophies, while we waited for our guys to finish their investigations.
Evaluations finished, Roy and I met with our teams, back in the conference room. Bill led off, saying, "The situation is as we expected, Miss Drake, and mostly agrees with my initial investigation. Allison Paper is delinquent in its payments to the bank by $120,000 with a loan balance of $6,453,783. They are also sitting on an AP of approximately $110,000. The normal suppliers have stopped dealing with them or placed them in the high risk status."
"Thank you Mr. Marshal for your hard work and insight. Mr. Fahey, your report?"
"Yes ma'am, the situation here is pretty much the same as we seen before. The equipment is only in fair condition as proper maintenance has been slipping. However, the problem isn't because of a reduced maintenance staff, it's due to a lack of motivation."
"Yes, I saw the same thing on the production floor. Not quite as bad as we saw at Appellation, but a definite attitude problem. Anything else?" I added, and asked.
"No ma'am, Walter and I compiled a list of equipment specific problems. He knows what is needed to bring everything up to excellent condition," John conclude.
"Thank you. Mr. Piermont, what did you and Mr. Mathews learn about the sales department?"
"It's worse than we expected, boss. The only reason for the decline in sales is because of the action of the sales staff. It's true that some volume was lost due to healthy competition, but most of the lost volume was because of what appears to deliberate sabotage. Some major house cleaning will be required immediately. If we were buying this company today, I’d be firing just over half the staff tomorrow." As usual, Matt was certainly not holding back.
"Well, that certainly paints an interesting picture. Thank you Mr. Piermont, Mr. Mathews. Gentlemen, this is a little unusually, but would all of you wait in the lobby for a few minutes? I'd like to talk with Roy, privately for, a few minutes."
As everyone left, Bill paused and gave me a questioning look.
"It's ok Bill, we're just going to discuss negotiation tactics," I told him, easing his concerns.
Bill then smiled and closed the door.
"So, what do you think, Roy?"
"I don't know, DD. I'd say this place is worth about - twelve million. There's no way I'd be able to get a loan that size, not without using my plant for collateral," Roy complained.
"You're right on one point, Roy. This company should be worth twelve million, that's unquestionably why South Core wants it. However, no one said anything about a loan or collateral. Also, remember what I told you about your plant in Scottsboro, you own it free and clear, if you never borrow against it or use it as collateral, no one will ever take it away from you. Now about Allison Paper, the question isn't what the company should be worth, it's about the fact that South Core wants it and they've created a situation where you can steal it out from under their noses for slightly more than what you have in your cash reserve."
"And just how do I go about doing that?"
"You can do it because we know how South Core works. They'll come in here, next week, and graciously offer to take over the loan and give Allison and Beauregard something in the neighborhood of $200,000, but insisting that they pay off the $110,000 AP, leaving them with $90,000 for their trouble. Now, were I negotiating for Piermont, I'd assume all debts and offer them $500,000. Being that they are almost family you could offer them more, but I wouldn't go over One Million."
"But I don't have a million, remember $500,000 in cash reserve and $100,000 in a slush fund."
Shaking my head, I continued, "You weren't lessening when I was talking about creative financing. Let me spell it out simply, you make an offer of between $500,000 and $1,000,000 for the company. They'll be crazy to reject your offer because nothing better is going to come along before the bank forecloses. Then, from your $500,000 cash reserve you pay off the arrears at the bank of $120,000. That will appease the bank and then you start making the payments according to the established schedule. Now you have thirty to ninety days for your accountants to completely go over the books and verify the accounts and the amounts owed. After the accounts are verified you pay off the $110,000 AP, which will put you back into the good graces with the suppliers. Meanwhile you get the sales department cleaned up and go after new orders."
"What about the $500,000 to a $1,000,000 to Beauregard and Allison? I don't have it."
"But you do have one fifth of it. You just establish the term of the sale as one fifth payable at the time of the formal closing, after the lawyers do their thing. And then a payment of one fifth, none interest bearing, for the next four years on the anniversary of the formal closing."
"Let me think about this for a second." - "So, with the $120,000 to the bank, the $110,000 in AP, that would leave me with $270,000 in my cash reserve. If I offer One Million for the company that would be five payments of $200,000, spread out over four years, but only one payment of $200,000 right now. That would net me a $12,000,000 company for an initial investment of just less than my $500,000."
"Now you've got it, Roy," I said, with a smile.
With a sigh he added, "But that almost completely wipes out my cash reserve."
"That it would, temporarily. How long do you think it will take to bring your cash reserve back up to $500,000 with two plants, both running in the black?"
"I don't know, most of that $500 thou was amassed while we were running through the million in supplies that you gave me as part of the buyout of MoPaper."
"I told you 'A smart man would turn that million in supplies into two million in sales.' Are you still a smart man, Roy?"
"I'd like to think so. Why, you going to give me another million in supplies?""
"I'm not in the business of giving away money, Roy, nor am I a bank. However, being that Piermont is currently buying and distributing supplies for over fifty plants, one more won't make any difference."
"What are you saying, DD?"
"What I'm saying is, I'll arrange for you to purchase the majority of your regular supplies from Piermont at our cost, for one year or until your cash reserve is back at $500,000, whichever comes first".
"DD, that's fantastic, thank you, but what do you mean by the majority of our regular supplies?"
"Roy, the formed paper process is a little different from chemically treated, correct?" Roy nodded, as I continued. "This offer only applies to what Piermont routinely purchases. I'm not going to start buying some specialty product just for your operation."
"You're right of course, I wouldn't expect you to buy supplies that you don't use. That's still a generous offer, and I thank you, but why?"
"Two reasons, I like helping good honest people. You are honest, aren't you Roy?" Roy smiled and nodded, so I continued. "And, I haven't had the opportunity to 'stick it' to some dishonest people for at least a day."
The look on Roy's face told me he desperately wanted to ask a question. I just smiled and shook my head. After that, we discussed a couple more things that Roy needed to know, before he went about acquiring Allison Paper, then it was time for negotiations.
The negotiations were brief, Mr. Boudreaux and Allison readily accepted Roy's offer. Mr. Boudreaux would be retiring while Allison would be staying on as the plant manager.
On the way to the airport, I asked our driver if there was a department store in town. He informed me that there was and after a little detour we came to a stop in front of a Sears and Roebuck. Roy and his people wore expressions of confusion.
Bill was the only one courageous to ask, "What are we doing here, Miss Drake?"
"I need a few things," I simply replied, as the driver opened the door.
"Now?" Bill asked.
"No time like the present," I answered with a smile, as I took the driver's offered hand, to help me out, before asking, “Mr. Fahey, would you give me a hand?"
John smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and scrambled out of the limo.
Once inside I told John what I wanted and sent him in one direction while I went another. Twenty minutes later we met up and headed for the check stands. As we passed through the exterior doors, with two large bags and several smaller bags, the driver rushed to open the trunk of the limo.
"Thank you. We're ready to return to the airport now," I told the drive, as he opened the door for John and me.
It was a short trip back to Scottsboro, where we bid farewell to Roy and his staff. We were airborne fifteen minutes later and on our way to St Louis. While we were in route to St Louis, I had Bill and John get the back of the plane ready for Bob and his family. Seats were laid back, as far as they could go, and made up as beds with white sheets, small pillows, and blankets that closely matched the planes upholstery. After we landed, and just before I exited, I added the final touch, a large foil wrapped mint chocolate on each pillow.
Not a five star hotel, but we do what we can.
After John retrieved his luggage from the baggage compartment of the G1 we were on our way, back to JC.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]
DD Rides Again - chapter 9
Author:
Audience Rating:
Publication:
Genre:
Character Age:
Permission:
Chapter 9
By Penny Reed Cardon
This is a Fanfic of Crystal Sprite’s story Texas Gal.
Chapters 1 – 50 of Crystal’s story can be found on Crystal’s Story Site.
http://www2.storysite.org/a_crystal01.html
Chapters 51 – 53 are found on Big Closet.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/author/csprite
This Fanfic is a result of my warped imagination and I take full responsibility thereof.
It has been said that this is not a true fanfic because it is a continuation of Crystal’s story.
It is true that this is a continuation of her story, but according to my imagination.
It is not intended to depict how Crystal would continue the story.
Chapter 9
Friday, July 21, 1972
"Good morning everyone and welcome to our first 'phone in' executive staff meeting," I stated in greeting, as I opened our Friday meeting. "Before Bob and John flew to Brandon, last Wednesday evening, Bob made arrangements for the speaker phone on our conference table. The plan was that Bob, Matt, and John would be joining this morning's meeting by phone, from Brandon. It's very obvious to everyone assembled that the plans changed. I'd like to welcome both Matt and John to JC. I'd also like to acknowledge Bob's absence. He's spending some much needed time with his family. I still wanted to tryout the new phone, so we have Jerry joining us by phone from Portland. How are things in Portland, Jerry?"
"Good morning everyone," Jerry's voice reverberated from the new phone, in the middle of the conference table. "It's a lovely day here in Portland, light clouds, and a gentle wind out of the Northwest."
"Hey there Jerry, send that wind our way, it's going to be a scorcher here in JC," Tom quickly interjected.
We heard Jerry chuckle before adding, "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you Jerry, I'm sure everyone here appreciates your efforts," I replied, with a smile. "However, with Ron and Gerard joining us here in JC, we have a full house, with the exception of Bob.
"And speaking of Bob, in his absence I'll start things rolling with a brief overview of last weeks activities. For anyone who hasn't heard, we acquired 15 additional plants during last weeks buying spree. They consist of mostly news print but with a couple of chemically treated plants in the mix. In addition we've entered into a Limited Partnership agreement with 17 plant owners. We can discuss what a limited partnership means later. However if our estimate is correct, there isn't another independent or single owner, plant in the entire Northwest that is endanger of being forced out of existence. I'm sure that once that news becomes public there will be a lot of yelling in Spokane." That announcement was followed by chuckling and applause from around the table.
"Bill, if you would be so kind."
”My pleasure DD, we're still working on the break even cost for each of the newspaper plants. It's taking a bit longer than I'd estimated because of the sheer number of new plants. Of course, I'm expecting our overall cost to go down because the 13 newsprint plants in the Northwest won't have a loan payment, once the purchases are finalized.
"The situation with shipping paper to our customer's has greatly improved. We used to have shipping arrangements to all of our plants 2 days ahead of the shipment date. That meant that the Monday and Tuesday, after the fire, shipments went out as normal. That was on June 26 & 27. After that, everything came to a halt and nothing moved for 9 days as the warehouses started filling up.
"We got Mark, Shrilly, and the rest of the shipping staff set up in some office space on Tuesday and Wednesday. They knew we had to get paper moving as quickly as possible.”
"Shrilly?" I asked.
"Shrilly Richardson," Ben answered. "She was one of the 5 that volunteered to come down for 30 days to help get things organized. Shrilly flew down on Tuesday July 4th. Along with the other temporaries that flew down from Brandon. Mark drove down, as he was moving down to JC permanently. He arrived on the morning of July 5th."
Bill continued after Ben’s explanation. “Shrilly having the most seniority of the group assumed a leadership role. She came back in on Tuesday afternoon but discovered there was nothing to do, with no paperwork available. She did know that some customers could hold out longer than others. With no information available about our customers’ status, Shrilly called Matt and requested that the sales department in each region contact all the customers to check their status. After Mark was settled in his hotel, on Wednesday, he came back in to the office and jumped right in. The rest of Wednesday, Mark and Shrilly called every warehouse manager to get the status of our truck fleet and drivers. As the customer information started coming in they started arranging for trucks to be loaded and dispatched. The customers with the lowest inventory were on the top of their list.
"Thursday afternoon, July 6th, the first of our trucks started rolling. It was slow going as there were only the 6 people doing the job that was previously done by 40. Add to that, that they were doing everything by hand and mostly they were working from their own memories. Thursday they managed to arrange for paper to be shipped to almost 1% of our customers."
“1%?” I asked.
“Actually a little less than 1%, but that was just the first full day. After returning from our trip into the Northwest I found out that on Friday the 7th shipments went out to another 2% of our customers. All 6 of the folks arranging for shipping came in on Saturday and Sunday, to get ahead on the scheduling. The following Monday Ben organized what we’re calling our shipping department with Mark Johnson as the department supervisor. That day shipments were sent to the next 3% of the most in need customers and 4% on Tuesday. The volume of shipments held at about 4% for Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. With having just 6 people doing the work that used to be done by 40, that’s quite an achievement. The regional managers, which Ben had arranged for, arrived on Thursday the 13th. About half of the new hires started on Friday, and the regional managers begin their training. The daily shipments have been increasing each day this week. As of right now the shipping department is able to schedule shipments to 10 to 12% of our customers each day.”
“So as I understand it, we’re capable of sending a shipment to every customer every 8 to 10 days?” I inquired.
“That’s correct,” Bill confirmed. “Although some of them have larger warehouses and don’t require shipments that often.”
“That’s terrific, simply an outstanding job by everyone involved. Just out of curiosity, what was the shipment percentage before the fire?” I wanted to know.
“We averaged a daily shipment rate of 12% of all our customers,” Bill confirmed.
“Outstanding! A mere 30 days after the loss of our corporate offices in Brandon, moving our offices almost half way across the country, and we’re essentially fully recovered as far as moving paper is concerned. Do you have anything else Bill?”
“Just an update about your last little buying trip, up in the Northwest, DD. We spent an average $3.5 million for the 15 plants we purchased last week plus the $15 million for DeForest Paper. That’s a total of $67.5 million, leaving us with $32.5 million from the $100 million from the sale of the timber lands and sawmills. Are we planning on paying off the loans on some of the other plants with the excess? I’m only asking because it will change the overall price per ton.”
“I think we’ll wait until things stabilize a bit more. We have no idea what Alliance is going to do once they have all the details about our buying trip. It might be wise to have a little cash on-hand. Ben, how are things progressing in your arena.”
"Things are starting to settle down in the personnel office," Ben started. "As you heard we've got shipping about where they need to be. We're planning to keep the 5 temporary volunteers for another couple of weeks. Shrilly would like to stay on permanently, but we'd have to find a job for her husband."
"What's he doing now?" I asked.
"He's the 2nd shift lead in the original plant in Brandon," was Ben's reply.
“With bringing the Henderson and Memphis pants on line what openings are there going to be at the JC plant?” John asked, before any else had a chance.
“I know there’s not a 2nd shift lead position open,” Ben replied, straight faced. “There is a 1st shift lead position open.”
John chuckled as I cocked my head and smiled, looking at Ben. “You want to talk with Shrilly and see if her husband would be willing to accept the hardship of taking a 1st shift lead position?”
Ben finally smiled as he replied, “I’ll talk to her as soon as we’re done here.”
“Fine, anything else Ben?”
“As I said, most of the headquarters departments are stabilizing. I’m still working on the additional security that you want and on your Chief of Security. We’ve had a few nibbles to the newspaper ads’ we’ve place and I’ve received some resumes’. I’ll be starting interviews next week. I guess that’s about it.”
“That’s great Ben, thanks. Gerard.”
“Things in the Mid-West are reasonably quiet, with a couple of exceptions. I’ve been a bit concerned about the sudden loss of personal at the JC plant, as we’ve been starting up Henderson and Memphis, but at least I think the 1st shift lead position has been filled. I know the folks in Henderson are real excited to see the plant opening back up. My only other concern is that Sunday Bob is taking about half of my top management people. And, those that aren’t going this Sunday will be going to the Northwest the following Sunday. I know we’re growing like crazy and it’s good to see, it’s also good to give our mid level managers a little more time in the big chairs. There’s a few that I’ll be spending some extra time with, helping them grow into the job, but that’s to be expected. Oh, one last thing. I made arrangements with a flight instructor in Owosso. Like you, he recommended that I pass the written test before we start working with the plane. I’ve picked up some books and I’ve been spending every night studying them. My wife has been complaining that I’m not spending enough time with her. I proposed a solution and she accepted. So now we are both studying and we’ll be taking our exams together.”
“Wonderful, I like your solution,” I complemented. “Have you and Jerry decided who’s getting which plane?”
“I’m keeping the Piper Navajo.” We heard Jerry declare, over the speaker phone.
“Are you sure about that?” Gerard asked Jerry.
“Yes I am!” Jerry proclaimed. “With all the new plants in the Northwest, I’ll need the plane with the most get up and go.”
“Well, I guess I’ll give you that one, Jerry,” Gerard conceded. “I guess I’ll be getting the Cessna 206. Ron looks like you and I are the slow bunnies of the group.”
“That’s OK. I’ve been flying a 206 around for a while now and it gets me where I need to be just fine. Besides, it beats driving to each of my plants,” Ron declared, with a smile.
"Well, I hope the VP for the Northeast region will enjoy being a slow bunny as we already have a 206 for that region," I added to the discussion.
"You mean the 206 that Bob fly’s," ask Matt. "Won't he want that down here so he can get around?"
"We acquired 4 planes with the purchase of De Forest Paper. One is the Piper Navajo that will be staying in the Northwest. Another is the Cessna 206 that we'll be moving to the Midwest region. There were also 2 Beechcraft King Air B90's, I'll be keeping one as my personal plane and Bob will use the other," I explained.
"De Forest paper had four planes?" Ben asked.
"Yes they did," I simply stated. "Their main plant was very remotely located. But we're getting off track again. If that's everything Gerard, let's move on, Ron."
"Overall, everything in the Southeast is running well. Sales are still increasing. Although the rate of increase has slowed a bit, we’re still inline with the other sales offices in the company. I'm still going to be keeping a very close eye on them. The folks in Memphis are excited to see their loved one's coming home. We're still receiving random calls from the folks in Ridgely, wanting to know when their plant is going to re-open. I know the company line is ‘Not until we need the volume.’ But that’s starting to feel like a lie. I know the chances of us re-opening Ridgely is about 1000 – 1. Is there anything else we can officially tell these people?”
“Well, I haven’t discussed this with Ben yet, although Bob and I discussed it briefly. In a month we’ll be reopening the Glide, Oregon, plant. The plant near Walden, Oregon, will come online the month after that. I’m sure there will be a lot of transfers from the Hills Creak plant, but that will just leave openings there, that we’ll have to fill. Now, I’m not going to buy their houses here and I’m not going to buy anyone a house in Oregon, but I will offer Piermont trucks to move their personal effects, if anyone wants to relocate to where there are jobs,” I explained what Bob and I had discussed.
“Is that official, can we tell that to the folks in Ridgely and Paducah?” Ron asked.
I thought about the pros and cons for a few moments. Hoping that something wasn’t going to come back and bite me where I sit, before I answered, “Yes, that’s official. Piermont will provide transportation to anyone wanting to relocate to Oregon. That’s one trip, one way. Any trips they want to make to look things over, look at housing, or whatever, is on their own. If they end up working at Hills Creak they would have lots of time to look for a house after they move in to an apartment. I’m told that the apartments in the dormitories are actually quite nice. Would you agree Bill?”
“Yes, I would agree,” Bill replied. “The room I was staying in was furnished; it had a nice living room, a combination kitchen and dinning room, and an impressively spacious bedroom. There were some units with 2 and 3 bedrooms.”
“So the official company line is; we will pay transportation cost for anyone that wants to relocate to Oregon, in about a month. As for when we will be re-opening Ridgely or Paducah; that will happen when there is a demand for paper from those plants. I know that isn't what they want to hear, but it's the best we can do,” I explained carefully.
"I understand," Ron acknowledged. "I'll build up the relocation angle as being a really great opportunity. I guess that's all I have."
"Thanks Ron. I want you to know that we really appreciate the job you're doing. Jerry, other than crazy, how are things going in the Northwest?"
'Taking a page out of Grandma's play book, I knew that a little schmoozing during a meeting never hurts.'
Jerry chuckled before starting in on his report, "I'm not sure that crazy is the word for it, but life up here isn't dull. The original 13 plants that the region started with haven't been growing as we would like, but it's not because of poor management or employee moral. As you know it's been a struggle keeping customers. Consequently I've asked the sales staff, here in Portland sales office, to ask a few questions whenever their contacting a customer we've sold to in the past and when that customer hasn't placed an order recently. Primarily, we're asking who are they buying from and what they were offered that drew them away from us. We've found that if the questions are worded the right way and in a tone of friendship rather than in adversarial tone or sounding like an interrogation, most of the purchasing agents will openly tell us why they've changed suppliers. What we've found is that by far they've been going to Alliance, but there's no surprise there. What we have found to be surprising is that the sales people at Alliance seem to have a lot of leeway when is comes to stealing our customers. They start off by offering to undercut us by $5 per ton and some switched for just that. If the customer doesn't bite at $5 per ton the sales rep will drop the price by another $2, and so on and so on, until they reach a bottom offer of undercutting us by $15 per ton. If that doesn't sway them over they'll start in on juggling invoice dating, up to 5% off and in some cases up to 3 months out."
"That's absolutely ridiculous," Matt exclaimed. "How on earth can they keep track of how much to charge which customer. Not to mention when they're going to be paid and how much to expect to be paid for the paper they've shipped."
"Well according to our sources, after 2 to 3 months Alliance starts bumping up how much they charge on the invoice," Jerry went on. "Just a little bit with each invoice until they're charging their normal price per ton. As long as the purchasing agents and the account payable accountants don't talk with each other, nobody's the wiser. By the way, Alliance's normal price is about $20 per ton higher than our normal price."
"That's not entirely surprising," I replied. "We know they're underhanded in their dealings with the competition and with their suppliers. It doesn't surprise me that they don't treat their customers any different. The fact that their normal price is higher than ours doesn't surprise me either. Our research showed us that when they buy a plant all the equipment is replaced. Therefore they must be carrying a substantial debt on each plant."
"I wonder what they do with the old equipment?" John off handedly asked.
"Scrapping it or possibly selling it dirt cheep overseas," Gerard speculated.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t be selling it to anyone who they would consider as being competition,” Ron added.
‘That might be why we haven’t been able to sell the forming machine out of Ridgely’ I thought to myself.
“What they’re doing with the old equipment doesn’t really matter to us, what does matter is that they’re installing new equipment. Their labor cost may be lower than ours, but their operating overhead will be higher because of the debt of the installation. Like us, they may have some plants that are debt free to compensate, but knowing that their normal price is that much higher than ours leaves us with a lot of potential customers,” I concluded. “Is there anything else Jerry?”
“Only that some of the plant owners are asking when we’re going to take over so they can leave. Obviously, from the sounds of it people will be arriving on Sunday to begin that process,” Jerry stated.
“That’s correct, Jerry,” I started. “However, Bob won’t start assigning management people to the new plants until Monday afternoon. He and I have other business to attend to Monday morning.”
“You’re coming to Portland next week?” Jerry asked.
John chuckled for a moment before I could reply.
“Yes I am, but let’s save that for future business. Moving on, Matt, how are things in sales?”
“Currently sales are moving along very well. Because of the regional sales offices there was almost no impact due to the fire in Brandon. By the Friday after the fire we had rented enough office space and had enough phone lines hooked up to put the Brandon sales office back on line, in full force. Quite a few of them have been concerned about loosing their jobs, wondering if the moving of the headquarters to JC meant moving the corporate sales offices to JC as well. I told everyone that until they hear it from me; they’re to do their jobs as they have been.
“As for the art department, we’ve kept them intact as well. It took a little longer to recover the lost artwork for the new notebook covers, but the team pulled together and reproduced everything that was lost. The artwork for the new notebooks has been sent to Bloomington and they started production of the covers yesterday.”
“That’s terrific news Matt,” I complemented. “I was wondering if we were going to make the deadline for the notebook covers. It’s great to hear how well the team stepped up and pulled together. Just for my own information, what are the notebook cover designs for this coming semester?”
“Well, over the years we’ve discovered that a few designs are really popular so Flower Power is being brought back as one of this semesters designs, that is flower power was the theme but the design is new. Research has also told us that featuring one of the currently popular bands or singing groups goes over big. This semester we’re featuring The Jackson 5, and next semester they will be replaced with Karen and Richard Carpenter.
"The others in the top ten this semester is a group of Kittens playing. Also, there’s a design featuring an assortment of Puppies. There’s a Paisley design, along with a design with 6 mythical Fairies, a collection of Muscle Cars, an artist rendering of a sea battle with a Pirate Ship, and a picture of the Night sky featuring several Constellations.
"Lastly, one of our artists, Tiffany, said she’d never seen a comic strip as a notebook cover. Another one countered saying, ‘Who would want to see the same cartoon every day.’ Tiffany replied with ‘What if the dialog bubbles were blank? They could make up their own comic every day.’ We all thought that sounded pretty good but what comic strip would be popular enough to make the cut. Eventually, it was decided that Peanuts was one of the most popular comics out there. So I contacted Charles Schulz and pitched the idea. After some discussion it was agreed, Mr. Schulz would do a 5 strip layout without dialog as a contest. Anyone can fill in the dialog bubbles and send a copy of the cover to us, by Thanksgiving. We will forward them to Mr. Schulz who will pick the 5 best. First prize will be $250 and Mr. Schulz will publish their comic. Second prize will be $100, along with 3 Third place prizes of $50.”
“Matt – that’s fantastic. I’ve never heard of anything like that being done. That’s what I call being innovative,” I praised. “Pass my complements on to the entire art department. Anything else?”
“I actually think this counts as new business, but several of our artists have suggested we should get into the market of the 3” X 5” mini spiral notebooks. The demand for them is climbing, in all markets from grade school to business, according to our research. I just don’t know if our existing spiral binders can do a 3X5 or if we have the excess capacity to produce them,” Matt added.
"That's an interesting question, Matt," I added. "Actually, that's 3 interesting questions. The first, should we produce 3X5 mini spirals? I would have to say yes. As to the 3rd question, do we have the capacity to run them? To answer that question I'd have to defer to Bob. However, in Bob's absence I'll have to make a couple of calls while we break for lunch. Now getting back to the 2nd question, will the existing binders produce them? To answer that I would have to ask John."
"I know there was some adjustment capability in the magazines on the 6130's, I just don't remember how much. Normally I'd go refer to the manual in my office, but right now I'm an engineer without an office. I do know who has that information and I can give them a quick call during lunch," John apologized, and explained.
"Looks like we'll both be working through lunch John, anything else Matt?" I pressed on, not making any reference to John's office at this time. We would discuss it later.
"That's everything, except that we've got almost a hundred sales people waiting on Bill and the new price for newsprint," Matt concluded.
"As soon as we have the numbers and DD gives her final approval, you'll be the first one I call," Bill assumed Matt.
"Thanks Matt, Bill. You're up John."
"Well, I haven't started my inspection tour of all the company's production plants yet, someone's been keeping me busy,” he stated, with a smile. “But I had contacted the chief engineer at most of the plants the week before and after the fire in Brandon. At that time they reported that everything was well in their plants. As for the 14 recently acquired plants, I’d say they are about 50 / 50. Some of the owners were cutting costs by cutting maintenance. The other owners knew that without proper maintenance the machines wouldn’t perform like they should. Of those 14 plants, 4 have some very old, slow, formers. Although, I think they would be ideally suited to run the novelty napkins and some of the Appalachian children’s products. Most of the others are comparable with Greenfield and Brandon. A couple of the plants have faster equipment, not quite as new as JC or Concord, more like the equipment in Gorham. I guess that's it for my report on the plants."
"Thank you John. Tom, how’s are things going in purchasing?”
“It appears that we’re a little understaffed again. With all the new plants that have been added it looks like we could use another 3 to 4 people, to handle the additional workload. As for supplies to the existing plants, we've been struggling to keep things rolling. There were some shortages of chemicals to a few plants causing them to slow down for a few days. However with the new people that Ben hired we’ve been able to keep supplies flowing to all of the plants. We’re still watching the new people closely while teaching them the in’s and out’s of purchasing and supply chain management. Everything should be settled and flowing smoothly by the middle of next month, including supplies to all the new plants.
“I’ve contacted Jonathan Roberts, as you suggested, and he jumped at the opportunity to provide chips to our Northwest plants. We’ll be buying all the chips he can produce at the price you and he discussed, for the first year. The price will be reevaluated yearly based upon his costs, not ours, and product availability. With those arrangements he was more than willing to sign a 10 year contract. Mr. Roberts also passed on the names and contact information for another 6 independent logging companies who he thought would be willing to provide chips and logs to Piermont under the same arrangements.”
“Excellent Tom,” I complemented. “I knew that Mr. Roberts was very displeased with one of his other customers. I’m pleased that you were able to work out an arrangement that is agreeable for everyone. Do you have anything else?”
“Just one more item, I was surprised with the arrangement you made with Roy Blu. Just to make sure things there don’t get out of hand, I’ll be handling all his transactions personally,” Tom concluded.
“That great Tom, if there’s any problem with Roy let me know immediately and I’ll take care of it. It’s good to hear how easy you make purchasing sound. I know that keeping the supplies and equipment, for a company this size, flowing is in reality no easy task. You’ve done an amazing job under the most trying times.
“All of you, without each and every one of you Piermont would not be the company that it is today. In fact, without the dedication of each and every one of you Piermont would have never have survived the devastation that the loss of our corporate headquarters could have been. Thank you all.” I paused for a moment to let the sincerity of my last comment sink in.
“I see that it’s almost lunch time, so why don't we break for lunch. Nancy has arranged for something, I'm not sure what, as we've just started sampling from the various local establishments. Sorry Jerry, but you're on your own."
"No problem Boss, I'm all set here, I've got pastrami on rye with sauerkraut. Did you know that Tony deliveries?" Jerry inquired.
"No I didn't, how did you manage that?"
"The first time I went to the diner I told Tony that Darla Anne Drake had recommended his out of the way establishment. After that, he's treated me as if we'd been friends forever. And you're right, the French toast is heavenly."
"That it is, enjoy your lunch Jerry. Just call back in when you're ready, we’ll be here," I informed Jerry. "The rest of you are welcome to stay here and eat, I've got a few calls to make and then I'll be back to join you."
I got up, picked up my pencil and notepad, and headed for the door and the executive suites lobby, with John close behind. Ellen Defranko was at the receptionist desk, being that Nancy was taking notes for the staff meeting.
"Good afternoon Miss Drake, is there something I can do for you?" Ellen asked, as I approached her desk.
"There is Ellen, would you get Peter Emos, in Franklin, for me. After I'm finished with Peter I'd like to speak with Nick Nolan in Evansville and then Ronald Starling in Little Rock. Oh, I'll be at the desk in the library office."
"DD, which office can I use for a little while," John asked.
"You’re welcome to any one of the three empty offices, here in the executive suites," I replied, while pointing out the three offices I was referring to. “Pick which one you’d like and it’s yours anytime you’re here.”
I'd just gotten comfortable behind the desk, in the slowly growing library, when the phone rang. After a short visit with each of the three plant managers and I was heading back to my office, thanking Ellen along the way. We continued talking about the new plants in the Northwest through lunch and beyond. When nothing new was being introduced I brought the discussion to a close by revisiting Matt's proposal to produce the 3X5 mini spiral notebooks.
"It appears that there is some unused capacity on our spiral binding machines," I stated. “According to the plant managers, we're only utilizing approximately 65% of their 2.1 million notebooks per month capacity, of course, that's a yearly average. From July through mid December they're pushed to the max. So from January through June we have quite a bit of available capacity. The next question is for John, will the 6130's produce a 3X5 notebook?"
"I called Lenny Burke and had him check the 6130 manual," John started. "We can adjust the width of the magazines some, but they'll only go down to about 8 inches. The actual measurement is so many Millimeters, it's a European thing. I guess it doesn't really matter to us, but it won't do a 3X5. Although he did say that the length can be adjusted to 14 inches, so we could do something in legal size if we wanted."
"That's interesting," Matt thought aloud. "A legal size spiral bound notebook, may have some possibilities. Would that be with the spiral across the top or along the side?"
"I'm not sure," John replied. "It wasn't the 3 X 5 and that is what I was asking about, so I didn't inquire any further. I can call Lenny back and ask."
"Yes, that would be great. It doesn't have to be today, just when you have a chance," Matt replied, while obviously deep in thought.
"I know that look, Matt. Something shook the hamster loose and the gears are turning. What are you thinking?" I asked.
"Nothing I want to discuss right now," Matt admitted. "Just a few crazy ideas that I’ll need to research time into. Then I’ll let you know if they’re worth discussing."
"OK Matt, take your time. So far all of the products you and your design group have come up with have been stellar performers." I paused a few moments before continuing. “Gentlemen, at this time I’d like to inform you that we’ve been contacted by 5 additional independent paper manufactures, in the Northwest.”
Everyone had a stunned look on their faces, as Jerry exclaimed. “I didn’t think there were any more independent manufactures left in the Northwest.”
"Well, they are technically in the Northwest, but they're a little farther North," I replied.
"Farther North? You mean -" Matt started.
"That's right," I interrupted. "They're in Canada. Piermont Paper is going international."
"I knew we'd be going international someday. I just didn't expect it to be today," Bill said, somewhat stunned.
"Well, Monday actually. Sunday I'll be taking a small group up to do the evaluations and talk with the owners," I informed them.
After the mild laughter died down, I continued, "So, Bill, I'm going to need two accountants at the JC airport at Noon Sunday. I've already talked with John about a couple of engineers."
"Are the accountants going to need to speak and read French?" Bill asked.
"I'm not sure. They're all in British Columbia, so I think everything will be in English. I'll have Nancy check when she makes the appointments."
"Not to be the voice of doom, but why are we looking at these five plants?" Matt asked.
"We're looking at them for the same reason we didn't ignore the independent companies in the Northwest, the one's that didn't want to sell out that is. Instead we set up the partnerships. It's true, we buy out companies if it's a good deal and we've taken advantage of someone else's underhanded tactics. But, Piermont does not force other companies out of business and that’s what would happen to these companies if we do nothing. That's what puts us a step ahead of the competition," I stated.
"Doesn't that also put us in a position to be taken advantage of by someone who is underhanded?" Ben asked.
"Yes it does, Ben, and we must always be on our guard. However, the rewards are there if we keep on doing what we've been doing."
We discussed the ramifications of expanding into Canada a little longer before I adjourned the meeting. I left Nancy to make the arrangements for hotel rooms in Portland for Sunday night. We would also be making stops in Vancouver, Princeton, Penticton, Kelowna, and Kamloops, and would need ground transportation at each of those airports.
I don’t normally do it, but after our weekly meeting and the meeting after the meeting, I headed for the JC airport and home. I hadn’t been home since we left for the French Rivera. A lot has happened since then and I was really looking forward to a little relaxation time. Roughly 2 & ½ hours later I was circled the house twice and then lined up on our runway. I wasn't sure, because I was concentrating on my banking and air speed, but I think there were several people on the front porch as I sped past.
I was making my way back down the runway, to the tie-down apron, when I noticed several people coming from the house. As I got closer, I recognized all of them, Mom, Judy, Susan, and Ricardo. I was a little surprised to see Judy home so early on a Friday evening. After I'd shut down both engines Susan opened the door and invited everyone to look around.
"Hello everyone, what do you think of my new toy?" I asked over my shoulder, as I was finishing the shutdown checklist.
"This is very nice," Mom said, while sliding into one of the seats, in the main cabin.
"A little cramped compared to grandma's G1," Judy said, sliding in across the aisle from Mom. "But the seats are comfortable," she added.
"I told you it was nice," Susan stated. "Although, this is different than the one we were using a week ago."
"I'm sure the rental was pretty new. This one is 5 years old," I explained as I exited the cockpit. "Still nice and she handles just like her little sister."
"That appeared to be a fairly tight loop you made, circling the house. Have you buzzed a runway like Mr. Davidson did?" Susan asked.
"No, I haven't buzzed any runways and I haven't tried standing her on her tail. I did open her up all the way just to see what she could do," I confessed.
"What's buzzing the runway?" Ricardo asked.
"That's flying the length of the runway, with the wheels up, 20 feet above the runaway, at 200 knots," I explained.
"That sounds like fun," Ricardo exclaimed. "What's standing on her tail?"
"When you get to the end of the runway, you pull back on the yoke, push the throttles to the limit, and shoot almost straight up," I explained.
"WOW, when can we do that?" Ricardo eagerly asked.
I smiled, patted his head, and replied, "When you get your license you can do all the stunts you want."
"Ah shucks, Mom's never going to let me fly," he bemoaned.
I chuckled to myself as I pulled my suitcase and garment bag out of the baggage compartment and we all headed for the house.
I'd gotten home early enough in the day that I dropped my bags, changed clothes, grabbed a couple of apples, and went to see Emily. She perked up and trotted over to see me as I approached the corral. She greedily devoured the first apple, but took her time with the second. I had just enough time for a short ride and quickly saddled Emily and we headed for the far end of the runway, at a gentle pace. 45 minutes later found Emily back in her stall and I was brushing her down. I had just finished with Emily when I heard what sounded like Auntie’s Cessna 206 setting down. I saw Auntie entering the house as I was leaving the barn.
As I was entering the house I heard Auntie asking, “So, who’s visiting?”
“Visiting?” Susan asked. “No visitors, just family.”
“Well then, where did that King Air come from?” Auntie wanted to know.
“The King Air is mine, Auntie,” I said, as I walked up behind her.
Startled, Auntie spun around. Instantly recognized and threw her arms around me, “Darla, it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed having you around here. How long can you stay, what’s with this plane?”
Before I had a chance to answer Rosa announced that dinner was ready.
As was customary at the ranch, dinner sounded like a board meeting. Auntie told us about her oil company, and the status of each drill site. Susan brought me up to speed on her inspections. The reason Susan was home for the weekend was that grandma needed a break from running Ameri-Moore and Susan hopped a ride on the jet. What surprised me was the reason Judy was home so early on a Friday. Actually, she’d been at the ranch for the last 2 days. She didn’t say much at dinner and it wasn’t until we were getting ready for bed that I had a chance to talk with her privately, by inviting myself into her room.
"So, what's going on, Judy?"
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t give me that, and don’t look at me with those puppy dog eyes. They don’t work on me, only on mother and auntie. I know you’re working at the Textile Division Headquarters, like you did last summer. So why did you come home Wednesday night?”
It was some time before Judy looked up and answered me, “I just couldn’t take the isolation and threats anymore,” she reluctantly replied.
“Threats! What threats?” I demanded.
“They started after we got back from the Riviera,” she sadly said, as she retrieved an attaché case from her closet. “They were subtle notes at first, but as the weeks went by they got to be more and more threatening.” Judy handed me a folder she’d pulled out of the attaché case.
I started reading through the different notes, some were hand written, some typed, the one in the back of the folder were created by pasting words and letters onto the page. The latest were the most threatening.
As I was looking through the notes, Judy continued. “Remember last year I told you that everyone suspected that you were secretly orchestrating the layoffs from behind the scenes. The latest rumor is that I’m your spy, so nobody will talk with me. Well, except for 1 exceptionally kind lady. She sort of took me under her wing last summer and helped me in so many ways. She’s the one that gave me this.” Judy was holding what appeared to be an inter-office memo.
“You may not know, but after we got back Grandma took me into Mr. Edwards office and asked that I work under each of the department heads for 3 months, to get a better feel for the division as a hole. Mr. Edwards seemed a little reluctant but agreed to do as Grandma requested. I’ve been working for Mr. Kelleher, the Farm Production Supervisor. I've been collecting, organizing, and condensing the various reports he receives ever week. The reports are supposed to come in every Monday. It takes me 3 days to consolidate all the information so Mr. Kelleher will have the results for his Friday morning staff meeting.
"Everything started out well, Mr. Kelleher was happy with the work I was doing and I was learning a lot about farms and the problems they’ve been having. Then some of the reports started coming in on Tuesday instead of Monday. Then some weren’t coming in until Wednesday. I was staying late 4 and 5 hours every Wednesday and Thursday, just to get the reports finished. The last month I've been working long hours, running myself raged just to get Mr. Kelleher the reports he needs. Last week some of the reports didn't come in until Thursday. I didn't know what to do. I went to my friend and asked her what I should do. That's when she handed me this memo."
Judy sadly handed me the page she'd been holding out of reach, say, "I can't tell you were this came from, I promised her I wouldn't reveal her identity."
It did appear to be an inter-office memo with the expected header information, date, recipients, and so on. The body of the memo was short and to the point.
Attention
Until further notice:
All correspondence or information going to any of the intern's working in the Division Office Complex must go through my office.
John Edwards
Exec VP
After reading the memo and thinking about it for a few moments I asked, "Have you heard anything suspicious about any of the interns?"
"I haven’t heard of any problem with them, there are about a dozen interns working in the office building," Judy replied. "They also refer to me as an intern because I'm not actually on the divisions’ payroll."
"I see. Have you talked with Grandma since you came home?"
"No I haven't, not yet. I didn't know exactly what to say."
"Judy, you disappeared from work for two days without talking to anyone. That's considered a ‘No Call, No Show’. If you were working for Piermont that would be grounds for immediate termination, that is if you weren't unconscious and in a hospital. However, this could also be considered extenuating circumstances," I said, holding up the memo as I headed for the door. "Along with the other notes you’ve been getting. Come with me, we need to call Grandma."
The closest phone was in the upstairs kitchen, being used so seldom these days I thought we'd have it to ourselves. As I suspected, the kitchen was empty. Picking up the phone I dialed Grandma's ranch house, or was it her mansion.
"Hello Darla Anne, it’s so good to here from you. Where are you today, still in Jefferson City?" Grandma asked, after her house keeper told her who was calling.
“Hello Grandma. No, I needed to clear my head and get some fresh air; I’m at the ranch with everyone else, including Judy.”
“Judy’s there, with you? Thank goodness. Mr. Edwards left a message with my secretary in Portland on Thursday afternoon, saying that she didn’t show up for work Thursday morning. The message went on to say that they sent someone to Judy’s apartment to check on her but there was nobody there. I was out of the office on Thursday and didn’t get the message until I was leaving Friday afternoon, with Susan. Is everything alright, she isn’t hurt or anything?”
“No, no, she’s fine, but it's urgent that we talk with you. May we come see you tomorrow afternoon?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the family, so why don’t I come over there. The three of us can discuss Judy’s problem and then I’ll stay for dinner. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a great plan Grandma. We'll see you tomorrow,” I replied. A few minutes later we said our goodbyes’ and Judy and I went downstairs to join the rest of the family.
Comments are gratefully appreciated, either left below or sent to me at
[email protected]