“And I am in this play with you,” said Penelope.
“Oh, right right,” said Bitty. “You do look familiar!”
“Oh, great,” said Penelope.
Bitty laughed. “Well, I was just going to pop in for a second. Say hello to Henry.”
“Awesome,” said Penelope. “We were just in marionette practice.”
“Marionette practice?” asked Gustav. He raised his eyebrow at Penelope.
“They put a marionette show in the middle of Act Three,” said Penelope.
“Oh my God. Are you a marionette operator?” he asked Penelope.
“Of course,” said Penelope.
“It’s my favorite part of the play,” said Bitty.
“I wonder what it is like,” said Penelope.
Just then, Emma came running down stairs. Penelope was very glad to see her. Emma looked very agitated, however. She was wearing rain boots and a cable-knit sweater in the same shade of violent pink.
“Bitty, Henry Wills-Mather has been looking for you everywhere!”
“Oh, really?” said Bitty.
“He is like freaking out. Hi, Gustav!”
“Hello there, Emma,” said Gustav, bowing slightly.
“Oh,” said Bitty. “Well, I can only be here for a second. I am going to that PC thing tonight. I was just going to say hello. I told Gustav this was going to be brief.”
“You actually didn’t tell me about it at all,” said Gustav. “I thought we were going to the party in an intensely roundabout way.”
“Are you going to the PC thing?” asked Bitty.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it,” said Emma. Penelope knew Emma wasn’t invited to the PC thing. She had complained about it extensively to Penelope while crying. Penelope had had to look up almost everything she said on Wikipedia, which was exhausting.
“Well, I don’t know if I am on the list,” said Emma. “Gustav, are you coming to see the play?”
“Oh,” said Gustav. He smiled at Penelope in a knowing way. “I mean, I suppose I have to. When is it again?”
“Friday, Saturday, and Sunday the second weekend in April,” said Emma.
“My Lord!” said Gustav. “So many nights to choose from. Saturday, I have to go to the arboretum during the day, but other than—”
“Oh!” said Bitty. She clapped her hands excitedly. “I have always wanted to go to the arboretum!”
“Me too!” said Emma.
“What is an arboretum?” asked Penelope.
“An arboretum, darling, is a collection of trees,” said Gustav. “I have no great truck in the thing myself, but Harvard has one, and my family supports it rather extensively. Once a year or so, I go out there and check how everything is doing. You would hate it because of your stance on nature.”
“An arboretum is such a good cause,” said Bitty solemnly. “It is so important for forestry.”
“Well, it’s privately endowed,” said Gustav. “But we do help everything stay tip-top. You should see the state of other arboretums. None of them has wheelbarrows decorated with a crest. Or a twenty-four-hour hotline for plant identification.”
Emma laughed. “Gustav! There is no way we have wheelbarrows like that!”
“Oh, darling,” said Gustav, “how very little you know.”
“Wait,” said Bitty, grabbing hold of Gustav’s arm. “When are you going again?”
“Saturday,” said Gustav. “During the day.”
“I’m free during the day,” said Bitty excitedly. “We only have to be here at night. I should go with you. Or me and Emma should.”
“Yeah!” said Emma. It might have been the happiest Penelope had ever seen her.
“It will be so fun,” said Bitty.
“Well,” said Gustav doubtfully, “I do want company.”
“Oh, good!” said Bitty. “We have to get back in time for our call. It’s at six.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Gustav. “Arboretums are terrible at night. You half expect Ichabod Crane to leap out and ask you to dinner.”
“That is my worst nightmare,” said Penelope.
Gustav looked at Penelope like he had just noticed her again. It was curious, Penelope thought, how he seemed to visibly forget people. Not in a mean way, of course. Every time he realized they were there again he seemed to like them, which was more than you could say for most people.
“Oh, Penelope! You must come too! All three of you should come,” Gustav said in a jovial voice. Penelope felt a burst of relief course through her body. She had had no idea she was even tense. Nor did she really want to go to an arboretum, necessarily.
“Yay! That sounds fantastic! I just love being outside in the spring. I wish my dog was here,” said Bitty. “I’m just going to run and say hello to Henry for a second. Don’t leave!” she said to Gustav, punching him in the shoulder. Then she sauntered into the theater.
Gustav, Penelope, and Emma were left in the lobby. Gustav smiled at the girls but said nothing. He put his gloves back on finger by finger. Penelope and Emma watched him do this in silence. After he had his gloves entirely on, he said in a chipper voice:
“Well, I think I will get going.”
“Gustav, you can’t!” said Emma. “You can’t leave Bitty!” She started laughing, but she also seemed legitimately nervous.
“You’re just going to leave her?” asked Penelope.
“I’m just rather worried she is going to take hours,” said Gustav, looking at his watch. “And I really do have to get to this party. I have to recite a limerick at dinner. Emma, you’ll take her to the party, won’t you? I will let them know at the door, in case they forgot to put you on the list.”
“Oh, sure,” said Emma, flushing with pleasure. “I mean, ha ha.”
“Good to see you, Penelope, darling,” said Gustav. He patted her arm. “I may call you after the party. You look quite adorable in that marionette costume. Please wear that little hat later. I have a great idea for what to do with it.” And with that, Gustav walked quickly out of the theater.
Penelope did not know what to think about the foregoing scene. Obviously, it was disturbing and exhilarating in equal measure. One thing she was glad of was that she looked good in her marionette costume. For a long time she had been unsure about it.
Unfortunately, before she was able to ponder this fully, she was greeted with another trial. Emma was staring at her malignantly.
“Penelope, what was that?” she said.
“What was what?” said Penelope.
“That. When he said he would call you. Why would he ever call you?”
“I don’t know,” said Penelope.
“I didn’t even know you hung out with him.”
“I don’t really that much,” said Penelope.
“You hang out with him? How do you even know him?”
“Well, I met him at that party,” said Penelope. “And then we took a class together and stuff.”
“That’s weird,” said Emma.
“Yeah,” said Penelope.
“Are you hooking up with him or something?” Emma asked.
“Um, well, I guess so,” said Penelope. All the muscles stiffened in Emma’s face. A vein near her chin became especially prominent. It was amazing, thought Penelope, how much her physical reactions mirrored her actual emotions. She would make a terrible politician.
“What? I didn’t know that!” said Emma. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Oh well,” said Penelope, searching desperately for something to say, “I don’t know. I just didn’t.”
“How long has this been going on?” asked Emma.
“Not that long,” said Penelope.
Penelope and Emma were still standing in the middle of the lobby. Due to Penelope’s ill-advised bout of Boy Scout morality, Emma went over to the stairwell and sat down on the stairs. Penelope followed her and stood near her but not with her, like a blimp hovering over a public event. Emma looked up a
t Penelope with sad eyes.
“It just feels like you have been lying to me. Like one of my best friends here has been lying to me.”
“I … I wasn’t lying to you,” Penelope stammered.
“You lied by omission,” said Emma.
“I just didn’t think it was that important.”
“Penelope, I consider you one of my best friends. How could you not have told me this? I feel so hurt. I tell you everything!”
“I know,” said Penelope.
“I also think it is really mean to Bitty,” said Emma. “Like really incredibly mean to Bitty.”
“What? Mean to Bitty?” said Penelope. She felt her stomach drop. “How is she involved in this?”
“Oh my God, Penelope. She dated Gustav before. And I don’t even know what is going on with them now. I just think this is like ridiculously insensitive.”
“I’m sorry,” said Penelope. “I mean, nothing is really going on. It is very casual.”
“Ugh,” said Emma. “I can’t even talk about this. I sort of feel bad for you because Gustav is an awful person and ridiculously mean to girls. He leads everyone on. He is a terrible boyfriend. And he probably only likes you because you act like you like him. You are a ridiculous flirt.”
“I am?” said Penelope.
“But I can’t believe you lied to my face, so actually, I don’t even feel bad! I am going back to practice.” Emma, true to her word, got up, turned on her heel, and went running back into the theater. Penelope left then, because they didn’t need the marionette operators anymore.
The next day, Penelope was sitting in the dining hall, having breakfast and mulling over yesterday’s events. Emma had refused to speak to her all evening. Gustav had texted her at four a.m. and told her he was too tired from limericks to see her. And now she was eating breakfast alone. It had all been very depressing.
Just then, Penelope saw Catherine come into the dining hall through the back door, near the marble statues. She looked agitated. Her eyes were red rimmed and she was wearing some kind of bathrobe. After scanning the room briefly, Catherine saw Penelope and started sprinting toward her table, her bathrobe barely doing its office.
“Oh, Penelope,” said Catherine. “Thank God you’re here.” Catherine sat down next to Penelope. A bulbous tear fell tragically down her cheek. Pretty soon she was crying.
“What?” said Penelope. “What is the matter?”
“Oh my God!” sobbed Catherine. “Oh my God!”
“What?” said Penelope.
“I was trying to find you everywhere. Lan said you were at the dining hall. I just came here. Thank God you’re here.”
“What is the matter?” said Penelope.
“Oh God,” said Catherine. She rubbed her face with her hands and took a deep breath. “It’s about blocking.”
“Oh,” said Penelope. She had been so preoccupied by her fight with Emma and her brush with Gustav that she had forgotten, momentarily, about blocking groups. She had to declare herself officially as a floater soon.
“So anyway, I was going to live with these other girls. Emmeline and them? You know those girls. There were like four of us who were going to block together. We were totally set on it. We talked about it and everything.”
“Right,” said Penelope. She had not known this but it was not very surprising.
“I mean, I have been really busy and stressed out by the play and everything so I haven’t been checking in about it every second. I thought it was just understood. I didn’t think it was going to be this big deal. So then, last night after the cast party, I went back to Emmeline’s room to get something and all of them were huddled around a piece of paper and kind of whispering. So I was like, ‘What’s up, guys?’ And they were like, ‘We have to talk to you. We don’t think we can fit you into our blocking group.’ And I was like, ‘What?’ and they were like, ‘We’re sorry.’ And I was like, ‘Well, when were you going to tell me any of this?’ and they were like, ‘Tonight. Because we are going to turn our sheet in early.’ ” Catherine threw her head onto the table and started sobbing again.
“Do you know why they did that?” asked Penelope.
“No,” said Catherine. “I think they want to allow boys into the group or something. I literally don’t even know why. They were like my really good friends.”
“That is horrible,” said Penelope.
“I know,” said Catherine. She wiped her eyes again. “It’s so bad.”
“That really is bad,” said Penelope.
“I just can’t believe it,” said Catherine. “I don’t know why people would suddenly just turn on you like that.”
“I know,” said Penelope. This was making her even more depressed. “Human beings are a mystery. I don’t understand how to make friends. Or what makes anyone like anyone.”
“I usually have no problem making friends at all,” said Catherine. “This is all new, what is happening to me. In school, I was super-popular. But girls have always hated me. I have always been more of a guys girl.”
“Yeah,” said Penelope.
“Girls have always been jealous of me for some reason. I don’t know why.”
“Oh,” said Penelope.
“That is what is so hard,” said Catherine.
“Well,” said Penelope, “what are you going to do now? Can you block with Ted?”
“I mean, I had talked about blocking with Ted originally, because I love all those guys to death, and they are my real friends, not those girls. But it was going to throw off all the game theory or something.”
Penelope nodded.
“Anyway,” said Catherine. She used a napkin that had been left on the table to wipe her eyes.
“Well, what are you doing for housing?” asked Catherine.
“Nothing,” said Penelope. “I couldn’t find anyone to live with.”
“Yeah, I thought so,” said Catherine.
“It’s OK,” said Penelope. “I don’t really mind.”
“Well, do you want to live together?” asked Catherine. “I mean, now that this has happened, we can.”
“What?” said Penelope.
“Yeah,” said Catherine. “I don’t have anyone else to live with.”
“OK, sure!” said Penelope.
“OK, good,” said Catherine. “Because I really don’t want to be a floater too. And you are friends with Ted and I’m dating Ted, obviously, so we have that in common. We have a lot of the same friends.”
“That is true,” said Penelope.
“Well,” said Catherine. She smiled at Penelope in a morose sort of way. “That is settled. That’s really why I was trying to find you. I think we might get a good room. Just two people. We could probably get a nice double.”
“OK,” said Penelope.
“Awesome,” said Catherine. Suddenly, her eyes seemed to become arrested on something in the distance. “Wait, I just saw Ted come in. Did you see him?”
“Oh,” said Penelope, turning around to see where she was looking, “no, I didn’t.”
“I am just going to go say hi to him,” said Catherine. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast.”
“Oh, OK,” said Penelope. “You don’t have to. I’m almost done.”
“No,” said Catherine. “It’s OK. Stay here.”
“Well, OK,” said Penelope. “Bye, then.”
“Bye,” said Catherine. She went running off in the direction of where she saw Ted come in. Penelope still didn’t see him.
Well, at least one thing is settled, thought Penelope.
11.
In Which There Is Hardship
Springtime in Massachusetts is depressing for those who embrace a progressive view of history and experience. It does not gradually develop as spring is supposed to. Instead, the crocuses bloom and the grass grows, but the foliage is independent from the weather, which gets colder and colder and sadder and sadder until June, when one day it becomes brutishly hot without warning. There is no traditional logic attac
hed. Certain days in May can be more cutting than any in December. It was fitting, then, that the first people who chose to settle there were mentally suspect.
So, although it was technically spring, it seemed colder than ever when Penelope hurried past Widener Library. It was raining a little, but the rain was turning into ice just before it hit the ground. The sky was slate gray. The bark on the trees was sopping wet. It was hard to imagine the climate ever warming up sufficiently again.
“Penelope! Wait up!” yelled Ted. Penelope stopped and turned around. Ted was running up to meet her. She blew into her hands to keep them warm as she waited for him.
“Hi,” said Ted when he finally caught up with her. His face was blotched red from the exertion of running. His bangs were curled up in little balls because of the humidity. All and all, he looked more becoming than his usual self.
“Hello!” said Penelope.
“I was in Widener, and I saw you out the window,” said Ted. He bent over, put his hands on his knees, and exhaled deeply. “I was worried I wasn’t going to catch you.”
“Good thing you did,” said Penelope. “I was just walking to the Quad Library by myself.”
“Why do you have to go all the way out there?” asked Ted. The Quad Library was a Swedish-looking building on the old girls’ campus. No one went out there unless they had to.
“I have to get a copy of Look Homeward, Angel and Lamont was all out. I have to read a hundred pages of it.”
“Why not the whole thing?” asked Ted.
“I don’t know,” said Penelope.
“Well, I’ll walk with you a little,” said Ted. “I have to drop something off at the registrar’s.”
“OK,” said Penelope. They started walking out of Harvard Yard and toward the theater on Brattle Street. Penelope put the hood of her coat up, because the rain had turned to sleet somewhere along the way and was now spitting in her face. It didn’t really help.
“So how are you?” asked Ted. “How is everything going?”
“Oh, you know,” said Penelope.
“How are classes?”
“Good.”
Penelope Page 23
