“Why didn’t she summon me last night?”
“Pin, is that important now? Are you following this? Don’t you get it?”
“What’s to get? I’m going to be thrown out,” I grunted.
“Is that the only thing you’re worried about?” Katie caught my eye. She had raised her voice and was pursing her lips. “Pin, dangit, I’ve already called my father. He’s totally upset but can’t do anything until he knows what’s what, what she accuses you of.”
“Katie…” I threw my head back. “We can’t prove anything except that we’re in love. But you know, like in that book The Children’s Hour, all the relationships wound up ruined after the whole ordeal.” I stared off into space.
Katie threw back my covers and pulled me from the bed. “Pina, you’ve got to get dressed. You’ve got to find out what she’s going to say.”
“And Alda and Dorotea?” I said.
“She-it, Pina! Why the heck are you worried about them now? I haven’t seen either of them.”
“Alda’s up to something. I think. But it was like I was drugged. She was cruel to me. Like she was laughing at me, I think.” I was struggling to remember.
“Get dressed now! We’ll talk about Alda later,” Katie ordered. “I’ll walk with you up to the entrance to Damper. I’ll wait for you, I promise. Just remember everything Craney says. And don’t argue.”
“What? And take her garbage in silence?”
“You’ve just got to get her to spell it out, to do something we can nab her on.”
My mind wandered. Just how much would I have to let Craney do to me?
I got dressed in my most serious clothes, all navy and white. It was hard to concentrate. Everything distracted me from the task at hand: to walk the gangplank to my perdition. I even looked for the peephole and thought for a second this was all a dream I had imagined.
“Katie, it’s gone,” I said, pointing to the approximate spot where I believed the peephole had been.
“What?”
“The hole, the peephole. Holy smokes!”
“Oh my God,” Katie shrieked. “It couldn’t have just disappeared.”
I jumped on a chair and ran my finger over the flat surface of the wall. When could it have been repaired? I tried to punch a hole with my finger. Nothing, just a faint whiff of cold, fresh off-white paint.
“How soon could your father get here?” I snapped, jumping down from the chair. “Now I’m really awake. What if I didn’t go to Craney’s?”
“You’ve got to go,” Katie said. “We’ll call him right after you talk to her.”
We walked the three blocks to Damper as if they were thirty. The wind blew against us; my feet felt leaden and frozen. I would never get to Craney’s office it seemed, and that was fine with me.
What would she say? I could stand the words. I expected them. What would she do? Hit me? Call my parents? Oh my God. I forgot about that part of it.
Katie tried to get me to talk. She reminisced about Maine earlier this summer and swore her father would fix everything.
“You sound like Alda,” I said.
“Huh? Thanks.”
“I think Alda was hinting her father would make Craney and Dorotea disappear.”
“C’mon, Pina. You were so out of it last night.”
“That’s just it. I can’t be sure of anything.”
“Just listen up now. Nod, apologize, whatever you have to do to get the heck out of Craney’s office as quickly as you can. We’ll get my father involved.”
“And my folks?” I was imagining my mother’s face, her gray-blue eyes swimming, her cheeks flushed. She would hold her heart and hyperventilate. My father would be ultra-polite and apologetic to Craney, but pulled back with a stiff face.
“We’re almost here. Your folks love you. And my father will talk to them. They like him. But listen. I love you. I’m right here. I’m going to stay right here and wait for you.”
Katie had stopped and pulled me behind the huge yellow pine. She placed her hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes, and said, “I want you to carry my love with you.” She reached into her pocket and put something into mine. “You can hold onto it.”
I reached deep into my pocket as she pushed me out from under the tree in the direction of Damper’s entrance. I turned the object over and over, a small velveteen heart. I would carry Katie’s heart with me.
Chapter Thirty-nine
The Office of the Head Mistress Mary Margaret Craney
I was there. At the door, I read the inscription on the brass sign, Office of Head Mistress Mary Margaret Craney, as if it were an oracle. I wouldn’t have any answers until I knew the questions. And I certainly couldn’t ask my questions, like why me? Or what did she want with me? And most crucial, did she really mean to seduce me?
I knocked. My stomach knotted, my throat closed. I wondered if I should have gone one last time to the bathroom. No answer.
I knocked again, hoping this would all go away. I heard voices, but there was only one sharp voice, Craney’s, instructing me to enter. Craney was alone in the room.
She sat behind her massive desk, just like the last time I was there. I walked ever so slowly the length of the interminable Persian runner just like the last time. I stopped three feet from her desk and shuddered just like the last time.
“Approach, Miss Mazzini,” she said.
I advanced one more foot.
“Where is Dorotea?” she boomed.
I started to shake. “I don’t know, uh, Miss Craney.”
What the heck? Aw, man! Katie said she hadn’t seen her. Alda…the invitation to Dorotea’s aunt’s. No. Alda, what the hell did she do? Could her father…? Oh man, I’ve got to concentrate on Craney. Just drain myself of all my thoughts.
She was standing now and sliding open her middle drawer. She extracted an envelope, which she waved at me. “Where?”
I dug my nails into my skin to give me courage. “I really don’t know, Head Mistress.”
“Do you know what this is?” She poked her head forward, thrusting the envelope a foot away from my face.
“No, Head Mistress.” I tried to squint to see if there was anything written on it—a name, an address, something. I tilted my head as if to think. I couldn’t even get a glimpse from that angle.
“It’s an envelope, yes? Containing a message, yes?” She prompted.
“Yes, Miss Craney.”
“Do you have any ideas about the message?” Her lips had become chisel-like. I thought of monster voles.
“No, Miss Craney.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Miss Mazzini.”
By now, Craney had picked up an ivory letter-opener with the head of a shrew carved into it. Pewter accented the carved ivory head. The pewter eyes reflected the yellowish light in the room.
I fingered the heart in my pocket. The nappe of the velvet calmed me as I anticipated the slice of the letter opener. Craney continued to emphasize her words with the point and alternately the head of the letter opener.
“Miss Cabanus’ aunt just called to inform me that Dorotea seems to have gone missing. I have reason to believe you might be involved. You were, shall we say, not friends.”
“No. I mean yes. We had become friends. We were going to room together, as you know. She just invited me to tea four days ago.”
“You did not say you were not involved.” Craney jabbed the point into her blotter.
“I uh, don’t know anything about her uh, disappearance. I thought she was going to her aunt’s,” I stammered, not knowing whether to admit that.
“Well, that may be so or it may not. This letter.” Miss Craney made an abrupt pause to get water. She looked at me over the rim of her half-glasses as she slowly extended her hand to grasp the Waterford tumbler.
She continued while tapping the letter. “This letter. I found this letter, which Dorotea had dated and deposited in my box apparently the day she left. It’s marked ‘Ask Pina, in case of emergency.’ We know
what’s inside, don’t we, Miss Mazzini?”
I was wet under my arms, and my underpants stuck to me. I attempted to shift my weight; I was still standing. Craney had reseated herself and pulled her chair in close to the desk.
“Honestly, Miss Craney, I don’t.”
“I might have just an inkling,” she said, flipping the envelope over and over.
I tried to see the words “ask Pina,” but I couldn’t make out anything. Was Craney bluffing?
“Aren’t you curious? The slightest bit?” she asked.
Had she really read the letter and what did it say? She was trying to trick me into giving her info that wasn’t even in the letter: that I was a, uh, lesbian. God. I had to freeze my face and my thoughts.
I forced myself to say, “With all due respect, Miss Craney, I’m concerned. I had grown quite fond of Dorotea and had looked forward to rooming with her to improve my French and German. How can I help?”
The heart was almost throbbing in my pocket. I peeked at my hand, which I slid out flat by my side. My fingertips were blood red from the dyed velveteen.
“Clever girl. I knew I could count on you. Let me see how. Hmm.”
Miss Craney had sat back in her chair and removed her glasses. Stroking her chin, she smiled. She opened her eyes wide and grinned at me.
“Yes,” she said. “You will help.”
As her smile broadened, her tone became liquid gold and honey. All authoritarian notes disappeared. She stood, came around the desk, and slithered behind me. She placed her hand on my neck and said, “Yes. You will help.”
A shiver ran down my back. I didn’t dare slump since I could feel the heat radiating from Craney’s body, her breath on my neck. Her posture mirrored mine, her chest a mere inch or two away from my back. I tried to think. My body convulsed, trembling.
“There, there,” she said, grasping my shoulder. “I know it’s a thrilling thought to help find a misplaced person. And we would be working ever so closely.” She slid her fingers down my cheek.
Leading me by the waist with her bony hand, she scrunched me down in a chair next to hers. She sat down again, tapped the envelope two times against her desk, and said, “We’ll put this envelope away for now as long as we’re putting our heads together, no?”
I had no other choice for the moment. “Yes. I uh…will do what I can.” I desperately needed to go to the bathroom.
“You’ll do more than that. I will show you the way. You’re such a clever follower. Are we clear, Pina dear?”
“I really need to use the restroom.” I needed to pee, but I also had to think. How was I going to get Craney to spell out what she wanted? Could I play dumb a little longer?
“Are we clear, Pina?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, exactly. Can we finish this after…?” I realized I didn’t know where the bathroom was.
I looked quickly all along the draped walls but couldn’t locate any door. Before I knew it, Craney had grasped my wrist and was escorting me. She pulled me behind velveteen drapes. I felt them slither along my face and sides. There was a paneled door. Craney flung it open and commanded, “Go!”
I have never peed within earshot of someone about to punish—no, not punish me, torture me. I had to pee so badly I couldn’t hold it in any longer. After a torrential downpour, I felt Craney could see every inch of me, inside and out. It seemed as if she had taken possession of me.
I delayed as long as I could. My body felt so taut, a solid block of wood. I wished I could disconnect my nerves from whatever sensate experience awaited me on the other side of the door.
As I crept out, Craney took hold of my arm to usher me into an adjoining room. I was midway between fainting and going someplace far, far away in my head. My powers of observation were shutting down so that the only thing I registered was a monstrous ebony canopy bed with a polar bear skin dead center.
I believe I fainted. I came to my senses, seated in an uncomfortable wingback chair. I smelled vomit, my vomit, and saw Craney flicking particles off her bony hand. She towered over me, speaking.
“No need to service me when you’re not well.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled. “I have a history of fainting. Anemia, they say.”
“Don’t thank me for this reprieve.”
Oh lord, I thought. That’s that word again.
Craney continued, “We have a working contract. You do understand?”
I needed to get out of there immediately. I also needed her to spell out her threat.
“I don’t really understand.” I winced.
By now, Craney was bending over, her eyes almost level with mine.
“You have until Mothers’ Weekend to decide just how much service you could be to me. Think about it. I would hate to have the authorities blame you for Dorotea’s disappearance. Why, I would have to divulge the contents of this letter, my dear—rambling and damning accusations. Though, maybe just the sloppy sentimentality of the jealous, young thing Dorotea was.”
Craney paused and stood up. She patted my head and moved behind my chair. I didn’t dare breathe. I believed Craney had just commuted my sentence.
“Ahem,” Craney began to whisper in my ear. “I would have to have a long chat with your mother, uh, Giuseppina Mazzini.” She spoke my mother’s name as if the vowels scorched her tongue.
“Yes. Your mother would become privy to all I have learned about you. I am sure she would be most interested and determined to get you the best help available. On the other hand, how proud she would be to know you were to be my right-hand girl. Don’t you think, dear Pina?”
I managed to say, “Yes.”
“As I was saying.” Craney was beginning to tie up her speech. “You have a week. I have had my eye on you. It’s not often one disappoints me. You’ll learn to appreciate, I’m sure. Now run along, and do be careful with yourself.”
Craney exited, disappearing in some recess without looking at me again. I fumbled my way through the drapes and back through her office. The rug seemed to run on forever, but finally I pulled open the door and fell out onto the threshold.
The air was sweet. I stayed crouched on the floor several minutes before I ran the fifty feet to the exit doors. The yellow pine hiding Katie opened its branches, clasping me in its safe embrace. I toppled into Katie’s arms and wept.
Chapter Forty
The Debriefing
Katie’s arms seemed like the only safe place left in the world. They transported me back to my security blankets from the past.
All was good now; warm and soft, Katie’s scent of lilies and lavender slowly enveloped me in multi-layered folds of tranquility. Katie let me cry for what seemed like forever, cooing occasionally that she was right there and would take care of me.
As I started to slow my weeping, Katie turned my head with great care and tenderness.
“Pin, look at me. We can’t stay here.”
She peeked out through the branches, adding, “Too many Albert people. We’ve got to get to town.”
“I don’t care. I can’t move,” I said.
“Yes, you can. You have to.” Katie grabbed me by the waist, saying, “The coast is clear. Come.”
We made it to the fence where I paused.
“C’mon,” Katie said. “Eunice’s is the only place they won’t report us for cutting and won’t eavesdrop on our conversation.”
I grunted, “Okay” as we wove our way through the fence and onto town lanes.
I managed to squeeze myself into the farthest corner of the last booth in the back room of the restaurant. Katie held my hand hidden by the display of salt, pepper, ketchup, and menus. We could always pretend to be picking out songs and pushing the greasy buttons on the miniature jukebox behind the menus.
“Slowly,” Katie urged.
“I don’t know where to begin. I still feel like I’m in shock. My body’s one mass of crawling bugs.” I shuddered as I sank back into the tufted, faded plastic cushion.
“Did she
…I mean…did she touch you?”
“Yeah. But no. It was creepy, and she touched my neck, but…God, I wanted to vomit, and I actually did—even a few drops on her ugly hand. Probably the only thing that stopped her from doing more.”
“Pin!” Katie lowered her voice. “Did she touch you in that way?”
“No, but I know she wants to. She hovered behind me, almost pressing on my back. I felt her breath on my neck.”
“Oh God.”
By the look on her face, Katie was probably figuring out what we could tell her dad.
“Katie!” I squeezed her hand. “Just listen. I need you just to listen now. It almost felt worse than if she had molested me. Her words were like snakes slithering over me in every direction. Her looks undressed me. She even made me pee less than a foot away from her.”
“What? Jesus! I’m sorry. I want to touch you, but you’ve been saying it’s like your skin is crawling.”
“Yeah, it is. But your voice and your eyes…” I wanted to reach across the table to Katie with my other hand, but…I sighed. “She didn’t molest me. Yet. She gave me until Mothers’ Weekend to think it over.”
“Did she really say that?”
I shook my head. “Katie, she was really slippery. She didn’t spell anything out except to say I would have to cater to her and service her.”
“Puuke! And if you don’t?”
“She’s going to tell my mother.”
“Huh?” said Katie. “Tell her what exactly? I’m really confused.”
“Aw shoot, Katie. About me, about us, and stupid Dorotea has disappeared!”
“You’re not making sense. I thought Alda sent her a phony invitation to her aunt’s.”
“That’s just it. Phony. But you’re missing the point, Katie,” I said, trying to sort out the important points about how scared I was about us.
Katie interrupted. “Did she go to her aunt’s?” She scrunched up her face as The Great Pretender came on the jukebox.
I lowered the volume and whispered, “Alda.” I had allowed myself to get caught up in that part of the story.
“I don’t get it.” Katie was frowning, especially at the line in the song “You seem to be what you’re not.” She snapped off the sound and wiped her fingers on her sleeve.
Love and Lechery at Albert Academy Page 13
