February 28, 2014

Episode Four: Poetry and Tact





Amidst the insanity of us all scrambling to pick up our mingled luggage, I’d managed to snag the best bedroom in the house. September and Echo ended up with the other bedrooms on the second floor while Angelica, Nicola, and myself had dashed up the stairs to check out the third floor. Like the second, there was a communal living room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms. I managed to get a look at all three before choosing the largest. Happily, it had a bay window that faced east as well as a beautiful brick and mortar fireplace. The fireplace, walls, and the wrought-iron bed frame had been painted white. But a few well-chosen landscape paintings and a vase full of fresh flowers on the bedside table brought just enough color to the room.

I immediately hung my clothing in the narrow closet and lined up my shoes beneath the bed. A crocheted blanket Kara had made me last Yule went over the armchair next to the desk. I was a bit flummoxed by the vanity table for awhile, but I eventually found an empty glass for my mascara and eyeliner and set that and the vase of flowers on it.

I was busy stacking my books on the built-in bookshelf when I heard a soft knock on my door. I was surprised that anyone would be knocking on my door after the fiasco downstairs, but I was even more surprised to discover it was the new girl when I went and opened it.   

“Hi,” she said in a surprisingly sweet voice. “Do you have a phone charger I can borrow? I guess I left mine in my parent’s car and my phone is dead.” She held up an iPhone whose case had been decorated with what seemed to be purple unicorns and pink bats.

I goggled at her. She must have thought I was offended or something because she shuffled her feet and looked away.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” she murmured, and again I was shocked by how sweet she sounded. “I can ask someone else if you’re busy.”

“No, wait!” I said just as she was turning around. “I’m sorry, I just…” I gestured uselessly. I couldn’t exactly explain that I had trouble reconciling her goth appearance with her personality. “Would you like to come in for a second?” I said.



She looked at me for a moment, staring up at me from beneath the thick fringe of what had to be fake eyelashes. I wondered why she wore such startling makeup and clothes. And her piercings - her lower lip, nose, and one eyebrow all sported silver jewelry, not to mention the seven studs I could see in her right ear. And then there was her hair…

Finally she nodded, and I stepped aside so she could come in. She looked around and immediately gravitated toward my half-full bookshelf.

“Oh, I love these books!” she said, reaching out to touch the cover of one of my Garth Nix books. His Old Kingdom series was a beloved favorite of mine, and I couldn’t stop my overenthusiastic reaction at finding a fellow fan.

“Gods, I know,” I said. I pulled out the others so we could stare admiringly at the covers. “Isn’t it like the coolest magic system ever? I love the Bells.”

“Me too!” she said.

We grinned at each other, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Thank the gods there was someone in this house who shared my taste for reading. Even if she was strange looking, I had a feeling Nicola and I might end up being good friends. It would be a nice difference from hanging out with my little sister.

I pointed at her phone. “I hate to tell you this, but it won’t matter if you find a charger for that thing or not. With all of the witches in this place, there’s pretty much no way you’d manage to get the thing working. Too much magical interference.”

“Is that why it died so fast?” She looked at it morosely, and I wondered if there was someone outside of the school she wanted to keep in touch with.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m used to not using technology like that because my neighborhood has a lot of witches. Where are you from?”

She slid the phone into a pocket of her jacket and resumed examining my book collection. “We move a lot,” she said. “My parents never really got over their Summer of Love. We live in an RV most of the time.”

I wanted to ask her more about this, but I wasn’t sure how to do it tactfully. I settled for saying, “That must have been interesting,” and cringed at myself.

She nodded in an absent way. “But we settled down in Kentucky so I could go to high school. There aren’t too many witches in Berea though. I didn’t even know I was a witch until I was sixteen and accidently turned one of my teachers bright blue. Then my mom was like, ‘Oh yeah. I’m a witch and I guess you are too.’” She shook her head. “My mom is like that about a lot of stuff. That’s why I was late today. She forgot that she was supposed to drive me here and was out in the woods behind the hotel picking mushrooms.”

“That sounds…” I stopped myself, but Nicola was nodding again.

“It’s fairly annoying,” she said. “But I’m used to it. At least I was only a couple hours late.”

“True,” I said. I cast about for something else to ask her. She seemed so nice. “What’s Kentucky like? I’ve lived in Connecticut my entire life.”

“The town I lived in was practically a hippie commune.” She turned around and smiled at me. I could actually forget her appearance altogether when she smiled. “You don’t want to hear about that. I’ve never been to New England before. Why don’t you tell me about what it’s like here?”

I floundered for words. “Well, Connecticut and Vermont are both in New England, but they’re not exactly the same,” I said. “I’m used to living in a much busier town with a lot more people than what this place seems to have. And there aren’t any farms near me. We always drive up to Massachusetts to get pumpkins and native corn for Samhain.”

“Samhain?” Her eyes lit up, and I noticed that they looked almost green. “I’ve never celebrated Samhain before.”

“You will here,” I told her. “I’ve been reading up about the history of the college. There’s always a big bonfire with dancing and then everyone gathers in the graveyard to summon up the spirit of Serilda Shepherd. She founded the school,” I added when I saw Nicola’s blank look. “Have you learned anything about witchcraft yet?”

“I’ve read a few books,” she said. “But my mom wasn’t the best teacher. The only thing I really learned from her was how to make healing teas.”

“Well, that’s something,” I said, being generous. But she was so nice that I felt like I could be generous toward her. “And I might be able to help you out with the beginner’s stuff here. My mom raised my sister and me in the craft from the time we were kids, so I know quite a bit already.”

“I’m not a very good student,” she said ruefully. “So I’d appreciate any help I can get. I really suck at studying.”

I grinned. “I’m the queen of studying. I’d love to help you.”

“Knock knock,” a bright voice sang from the other side of my door as it swung open. The petite blonde-haired blue-eyed Echo leaned around the doorframe. “Hi, girls, you ready for dinner?”

Angelica the apparent jock gave Echo a sidelong look as she brushed past her and came into my room. “Looks like you got the biggest place in the joint,” she said without bitterness.  

I felt a bit deflated that what I felt was a pretty good conversation with Nicola had been interrupted, but at least neither of the newcomers looked like they were upset about the argument downstairs anymore.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said just in case Angelica really was bitter. But all she did was shrug and flop down on my bed.

Echo seemed as drawn to my bookshelf as Nicola had been. “Oh, you have all of these!” she said, pulling down my compendium of His Dark Materials. “I haven’t read the last one yet.”

“That’s the best one!” Nicola and I both said at the same time. We looked at each other and laughed, and for a moment I felt a wonderful sense of belonging.

“You guys are nerds,” Angelica announced. I was ready to defend myself, but Echo spoke first.

“Don’t you read, Angie?” she said.

Angie?” Angelica’s face went from anger to confusion to reluctant acceptance as she stared at Echo’s cheerful expression. She turned away, and muttered, “Not really.” I hid a smile from the others at her reaction.

Echo seemed not to notice Angelica’s discomfort. “Well, I love reading,” she said. “What do you guys read? Because I read everything. Fiction, non-fiction, manga, comics, plays, poetry… I just love it all! Isn’t the written word wonderful?”

For some reason Nicola’s face began to color in what I could only interpret as embarrassment. “You read poetry?” she asked quietly.

“Oh yes!” Echo said. “I like William Blake and Anne Sexton and Pablo Neruda and E.E. Cummings…” She tilted her head. “Actually, there isn’t much poetry I don’t like. What about you?”

“Well,” Nicola said. She was studying her boots. “Sometimes I write poetry.”

“You do?” I didn’t think it was possible for Echo to look more excited about something (as she seemed to be excited about everything), but I was wrong. She jumped in front of Nicola and grabbed her hands. “I knew it!” she said. “I knew you were an artist. I could just tell from your aura. You have a super blue aura; it’s really pretty. And, oh, you will let me read some of your stuff, won’t you? I’ve tried to write poetry before and it was absolutely terrible, but I’m sure yours is amazing. I just know it is.”

Bright red spots appeared on Nicola’s pale cheeks. She didn’t quite cower in the face of Echo’s excitement, but she did draw back a little.

“I guess so,” she all but whispered.

“Yay!” Echo said, and she threw her arms around the poor little goth girl. “Thank you, thank you! I’ll be the best reader in the world, I promise. I’ll tell you everything that’s wonderful and skip over anything I don’t like. Unless you want me to tell you that too because I learned how to give good criticism in my art classes, you know. But I’d never ever be mean. I couldn’t be anyway. My mom used to say I was born without a mean bone in my body.”

Angelica and I shared a look. This girl was kind of crazy, we seemed to say silently, but at least it was the kind of crazy that was amusing to other people. Although looking at Nicola, I didn’t think she was particularly amused. Frightened maybe.

“I… I can take criticism,” Nicola said when Echo had released her. She ran her fingers through her blue-and-black hair to straighten it. “And I’m sure you’re never mean.” She hesitated for a moment and then smiled. Echo beamed back.

“Isn’t she the sweetest thing?” she said, turning her grin on Angelica and me.

Angelica glanced at Nicola’s huge black boots and the skulls on her stockings. “She’s sweet all right,” she said. “Hey, Nic, you seem like the tattoo type. Got any cool ones?”

Nicola’s blush sprang to life again. “Actually…” She carefully unbuttoned her jacket. Beneath it she was wearing a lace camisole woven like a corset with purple ribbons, and at least four tattoos. From what I could see, she had a small ankh under her right collarbone, something colorful and large creeping over her left shoulder, and then two lines of stylized script on the insides of her forearms.

“Wow, you’re white,” Angelica said with a laugh. She got off the bed and went to examine Nicola’s admittedly pale arms. Echo was already tracing the tattoo on Nicola’s shoulder and exclaiming her admiration, so I went to join them.

“My friend is the artist,” Nicola said. “He’s amazing.”

“I’ll say.” Angelica turned one of Nicola’s arms over to get a better look. “What does this say? I can’t quite make it out.”

Nicola closed her eyes and recited softly, “ ‘Fixed stars govern a life.’ ”

“Huh,” Angelica said. “Any reason why you chose that quote in particular?”

The other girl opened her eyes and stared at all of us. “Um… It’s by my favorite poet.”

“Ooh, I know who it is,” Echo said, raising her hand in the air as though we were all in class together. Which reminded me…

“Sylvia Plath, right?” I said before anyone else could. “Hey, didn’t Poppy say she was taking us out for dinner soon? Where is she?”

Angelica made a face, and Echo dropped her hand with a disappointed look. Nicola glanced at me before pulling her jacket back on.

“I’m sure she’s waiting for us downstairs,” Angelica said. “Tapping her foot on the floor probably.” Her grin spread slowly across her face at the image, and I quailed. It was the same grin Kara got when some particularly evil idea crossed her mind. She usually called it fun, but I’m pretty sure it always turned out to be evil.

“Let’s go join her then, shall we?” I said before Angelica could suggest something else. And I grabbed my sweater and wallet from the closet.

The other girls followed me down the stairs. Echo kept up a steady flow of generally one-sided conversation with Nicola about poetry, but Angelica and I were both silent. I wasn’t sure what Angelica was busy thinking about, but I was preoccupied by the thought of making a bad impression on Poppy. It seemed like the older girl was going to have considerable influence on our lives seeing as she lived with us.

Sure enough, the little general (I was starting to think of her that way already) was waiting for us just as Angelica had predicted. And September was sitting primly on one of the chairs in the parlor. She appeared to be reading a fashion magazine, but I saw her eyes dart up when the rest of us all tramped down the stairs together. A strange feeling of guilt passed through me. I hadn’t even been here a day and already one of my roommates looked like she was being ostracized. And I was in a group of girls instead of on the outside? That was more than passing strange.

I wished I had more time to consider my feelings about the situation, but Poppy marshaled us all into formation and led us up the hill again. She didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss among us, though I felt like she made an obvious point of talking to September when the rest of us fell into conversation amongst ourselves.

We were the last house to arrive for dinner at the school’s cafeteria – a building that also housed the gymnasium and which Poppy lovingly referred to as Gymteria. (“Or sometimes,” she said, “the Cafnasium!” Apparently its real name was the Hutchinson-Dyer Building.) The food wasn’t half-bad though, and I found myself eating much more than normal. Dinner continued in the same vein as our walk had. I was drawn into small talk with Echo and the others while September silently read her magazine. Poppy and her fellow casters apparently preferred to eat at a table with each other rather than with us neophytes. I was having a hard enough time keeping up with my house mates’ conversations when the mohawked woman who was our class dean appeared to announce an ice cream social outside on the Meadow.

“Don’t most schools call it a ‘green’?” I whispered to Angelica.

There was a twinkle in her eye when she replied. “Now, Dana, we’re super special witches who use super special titles for everything. It pleases the gods, don’t you know that?”

We gathered with our fellow classmates on the Meadow which turned out to be a huge open area spreading down the hill behind the faculty’s housing. I managed to figure out our class dean’s name from the directory that Poppy handed each of us as we were leaving the cafeteria, so I knew it was Dean Dobronravov who made us all stand in a gigantic circle so we could see each other.

“Take a good look at the girls around you,” she said, her Russian accent light but distinguishable. “They will be your competition, your shoulders to cry on, and maybe even your partners in crime.” She winked, and a ripple of giggles went through the group. “But most importantly, you are all going to be peers and friends. We see it every year at WCH – and your Head Witches will tell you too – your class becomes your family.”

The dean clapped her hands together loudly. “So before we get to the ice cream, let’s get to know each other with an ice breaker, shall we?”

I stifled at groan at her suggestion as well as the cheesy way in which she’d introduced it. Almost everyone looked put upon in the way that only teenage girls could, but I saw at least Echo was bouncing on her toes in excitement.

“Two truths and a lie!” Dean Dobronravov said. “You all know how to play? We’ll go around in the circle and play by saying your name, and then three facts about yourself. The next person has to guess which one isn’t true.” We nodded. “Good. I’ll start. Let’s see… My name is Valentina Dobronravov. My family is from Moscow. I own seven pairs of identical shoes. Annnd I’m wearing this mohawk because I lost a bet with Dean Lona.”

 It was just my luck to be standing next to the dean. I froze, scrambling to think through the things she had said and decide which was the lie, but I needn’t have worried. The dean turned the other way and asked September what she thought was the truth and the lie.

“You’re not from Moscow,” September said without hesitation. “Obviously.”

“Oh?” The dean looked amused, and for a moment even I was distracted with wondering how September could be so sure.

“Kiev is far more likely than Moscow as your accent is definitely Ukrainian.”

Dean Dobronravov seemed as shocked as the rest of us looked. She nodded. “Excellent, yes. My family is indeed from Ukraine. How did you know that?”

September shrugged.  

I realized I had to wait for everyone else before it was my turn, so I listened half-heartedly as my classmates introduced themselves and tried to think of three things to say myself.

Finally it was the girl next to me. She told us her name was Sonia and that she had been to Egypt that summer as well as some other things. I studied her face as she spoke, but it wasn’t evident to me what she was lying about. I took a stab in the dark, and she shook her head.

“My little brother’s name is Quentin,” she said with a smile. I shrugged, a bit embarrassed, and then realized everyone was staring at me.

“Oh! My turn,” I said, my cheeks burning. “Right. My name is Dana Bolete…” I heard a murmur of recognition from a few girls, and flushed even more. “Um…” All of a sudden, I couldn’t recall a single thing I had determined to say. I scrambled for a single fact about myself. This was exactly the reason I had never liked ice breakers. Thinking on the spot in front of thirty people was not my idea of fun.

“I have a little sister named Kara,” I announced finally, seizing on one of Sonia’s lines. My eyes met Angelica’s where she stood across from me in the circle. She arched an eyebrow.

“My dad runs his own business!” I blurted. There was my lie. Oh my gods! Stop being so awkward! I wanted to sink into the grass below my feet and never come up again.

“One more, Dana,” Dean Dobronravov prodded gently.

“Um… uh…” I looked at Angelica again, but she was unhelpfully raising both eyebrows at me now. Great, now everyone knew what a spaz I was.

“I wanted to go to Salem instead of WCH,” I gabbled the first thing that came to my mind.

A silence descended over the group. Oh no, what had I just said? 

-----

No comments:

Post a Comment