Poise. Grace. Elegance. That is what makes a Greenwich girl. I recite the mantra incessantly in my head while I sit in my canvas chair, still as a granite statue. The attendant steps around me, working another bobby pin into the mass of thick, dark curls piled on my head. I want to flinch, but I don't dare move a muscle for fear of ruining even the smallest detail.
Subtly, my eyes drift to the neat row of nineteen other girls, their posture straight and perfect as my own. They stare silently into the gilded mirrors as the other attendants fuss and primp them to perfection.
As I glance around, I notice the attendants have done an outstanding job highlighting the ethereal beauty we've all been bred to possess. Spots of glittering makeup accentuate our high cheekbones and large, luminous eyes, while varying hues of pinks and reds bring out our rosebud lips. Aside from our unique colouring, our doll-like features are all nearly identical. The only other factor that gives us much individuality is the number we're each assigned at conception. I am number thirteen.
I look over at Ten, seated to my left, her long raven black hair twisted into an elaborate headband of braids. Coal black liner accents her wide, emerald eyes and coffee coloured skin. To my right, Eight's Golden blond waves are wrapped into an elegant chignon. Her deep, golden eyes stare longingly at her reflection, the corners of her mouth pulling upward into an absent smile. I can only guess that she's imaging the sort of family who will own her, as we all have at one point or another. But today is the auction. Within hours, there will be no more wondering.
I fix my gaze back on my reflection. A pair of pale turquoise eyes looks back at me, wide like a frightened deer. My skin is paler than normal and I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep the gloss from smearing.
The attendant continues to touch up my hair, pining and spraying as needed. I feel sweat breaking out over my palms and I ball my hands into fists on my lap. I can't let my nerves show under any circumstances.
The attendant finishes spraying my hair and sets the bottle on the vanity. She places her wrinkled hands on my shoulders and looks at my reflection in the mirror. Her wide smile deepens her laugh lines.
"Looks like we're all finished, my dear." She speaks softly, like she's comforting me, the way the attendants did when we were children. She must sense my nervousness. I offer a tight smile in response.
"Your attention please, girls!" Miss Gellner's voice cuts through the silence of the preparation room.
"Now that the attendants have made you presentable, you may line up single file, head for the sitting room and take your designated seats, as we rehearsed. Hurry now, no dawdling!" The slap of the bamboo training stick against Miss Gellner's hand punctuates her sharp statement.
I slip out of the canvas chair, careful not to ruffle my dress. Miss Gellner made an excellent choice with it. The deep blue silk hugs my body, with a halter design that emphasizes my slight shoulders and a flowing skirt that spills across the floor like ocean waves.
I slide into my correct place in line, following the other girls in tow. We walk through the marbled hallway of the training center that leads to the reception room. Our cushioned seats are arranged in a perfect circle at its center. We seat ourselves gracefully, ankles crossed gracefully at out sides, hands folded in our laps. I sit with my spine straight as a stick, my gaze fixed to a gilded candle on the wall in front of me. Miss Gellner's powerful voice carries through the room.
"Listen up. You might not realize it yet, but this will be the last time you hear this speech from me. " Miss Gellner walks around the circle, making eye contact with each of us. " I want you to carry yourselves with poise and elegance. Remember all that I've taught you. I've spent the past four years preparing you for today, so I expect nothing less than perfection from you girls this afternoon. I want you all to sit up properly, quiet and demure. Do not speak unless spoken to. Above all: poise, grace, elegance."
I take in Miss Gellner's strict words, careful to keep my perfect posture in tacked, even though my nerves seem to be taking over my whole body. The potential owner's we're about to meet are from the top one percent of society, congressman, politicians and senators among them. I can already hear their muffled voices as they begin to gather behind the doors. The sound of it makes my heart flutter.
Miss Gellner stands in front of us, looking us over a final time. She nods with satisfaction "Alright girls, It's time." She turns and swings open the double doors with a flourish.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you will kindly follow me into the sitting room, the girls are patiently waiting. You'll have some time to look them over before you make your final decision. As we discussed over the phone, the number on your tag will indicate the order in which you will make your selection"
Instantly, a crowd of men and women flood the room. They're all dressed in suites and pencil skirts, their hair pinned and gelled to perfection. The smell of perfume and cologne mingling in the air gives me the urge to hold my breath. Couples wander around the circle of girls and I can tell they're scrutinizing every one of us. Not daring to move an inch, I observe the couples within my line of sight. A short, balding man with greying hair and watery blue eyes looks in my direction. He's talking to a stout, curly haired woman with a nose like a bird's beak. Will they be my owners? I'm wondering idly what that would be like when a man's broad chest passes in front of me.
"What do you think of this one?" He says. His voice is booming and deep. It's the kind of voice that could command armies of men. I glance up to find myself staring into a pair of deep-set, brown eyes framed by dark, thick brows. He must be several years younger than most of the men here. His jaw is stronger and more prominent, his skin smoother but for a few faint lines around his eyes. His full lips smile slightly as he reaches out to hold one of my curls between his thick fingers.
The woman standing next to him is a regal beauty, tall and slender, with high cheekbones and full rose-coloured lips. She looks at me with her arms crossed, her icy blue eyes raking over me from head to toe. The look makes me want to sink into the floor.
"She certainly is pretty, John." The woman says, "But then again, aren't they all?"
The man called John gives her a sidelong glance. "Come now darling, must you always be so cynical?"
The woman roles her eyes in response. "Why don't you stand up for us, love? Do a little twirl."
My legs suddenly feel weak and my heart beats so hard I'm afraid it will burst out of my chest. I concentrate on keeping my breaths even. Standing gracefully in spite of my nerves, I raise my arms slightly at my sides the way I learned in my poise lessons. I turn around slowly, painfully aware of the man's dark eyes on me.
When I turn to face him again, the man is smiling broadly, showing off his straight, white teeth. For some reason, I have the urge to smile back, but I manage to keep a composed, pleasant expression.
"See, this one has some promise. Just look at those beautiful eyes." The man looks over at his wife expectantly.
"I suppose." She says, her tone tired and bored. The man sighs and turns his attention back to me.
"So love, care to tell me about your special talents? Miss Gellner said you each specialized in something."
I swallow hard before answering.
"Yes, sir. My specialties are singing and dance. " I say, hoping my pleasant smile won't waver. Miss Gellner always told us to keep our answers brief when speaking to a potential owner, but maybe that was too brief? I should
have added something more…impressive. But then he might have thought I was showing off. Or maybe it would have helped? I can't decide. I clench my sweating palms in what I hope is a subtle motion, then I realize I'm staring at the man like a simpleton. He's smiling down at me, but there's something in his eyes I can't decipher, some spark of emotion I can't seem to read. It almost looks like tenderness, but I can't be sure. He nods almost imperceptibly.
"Right then. Why don't you sit back down, love?"
my body feels like jelly as I sink back into the cushioned seat. The man walks away and I try my hardest to keep my eyes plastered to the wall in front of me. For what feels like an eternity, couples circle the room, pointing and comparing, deciding which pet will be the perfect fit for their home.
Finally, Miss Gellner calls for our attention.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you will kindly follow me to the concert hall, the girls will each perform one of their talents in order to aid you in your decision."
We all rise from our seats and head for the concert hall, clusters of men and women following behind us. I almost feel lost in the crowd of silk dresses and black waistcoats. Then, from the corner of my eye, I notice the strong profile of the man who spoke to me earlier and, for the first time all afternoon; I allow my eyes to wander.
