Chapter 11

            The girls mumbled their good nights, and headed back to their rooms.  I got up, changed into my pjs, climbed into bed with a book about dead civilizations, and slept soundly the rest of the night.  I woke up the next morning to a slight tickle on my face.  I jerked, sat up, and looked to see Dane, sitting on the floor next to my bed.  I smiled at him, he grinned his now familiar lopsided grin, and I settled back on the bed.

            "Hey." I whispered, my voice somewhat hoarse.  "What are you doing here?"

            "I just came to see you, babe." He replied, tracing the bridge of my nose.  "Where were you yesterday, I thought we might do something?"

            "I had another run-in with Rebecca Morgan." I replied.  I told him the story, carefully omitting the emotions of a near-death experience.  I explained how I'd fallen asleep, accidentally, of course, and didn't wake up until it was way too late.  Cara burst in through the bathroom door, and stopped dead when she saw Dane sitting there.

            "Liz, what are you doing, we've got church in an hour?" Cara asked.

            "Church?" I asked.

            "Yeah, church.  Ms. Harper thinks for us to become proper young women, we need God in our lives." She answered, taking on the air Ms. Harper carried with here.

            "Shoot, how much time do I have before breakfast?" I asked, jumping out of bed and making for the closet.

            "Two hours." Cara answered, nonchalant.  "We eat breakfast after church.  It's the only day of the week we go to town, and since all the help gets Sundays off, we eat in town in the church basement with the congregation."

            "Well, what do I wear?" I whined, flustered beyond reason.  Dane, who had been chuckling through the whole scene, broke out in laughter at this last exchange.  "What's so funny?" I demanded.

            He quelled the outburst, cleared his throat, and said, "Nothing."

            "That's what I thought." I huffed.

            "Liz, wear your uniform, calm down, take a shower, quick, mind you, brush you teeth, and meet me in the hall, okay?" Cara replied.  "Dane, get yourself down the chute and out of the dormitories before we leave for church, so nobody sees you, okay?"  Dane and I mumbled our 'yes ma'ams' and he quickly departed.  Cara's take-charge attitude this morning surprised me, but then again, it seemed our whole floor did follow her lead most of the time.  I followed my orders to the letter and found Cara waiting in the hall when I emerged twenty minutes later.

            "Church starts at nine, and the bus leaves in about…" She said, checking her watch, and then her eyes got big and she said, "One minute!  Go Liz, run!"  I thought she was teasing, until she sprinted down the hall!  I ran after her, down the stairs, through the foyer, and out onto the front drive.  We just made it to catch seats on the second bus, moments before the doors closed.

            We made it to church in twenty minutes and were seated at the back, taking up nearly half the place.  Someone giggled and Ms. Harper snapped her head around, giving the girl a stern look from the pew in front of us.  Elsa turned too, but with a different expression merely placing a finger to her lips.  The church was most likely the biggest in town, and from the songs they sang, obviously Catholic.  The place was something right out of the Middle Ages, complete with the castle style architecture and the chanting priests.

            It was truly a beautiful church, full of stained glass windows depicting biblical stories, lantern lights and fans hanging from the peak of the high vaulted ceiling, but that wasn't the half of it.  The walls were bare brick tucked behind statues, candles, and flowers, but the ceiling, oh the ceiling was glorious!  Every inch of it was covered with brightly colored paintings done with the most skilled hand this world has ever known!  Each different picture was outlined with gold Latin scrawl, most likely describing what was happening in the picture.  Michelangelo and his Sistine Chapel would have bowed down to the feet of this painter at the sight of his work!

            I couldn't help but stare, guessing what story each picture depicted, doing my best to translate what little Latin I knew.  Someone snapped his or her fingers at me, and I looked over to see a very angry Ms. Harper staring at me.  I lowered my eyes and joined in the whispered prayers, but still my mind wandered to the ceiling high above me and the painter who did it all.  After church, the other girls and I trudged down the stairs behind the door in the front right corner of the church.  The smell of sugar, flour, fruit, and coffee greeted our senses at the bottom of the carpeted steps.

            Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were no shabby deal at Harper's School for Girls, in fact, I secretly enjoyed my Harpy meals, but this was a true banquet.  Elsa directed us to five separate tables, one for each floor, and pointed out the buffet.  I grabbed a plate and started carefully selecting pastries, wary of Ms. Harper's gaze.

            "You can have whatever you want." Cara whispered over her shoulder from in front of me.  "As much of whatever you want, too!"

            "Really?  Even coffee?" I gushed.

            "Really, really, especially coffee!" She answered.  I looked around and suddenly saw it all in a new light.  I saw apple strudel sticks, chocolate covered donuts, every kind of fruit possible cut in bite-sized pieces, coffee, milk, orange juice, cut pieces of all sorts of pie, and brownies.  I piled my plate high with pastries and fruit, and filled my cup to the brim with coffee.  I walked carefully back to my seat and ate as much as I could, along with three cups of coffee.  The other girls were just as bad if not worse; at least I was eating fruit.

            I went back to the buffet and collected pastries that didn't have icing on top, and quickly wrapped brownies, cookies (six different kinds), and apple strudel sticks, my favorite, in napkins and stuffed them in my pockets.  I grabbed one last Styrofoam cup of coffee on the way out the door, it would have to last me a week.  At eleven, we reluctantly shuffled onto the buses and the entire school must've sighed at the sight of the church disappearing behind us.  We made good time back to the school and shuffled sadly off the bus.  I followed Cara up the stairs to the second floor and moseyed to my room.

            "Hi." I mumbled, sensing Dane behind me as I closed the door.

            "How was church?" He asked.

            "The service was dull, but the church itself was nice." I sighed.  I plopped down on the bed beside him, offered him a brownie, which he accepted enthusiastically, and described the church to him.

            "It sounds beautiful, Liz." He agreed.  "Which church was it?"

            "The big Catholic one near the city limits on the east side." I replied.  He nodded thoughtfully, and then mumbled something about asking Sam.  Sam, or Samantha as we know her, was Dane's aunt and one of the help that takes care of our rooms.  Sometimes, we would find little boxes of chocolates, candy or bubblegum wrapped between the bedclothes, or hidden in our closets.  For this small kindness, among others, we loved Samantha, and trusted her with all our secrets.  She could make a drab, bare room seem warm and cozy simply by changing the comforter, shower curtain, or adding a flower clock instead of the classic gold one.

            "So, you want to do something?" He asked.

            "I've got homework." I grumbled.

            "Well, look at you, being the good little studious church-goer.  Your settling right in, aren't you?" Dane teased.

            "Shut up, it's World History, which I like, and it's easy." I retorted irritably.

            "Alright, alright, easy there, tiger.  I'll tell you what, you stay here and do your homework, and I'll bring you some food for thought." He replied.  I nodded and watched him disappear into the closet floor.  I sat down at the little table and breathed in the fresh fragrant flowers in the vase in front of me.  Samantha must have been here I thought when I discovered the box of gobstoppers taped to the underside of the table.

            I pried the gobstoppers off the table and set them beside my history book.  I opened my book to the chapter we were supposed to do, opened my thesaurus to nothing in particular, and took out my paper to work on.  I was supposed to read the chapter, answer the questions in complete sentences, then write and essay.  The essay was about if you could be anyone from the chapter, who would you be, and why.  I finished the questions in ten minutes flat, but I was clueless about the essay because the chapter was on great leaders of the past.  They all lived, ruled, conquered, and died untimely deaths.

            At one, half the gobstoppers were gone, I'd broken my pencil, twice, but the essay was finished.  I put away my things in a tidy stack, careful not to smear my paper.  I sat for a moment, just resting after the brain-wracking assignment, then kneeled before my dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer.  I pushed aside pajamas and under things and ever so gently, lifted my book out.  I ran my fingers over the not-so-perfect cover and binding, closed the drawer, carried the book to my bed, and settled in to write, waiting for Dane to return.

            I wrote four or five pages before I dozed off.  I woke at five, rolled over, and cursed myself when I spotted the fast food bag on my nightstand.  Dane had come and gone, leaving me alone with cold, greasy food.  I grabbed the bag, peeked inside, and smiled.  A BLT, no mayo, just the way I like it, curly fries, and a large vanilla shake.

            I scarfed down the cold, but delicious food, tidied myself, ran downstairs, outside, and around the side to join the ranks.  Some of the girls on my floor glared at me a bit, but not nearly as bad as yesterday.  Cara, in mid-sentence, spotted me, smiled, and continued her conversation.  When she'd finished her train of thought, she sauntered over to me and half hugged me.  We hung out in the shade near the fence, just talking, and tossing a ball back and forth, for nearly an hour, until Ms. Harper blew her whistle.

            At dinner, I carefully, so as not to be seen, unwrapped twelve of my hidden sweets and nonchalantly dropped one on every tray.  The girls stared at the treats, then at me, as if I had given them my last penny.

            "We took some ourselves, we don't need yours." LA said.

            "I know, I saw you." I replied.

            "Then, why are you giving us yours?" T asked.

            "Because I want to." I answered.

            "What about you?" D asked.

            "I can get more next Sunday." I said simply.

            "Are you sure?" FBI asked.

            "Are you still mad at me?" I asked.

            "Is this a bribe?" Shadow asked.

            "That depends." I replied.

            "On what?" Ice demanded.

            "If it'll work." I sighed.  With that the war was over.  The girls eyed their treats a minute, and then shoveled them into their mouths, just in case someone saw us, rather unladylike too.  I ate my brownie, smiled at the girls, and then we quietly finished our dinners and bussed our trays.  We trudged up the stairs as a whole, after chore assignments, said our good nights, and dispelled to our separate rooms.