Chapter first, author's note at the bottom!
Chapter 7: Brethren and Sisterhood
Ring…ring…ring…this was the sound of the bell signaling the return to class.
Clomp…clomp…clomp… this was everyone getting to his or her feet.
Shuffle…shuffle…shuffle… this was the eagerness with which everyone went his or her separate direction.
As for me, I shuffled along next to Needa, not saying a word, still thinking about my outburst. I can remember only several occasions where I have done things like that. There was that time Homer was planning to barbecue that innocent pig… and I liberated him! (The pig, that is.) And that time Bart melted our Christmas tree… wow, did I give him a strangling! But those occasions were provoked by peoples' actions, no their words. And to think I prided myself on being levelheaded. You know; sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. So what was happening to me?
I pondered this as Needa showed me the way back to the fancy underground hall. As we entered it, it occurred to me that a ceiling that tall could not be concealed all the way underground. It didn't line up with the other basement ceilings, to be sure. That must mean that there's some part sticking above ground. Huh.
We passed through those monstrous white doors, back in to the classroom. I located the seat I had occupied, and sat down in it. Needa sat down next to me, and I said to her, "Sorry for the way I acted at lunch. I really shouldn't have tossed that food on her¾ " here my face broke in to a grin for the first time all day, "¾ but it felt sooo good! But I shouldn't have, and I hope I didn't bring her wrath down upon you and your friends."
"Ah, who cares?" she responded cheerfully. "We've had to deal with her kind as long as smart people and dumb people have walked the earth together."
Something about her words bothered me, but I was too preoccupied to think about it with the reentrance of Mrs. Finch. Her normal jaunty step was burdened down by a large thick book with a purple velvet cover and tassels hanging from the spine. The cover was strewn with ornate gold lettering, but there was too much glare so I couldn't make out what it said.
There was a loud WHOMP when the book hit a table, as my teacher stood hunched over at the table, gasping for air. "I'll…be…right…back," she huffed to the class, then exited.
"Just wait," Needa whispered excitedly to me, "this is the best part."
I knew not what Needa was so worked up about, but I quickly found out. Mrs. Finch came back in to the room. But the unusual thing was, she was wearing a long trailing black robe made out of…feathers. On her head was a similar headdress.
I just stared wide-eyed, trying not to laugh. However, I did turn and say to Needa, "Is this what happens every year?" She gave me an affirmative nod, and I directed my attention back to my teacher.
Mrs. Finch strode to the front-center of the room, and spread her arms (or wings, depending on how you saw it). She then said, in an ethereal tone, "Oh ye who art not yet the brethren (or of the sisterhood), come forward and arrange thyselves in an order most alphabetical.
Martin, Ralph, and I, along with several other unknown entities, proceeded to the front of the room. After inquiring as to the names of the unknown students, I placed myself third to last in line, in front of a Thatcher and behind Martin. And then the fun began.
"Akila? Dost thou be Akila?" asked Mrs. Finch of the first freshie in line.
"Um…aye?" replied Akila, in an unsure tone, which got a laugh from the class.
"Very well… wouldst thou join the sacred brethren (and sisterhood)?"
"Yes," replied Akila more confidently than before.
"Very well. Sit, Sister Akila," the teacher intoned, gesturing to the ground in front of her.
One by one, Mrs. Finch performed the same ritual with all the other new freshies (substituting Brother or Sister when appropriate). Sister Akila, Brother Eoh, Sister Lee, Brother Prince, Brother Thatcher, Brother Wiggum… finally only I was standing. And when my teacher ordered my sitting peers to turn and face me, you can imagine that I felt awkward.
Mrs. Finch caught my gaze with her piercing grey eyes, and even if I had wanted to look away I couldn't have. "Hmm… If you all will allow me to depart from the script for just a minute," she started. "Before the induction, I'd just like to give you all a little background on our young murderess here."
My eyebrows shot waaay up, until I remembered something Homer once said to me. It was during his stint as alpha-crow that he informed me. "It's called a murder honey. A murder." A murder of crows. Of course. Holy Buddha were these people crow fanatics.
Mrs. Finch continued. "Miss Simpson grew up in a very very trying household, which included the notorious Bart Simpson-- " here whispers could be heard pervading the quiet of the room, whispers to the effect of "THE Bart Simpson?!", "-- and the local power plant safety supervisor, Homer Simpson." More ominous whispers ensued. Homer had quite a reputation in Springfield as the local thickheaded oaf. "SO you can see," she finished, "that our young Murderess Simpson has had to battle tremendous odds to make it to where she is today, and I for one believe that she deserves some recognition for that."
The class clapped politely, but I stood there, fuming. How DARE she insult my family and me like that? No one but I can say bad things about my family, because no one but I has lived with them! And from the way she was talking, Bart and Homer were nothing more than a pair of stupid, lowbrow criminals, and that was definitely not true. Deep deep down they were very kind, and cared a great deal for me. Tears of anger sprung unbidden to my narrowed eyes.
"Excuse me," I said, in a low yet angry voice, "but I do not appreciate you talking about my family in that disrespectful way. I happen to love them a lot, and I would like you to realise that."
The room was pin-drop silent. Had the new girl just reprimanded the teacher? The class waited with bated breaths to see what would happen.
To the complete and utter astonishment of everyone in the room, my befeathered teacher kowtowed to me. "I beg your pardon," she said. "I did not mean to disrespect you or your family, and I humbly apologise." She got up with a smile to me, and then addressed the rest of the class. "And now you see that indeed, Murderess Simpson is really the most apt for the position. Dost thou be Simpson?"
I looked her in the eyes. "Yes."
"Wouldst thou join the sacred brethren (and sisterhood) that is our organization, and wouldst thou lead thine team of peers, and wouldst thou in turn be lead by those who are your equals?"
I blinked at the change of oath, but still said, "Yes," without any contemplation. So they intended me to be a leader? Why not?
"Very well. Murderess Simpson, return to your seat. New Brothers and Sisters, please follow."
All of us freshies returned to our seats, where we were applauded for and high-fived by those upperclasspeople around us. Needa gave me a big hug and said, "Congratulations, Simpson!"
Mrs. Finch the addressed the class. "And as part of our Corvid tradition, I will now read from the Tome of the Brethryn Corvyde, our organization's compendium detailing all past and present members, as well as customs, rituals, and other technical workings." She flipped the book open to a certain page, and began to read from it. "I will now tell the story of how we began, how we middled, and where we are today.
"The Corvid Society began in 1472, when Sir Carroll Crowsley fell upon financial ruin. He was an unsuccessful alchemist, but had one of the most brilliant minds of his time. It was rumored that Einstein developed his Theory of Relativity on some of Sir Carroll's non-alchemical work.
"As no one would fund Sir Carroll's work, he gave in to financial ruin. With what money he had left, he booked passage aboard a small merchant vessel and left for Asia. While there, he used his intelligence to once again earn back his wealth through a highly questionable and less than exemplary market. Upon his return to England, he set up the Corvid Society, saying that never again would a brilliant mind such as his become forced to result to such desperate measures. And as he solicited the help of his other brilliant friends, the organization grew and grew.
"It eventually grew in to what we are today, a program to help geniuses live their lives to their full potential despite social or financial status. Our school was among the first to instigate a high-school branch, because, surprisingly, our area has one of the highest genius-to-idiot ratios in the country."
Big surprise. Springfield was full of idiots. It'd only be normal that we have geniuses to balance them out.
"And because Springfield is chock full of geniuses, we tend to get jealous and resort to petty squabbling. I am, of course, referring to our outstanding rivalry with the Corvids of The Enriched Learning Center for Gifted Children.
A hiss echoed around the room from the upperclasspeople, and Mrs. Finch wore a most unsavory expression. "This feud has gone on for as long as both schools have been in existence, and unfortunately The Center usually comes out ahead. But last year we did come close—"
"I thought we agreed," interjected Soapy hotly, "that they cheated to win the competition!" Murmurs of agreement littered the room.
"And I thought," retorted Mrs. Finch, "that we agreed not to discuss this any further. They won by winning, and there's nothing now that we can do about it. So calm yourself McAllister, or you may not compete this year. And being Captain and all, I am certain that withdrawing is something you do not want to do."
"Dually noted," replied Soapy, and sat back down. Mrs. Finch relaxed her position. "As I was saying," she continued, "the rivalry between MBHS and The Center has always been fervid. And at the National Spring Knowledge Bowl, the competition is always the most heated. This year the prestige of our school is at stake, but I have high hopes for you all. Because the day we beat The Center will be a decisive victory for us all." The look in her eyes was indescribable, something akin to daydreaming mingled with a passion to beat the crap out of the Center Corvids. Everything was silent for a moment.
Finally she said, "Well, I think that about wraps it up. So before we break for the celebration that you all have now doubt prepared—"
"Mrs. Finch, wait a tick!" spoke up one girl. "What about the naming…?"
"Oh golly," exclaimed the teacher. "Thank you for reminding me Amaryllis! Oh yes, this is very important indeed? How could I have forgotten? Akila, Eoh, Lee, Prince, Turner, Wiggum! Report up front post-haste!"
Remaining in my seat, I watched my classmates go up. Mrs. Finch took on a solemn look, though her eyes were merry dancing stars. And then she explained. "Up until now, you have been strangers to us. But now that you are initiated, you are a member or our Corvine family. So you should feel like family, and we should get to know you better. So I want each of you to tell us your name, and what is significant about you that we should know, and that all the Corivdae after you should know, because what you say will be written down in the Tome for all to see."
She pulled out of her costume an enormous quill pen, and a bottle of black ink as well. She flipped to the back of the Tome, and proceeded to write something. Then she said, "Akila, please begin."
Akila stepped up. She was a tall girl, and she said, "My name is Rashira Akila. I love to run, and that is my one true passion in life. My other passion is Shakespeare, because Shakespeare wrote his plays for the ordinary man, so that everyone could enjoy them and not just the educated upper class."
Then squat, bespectacled Eoh stepped up; he was a nerd in every sense of the word. "My name is James Eoh, and my area of expertise is computer programming. I enjoy surfing as well, when I have the chance to take a break from scholastic endeavors to go to the beach." My eyebrows raised. The day I saw this guy surfing is the day I would eat flying pig.
Now it was Lee's turn. She was a petite and pretty girl, and in my opinion, a bit airhead-looking too. "My name is Anna Lee, and I am a proud member of the Capital City chapter of the National Teenage Ecological Society for the preservation of the Country's Wild Areas." Oh well, I guess there really isn't anything to first impressions after all. I thought to myself, "We could have some interesting anti-developmental discussions."
Next was Martin. And I just shook my head in bemusement. How could a boy as nerdy as Martin Prince become a guy as…cool as Martin Prince? Eighth-grade pocket-protected short-shorted Martin Prince and become high-school rebel-without-a-cause Martin Prince. And did I forget to mention openly-gay-and-proud-of-it? Well, he was going with Nelson. Now whether these changes were for the better or the worse, that remains to be seen. "Hey everyone, I'm Martin Prince," he said, "and over the summer I became a man! So yeah…" Wow. How eloquent he had become.
The next up for this little game was Thatcher. "Hi, I'm Lee Thatcher," he said, staring at Anna Lee with a smile. "And if any of you get me mixed up with her, then I'll say thank you for the compliment." He batted his eyelashes at her, and the class laughed. He seemed like a good guy for me to have on my team. Definitely a laugh-and-a-half.
Now it was Ralph's turn. Ever since that mysterious rose on Valentines' Day last year (one flower I was not allergic to, which rules out Milhouse), I wondered if maybe Ralph still had a thing for me. I hoped not, because I definitely did not have a thing for him. However, my worst fears were confirmed when he said, "I'm Ralph Wiggum, and when I was in second grade I played George Washington in the school play." The rest of the class bust out in laughter, but I dared not as I caught the wry glance from Ralph. Argh, I was going to have to find some way to let him down gently, and I don't think another "Let's Bee Friends" card would work. Sheesh. Boys. Who needs them?
I sensed it was my turn to go up, but instead…
"Soapy, Celia, Theo, could you three please come up here…"
The three got up, and when I looked over at Theo, my heart did a funnyish kind of pang, because I really thought that he would remember me. Although I suppose that his mind was more concerned with being super-smart than it was with remembering a lonely girl from his past. Ugh, my life was turning in to a soap opera, including all the badly overused clichés. Although I suppose the reason they are clichés is because, deep down, all people can identify, which makes people feel more at ease with whatever production happens to contain the cliché--
"…Simpson? Are you listening?" questioned Mrs. Finch in a reproachful tone. "Because we really do need you up here, you know…"
With a start, I realised that the entire class was staring at me as I was spaced out, absorbed in my own thoughts. I jumped up, knocked over my chair (to many giggles), righted it, and then blushing and mumbling "Excuse me," I quickly strode up to the front.
Soapy, Celia, and Theo were standing in an imposing triad, Celia with a long black feather in her hands, and all of them with identical feathers in their hair. It was quite silly looking, but from the solemnity I guessed I was not supposed to giggle. I walked up until I was equidistant from all three of them and the Soapy began to speak, the Tome held closed in his arms.
"We are the tree murderae of the MBHS Corvid Society. I am Benjamin, senior Murderer and captain of the MBHS Corvids. To my left is Priscillia, junior Murderess, and to my right is Thelonious, sophomore murderer. And now you, Simpson, tell as about yourself and why you think you have what it takes to be one of us."
I was equal to that challenge. "My name is Lisa Marie Simpson. I am a Buddhist, a member of Mensa, a sax player, a tree-hugger, and a vegetarian. But for your concerns, and for all that you have told me about yourselves, I am simply freshmen Murderess. "
A loud OOOOHHHH permeated the quiet of the room as all my classmates showed their appreciation for my remark. Soapy smiled at me, as did Celia, but Theo was looking down, and when he looked up his eyes caught mine, and I found that I just couldn't hold the gaze. So I looked at Celia, who motioned for me to turn around. I did so, and looked upon my classmates, and at Needa, who was smiling at me. I then felt Celia's hand on my shoulder as she said, "Thee I accept as one of us. I chargeth thee to carry out thy duties faithfully. Be of help to those under you, and be of cooperation to those your equals."
Over my shoulder, I heard Theo whisper, "Hold out your hands." I compiled, and felt the Tome pressed in to my awaiting arms. My muscles strained to support the weight. Holy Buddha was this thing heavy!
On my other shoulder came the electrifying touch of Theo's as he placed his hand. "Thee I too accept as one of us. And thee I chargeth to be of loyalty and fealty to this grand and glorious organization, for as long as the breath remains in your body."
And then I felt Soapy's hands fiddling with my hair as he stuck the feather in. "So be it," he said, and then the three hugged me, and the class applauded loudly. TO be perfectly honest, it felt really good to be hugged by Theo. And I thought I could hear a chant of "Lis-a! Lis-a!", which was soon taken up by the rest of my freshmen friends. And I'm not ashamed to admit that tears graced the corners of my eyes as I felt, at long last, some acceptance. And that felt better than anything else.
Cake. Balloons. Ribbons. Confetti. If I knew being a brain was so much fun, I wouldn't have tried to repress it for as long as I did.
It was the "After Initiation" party for the remainder of the day, and I was in a heated discussion with Anna Lee. I would have to say that she was, in fact, an utter genius and not an airhead like I originally thought. I thought we were getting along marvelously. And after finishing my discussion with her, and chatting with nearly everyone else, I found my way back to Needa.
"So, is this what being a Corvid is like all the time?" I asked, a mock-hopeful smile on my face.
"Not exactly. Usually it's work, work, work our tails off," she replied wistfully. "But it sure as seven hells beats normal school!"
"Agreed," I agreed as I lifted my gold plated fork to bring another bite of cake to my mouth from my gilded plate. "But isn't this all a little extravagant? I mean, are we really-- " I was about to say, "Are we really so much better than everyone else that we get such better treatment?" but unfortunately (or probably fortunately for me), Mrs. Finch walked up and said, "Lisa, could I speak with you for just a little bit?" I nodded, put my plate down, and followed her over to a pair of squishy armchairs in the corner next to the fireplace, in which was lit a cheerful fire. We sat down, and she picked up a bottle and poured some red liquid in a glass. "Wine?" she asked, handing me the glass.
I took it, but felt shocked doing so. "Aren't there laws against giving minors alcohol? Because I am definitely underage."
"Well Lisa, you'd' be surprised at the laws that do not apply to you in this room. For instance, you and your peers will be able to vote in the presidential elections before you turn 18."
I looked seriously at Mrs. Finch, then asked, "But why do we get special treatment when group A and the rest of the school have to follow all the rules? Why do we get gold-plated forks and gilt-china plates, when the rest of the school gets plastic forks and plastic trays? I don't consider myself better than them because I happen to be smarter."
"Are you sure of that?" asked Mrs. Finch. "Are you sure that deep down you do not consider yourself superior to your schoolmates?" She smiled a crinkly-eyed smile. "Always check and double-check yourself, Lisa. You'd be surprised what you can learn about yourself. And always ask yourself the whys Lisa. The whats can not cover it, but the whys always will." And with that last cryptic remark, she swooped away featherly, leaving me dumbfounded as to the meaning of what she had just said.
I put the wine down, and was about to walk away, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around, and locked eyes with none-other than (you guessed it) Theo. But unlike last time, I couldn't have looked away if my life depended on it. His grey eyes, as they reflected the fire, burned in to my soul. And then he spoke.
"Once upon a time, I met a girl named Lisa."
Oooo, after all this time I have left you with an evil cliffie! Oh the monstrosity of me! ;-)
::sniff:: I feel sorry for not updating since ::checks last chapter:: HOLY GUACAMOLE OCTOBER? Wow am I a bad child…
What genre is this story? I originally had it under angst, but I think it has evolved away from the angsty fic I intended to write. So I changed it to General, for the time being, but I'd like to know what you, the readers, think it should be.
Is this story becoming too cliché? Because if it is, I want someone to tell me soon.
A cookie and a Homer plushie (figuratively speaking, of course) to the readers who can tell me where I got the name of the rival school from!
BIG HUGE EXTRAGRANDIMOSO THANK YOU to all the reviewers who reviewed the story and said they liked it! Those reviews really mean a lot to me. ::glomp::
I typed most of this chapter during my free exam period on Friday, so I guess school does have some uses after all. Who'd a thunk it? And I really should be studying for exams right now, but I so do not want to. :-P
So has Theo finally come to his senses and remembered Lisa? Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see…
~$E@0K|\|@R|\|@R