Marty had never been on a train before. Many times her parents had taken trips, but she had never gone. She had always remained safe at home with Mrs. Mendalhall. She had never even been to Boston to see Aunt Kiki. Kiki had always come to visit them. Boston was a big scary place, bustling with activity.
Marty wanted to go home to New York. She wanted the security of a familiar place. Boston wasn't home to her. Mrs. Mendalhall was back in New York. Marty longed to find her dearest friend, but she didn't have a choice. She was in Boston now.
She stepped off the train, her cheek bruised and her eye marred with a smudge. Kiki had left her mark on Marty. She looked like a beaten child.
Miss Priscilla, the owner of the boarding house approached as Marty left the train. "Margaret Saybrooke?" she asked.
"Yes," Marty said softly, looking shyly at the woman who wore a long black dress and had her thick grey hair done up in a tight bun. Marty tried to read the woman's expression. Would she be nice like Mommy or mean and hateful like Aunt Kiki?
"I am Priscilla Weatherly. I own the boarding school where you'll be attending. I received a wire from your aunt stating the time of your arrival."
Marty nodded. She followed Miss Priscilla through the train station. She struggled to keep up with her brisk strides as the two made their way into the busy street.
"Wh- where are we going?" Marty asked as they walking.
"To the boarding school, of course," answered Miss Priscilla. "And just so you know, I won't tolerate any funny business. Your aunt said in the wire that you're a hellion."
"I am not... a hellion," Marty said. She didn't even know what the word 'hellion' meant, but she was sure it meant something awful. Marty felt saddened as Miss Priscilla gave her a disapproving glance. Already the school mistress thought of her as some sort of a trouble-maker.
"I'll be good," Marty said softly.
"You better be," Miss Priscilla said ominously.
"Because if you are not, there will be strict punishments," she threatened.
Marty did not want to be punished. She hated it. She was a good girl! She would show Miss Priscilla that she could behave and follow the rules. She just hoped that the adult would believe her.
They arrived at the boarding school moments later. It was a big brick building surrounded by an immense iron gate. It frightened Marty. It didn't look fun. It didn't look 'happy' at all to her. She felt nervous as they approached the gate.
*What is this place? It doesn't look like a school! Where are the girls my age? Why isn't anyone outside playing?* Marty was thinking.
She was very worried that she would not like it here. The building was so big and there seemed to be nothing going on. Where were the sounds of happy children?
A watch man let Marty and Miss Priscilla into the grounds of the school. From there, they approached the front steps. Marty seemed to be holding her breath as they stepped inside the boarding school upon entering the huge double doors.
Everything was white inside and immaculate. It seemed untouchable, reminding Marty of a place that Aunt Kiki would yell at her if she touched the furniture or accidentally knocked something down. Once inside, Miss Priscilla lead Marty up a set of stairs.
"We get up at the crack of daylight here," she informed Marty. "Each little girl will be responsible for chores. If they are not completed correctly and accurately, you will be punished. You will be sharing a room with three other girls. I will take you on a quick tour of the school building so you know where your room, your class room, the library, the mess hall, and other rooms are located. "
Marty followed along quickly behind the school mistress, taking in all the sights and sounds. She saw the little girls. They were all wearing lifeless, dull, drab school uniforms made of grey material and consisting of a wool sweater and a skirt. All of them had the same hair-do, just like Miss Priscilla's. Not one of them smiled. Their faces were pale and haunted. They were busy doing their chores, just as Miss Priscilla had explained. Some were working in the kitchen, scrubbing the floors, washing the dishes, and kneading the bread. Others were making beds and cleaning chamber pots. It seemed that each child had a particular task to do.
"Hurry, girls," Miss Priscilla snapped at them. "You mustn't dawdle!"
The girls worked harder, but still Miss Priscilla frowned at them. No matter what they did, the woman didn't sound pleased. Was this a school or was it a work-house?
"Come along, Margaret," Miss Priscilla said. "I will show you to your room. It's on the third floor."
"Alright," Marty said as she followed the school mistress up another tall staircase. The wood was perfectly polished. The school was pristine. No doubt the little girls had cleaned it daily from top to bottom.
"Hurry along, child. We haven't got all day," Miss Priscilla insisted when Marty could not keep up with her steady strides.
After many steps, they reached a long hallway. Marty was out of breath. The muscles in her legs were crying out for rest.
"I am so tired," Marty complained quietly.
"None of that. You have a lot of work to do, young lady," Miss Priscilla said. She took Marty's hand and tugged her along.
At the end of the hallway was a small room. I had four little cots made up with white linens. It was completely cold and lifeless, just like Miss Priscilla.
"This is your room. You will share with the other girls. You may place your luggage under the bed. While you are here, you will wear this uniform at all times." Miss Priscilla handed Marty a uniform. The fabric was stiff and scratchy.
"Once you put it on, you will go downstairs and help scrub the chamber pots," said the school mistress. "And after that, we'll have lunch. We are serving gruel."
"If you cause any sort of trouble, you will be swiftly and severely punished. Do you understand what I am telling you?" prompted Miss Priscilla.
Marty nodded. Her lower lip quivered, but she tried not to look afraid. Sadness had pervaded just like a heavy fog. The longing for her parents and her former life made her throat sting. Would she ever be happy again? Was this her life now - emptying chamber pots?!
Miss Priscilla left for a few minutes so Marty could change into her uniform. It was the most uncomfortable garment Marty had ever worn. It made her skin itchy and irritated.
She stepped out of the bedroom where Miss Priscilla waited impatiently in the hall. "Hurry along," the school mistress ordered.
"Wh- when will we be learning?" Marty asked softly as Miss Priscilla was leading her downstairs. After all, this WAS a school. Marty was eager to start her education. She was also looking forward to making some friends. Surely the other girls were nice here?
Marty was hoping to play with the other girls. At home, she had always had her precious doll. But Sara Beth was upstairs, in the suitcase under the bed, and Marty felt so alone. She was missing her dearest friend. She didn't feel complete unless she was carrying favorite doll.