Chapter Thirteen

It had been hours since we left Tulsa when Mrs. Dillard woke me. I sat up, wiped the sleep from my eyes, and looked out the window. We were on a narrow, well-groomed road that seemed to wind though a lush wood. Seconds later the thick timber opened up to a grand driveway leading to and around the collection of large, brick colonial style buildings with their mutton bar windows and white trim. We had arrived at Ashford Academy. I studied the buildings as we drove past. The school looked like an ivy league college, and all of the girls on the grounds were dressed in knee length gray and blue plaid skirts. Some of the girls were in white blouses and some of them had on their required blue blazer. I wondered to myself if the uniforms were given to us, or if I would have to pay for them. I would hate to have no money for other things while I was here.

The squad car pulled up outside what appeared to be the main building. Mrs. Dillard turned to me. "Remain in the car. I shall return." With that she exited the vehicle, walked along the brown brick sidewalk, up the stone stairs and into the large building. I slumped down in the backseat hoping to not be seen and hoping the police officer wasn't interested in small talk.

"This looks like a pretty fancy school you'll be going to," the officer commented.

I rolled my eyes at the entrance of unwanted chitchat. I took in a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah, fancier than any place I've ever been."

"I bet you'll like it here." The officer said in a friendly way.

"I don't have much of a choice." I grumbled lowly and ended the conversation.

A few minutes later Mrs. Dillard waddled out of the main building with a small, white piece of paper in her hand. She climbed back into the car and held a semi-private conversation with the driver. He put the car into drive and headed down the brown brick driveway around the corner. We pulled to a stop at the rear of the building near a service entrance. My self-confidence sunk as I realized this is where I would be entering my new school for the first time. My social worker saw my displeasure. "Scout, you need to understand. If the other girls saw you come into the school all battered and bruised they would never understand." I opened my car door and climbed out of the car. I trusted the woman was right.

A tall, dark haired gentleman in an expensive suit emerged from the service doorway. He walked towards me with a small smile on his face. "Scout Curtis, I presume?"

"Yes Sir."

The man frowned a bit at my appearance then he gathered my hand in his. "I am Steven Donaldsen, Dean of Ashford. I am so sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances, but be assured we are very happy to have you at our Academy." The man escorted me along the sidewalk to the service entrance. "Come along, and I will show you to your temporary living quarters. Mrs. Dillard, right this way." My social worker followed behind us. As we ascended the more modest stone stairs in the rear of the building a young man emerged from the doorway. Mr. Donaldsen paused to give an order. "Jackson, please gather the young woman's belongings and bring them along."

"Right away, Sir." The young man replied and gave me a long stare followed by a welcoming smile. I smiled back, out of politeness, then continued into the building with my escort.

Mr. Donaldsen spoke as we walked down a long dim hallway. "Scout, you need to understand that it wouldn't be acceptable for you to begin attending lectures in the classroom in the condition you are in." I didn't comment, but purposely reached my hand up to cover the bruise on my face. The man pointed to the right as we met with two intersecting hallways. "Once the scrapes and bruises have healed we will place you in the dormitories with the other girls and allow you to begin attending classes. Till then, you will be staying in the infirmary. Your professors will send you the necessary textbooks and you will be required to begin your studies independently in the morning. I do hope you understand."

"Yes, Sir. I do." I did, and I appreciated the chance to heal before meeting the other students. I wouldn't want their first impressions of me to be tarnished by the truth that the worst day in their lives would probably be comparable to my best.

As we walked Mrs. Dillard began to ramble about all the school had to offer. Tennis courts, music classes, swimming pools and all of the other amenities money could buy. I thought about the fifty-dollar bill in my pocket and knew that I probably wouldn't be the best customer at the school store. Mr. Donaldsen stopped by a white paneled door with red trim. The sign on the outside simply said "Infirmary". The three of us proceeded into the large room. The ceilings in the room were at least fourteen feet high. The tile on the floor was black and white checkered and the walls were painted in a soothing mint green. A nurse, complete with a white dress, stockings, shoes and cap stood to greet us.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Donaldsen."

"Good Afternoon, Nurse Kelly. I would like to introduce you to Scout Curtis. She is the student we spoke of earlier today."

"Of course. Welcome, Scout. We are so happy to have you here." The nurse smiled perfectly. "My staff and I will be here to nurse you back to health, so let us know if there is anything you need to make your stay here in the infirmary more comfortable." One couldn't help but greet the beautiful women with the same welcoming gesture, so I smiled back. She gestured for us to follow her into the vast room with a row of beds on each wall and a white, matching curtain to separate each space. We walked through the infirmary passing a dozen beds that would have been suffice for me. Ten rows later, and at the end of the room the nurse stopped and gestured to her left. "Here is where you'll be staying."

I looked around at the completely empty facility and suddenly felt like an unwanted blemish. "All the way down here?"

Mr. Donaldsen explained, "We wanted you to have as much privacy as possible. Plus, at least at the end of the row you will have a window view." Mr. Donaldsen smiled and awaited my agreement. He was right, the only windows in the room were the four at my end of the room, and I had one near my bedside.

"You will find your nightclothes in the wardrobe. The women gestured to the small metal cabinet on the right side of the bed. "Nightclothes are required attire for all patients in the infirmary, no exceptions. Ashford Academy has taken the liberty of providing you with all necessary toiletry items. They are located above your sink in the medicine cabinet." Nurse Kelly motioned to tiny white sink on the right side of the bed. "When you should need to use the lavatory it is located at the front of the infirmary near the nurses station. You may have your belongs with you, but they are not to be unpacked while you are here. Any questions?"

I looked around the space one last time and felt overwhelmed by the change in my lifestyle. I pushed my hands into the pockets of my skirt and felt the money that Mr. Ottavi had given me. I looked up at Mr. Donaldsen and asked the one question that had entered my mind. "Will I need to purchase my own uniforms and school supplies?"

Mr. Donaldsen smiled and shook his head. "No, Scout. Here at Ashford Academy you are our guest. It is not often that we have a student of your intellect, so you provide stellar grades for our records and we will provide you with all of your basic necessities."

I nodded my head in agreement. I liked the idea of paying my way with my grades.

Nurse Kelly spoke up, "Well then, if there are no other questions why don't we leave you to change into your nightclothes and rest."

Mr. Donaldsen added on last direction. "In the morning, I will be back to inform you of your classes and provide you with your books."

"Mr. Donaldsen?" I asked, and he turned to look at me for my question. "Would I be able to make a call to my home? I'd like to tell my brother that I am here."

Nurse Kelly spoke up before the Dean could. "I am sorry, but infirmary patients are not allowed to place or receive phone calls. Once you are in the dormitories you may place calls on Saturdays and Sundays with your dorm mother's permission."

The news stung, and Mrs. Dillard spoke up in my defense. "Surely, you could make an exception considering Scout's case."

Nurse Kelly looked indignant. "Madam, the infirmary it not the place you should look for an exception."

Mrs. Dillard offered the woman a slightly evil eye, and then she spoke softly to me. "I'll talk to Sodapop first thing when I get back. You still have Ponyboy's address, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." I said quietly.

"Good." She said and reached into her large purse. She pulled out a light blue box tied up in a matching ribbon. "Before I go I want to you to have this. It's a box of stationary, a few pens and stamps so you can write to your brothers."

I took the beautiful box and gave Mrs. Dillard a hug. She hugged me back and then turned to hustle out of the infirmary as fast as her chubby legs would carry her. Mr. Donaldsen and Nurse Kelly followed, leaving me alone to change into my required nightclothes.

I pulled open the door on the white cabinet and pulled out a floor length, white, cotton nightgown. I hesitated to change out of the plaid skirt and red sweater set that Owen had given me for Christmas. I laid the nightgown on the bed and sat down beside it to gaze out the window that was furnished with white wooden accordion shades on the inside that could be pulled shut for privacy. I was just about to allow myself to cry when the sound of footsteps approaching caught my attention.

I turned my head to see Jackson arrive to the foot of my bed with my two suitcases in hand. I jumped up and tried to grab the luggage from him. "Here, those must be heavy, I can take them."

Jackson laughed and his grin made his slightly chubby cheeks buckle under the pressure. "I've managed to carry them this far. I am sure I can handle setting them down wherever you want me to."

I blushed with embarrassment and motioned to an open spot under the window. "Over there should be fine."

Jackson walked to the window and set the old suitcases down. He turned back to me, raised his dark brown eyebrows, looked down his long narrow nose and spoke in a deep voice. "I'm Jackson Wesley. I work maintenance around here." I studied the young man who stood just under six foot tall. His eyes were greenish blue and his hair was dark brown and wavy like Darry's hair. Even though his hair was grease free, and slightly tussled, he looked like the type of guy you would find in my neighborhood in Tulsa. He raised his eyebrows and shifted his weight. The young man pointed at my face. "Looks like you've had a bit of trouble."

I furrowed my brow. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough." Jackson said in good spirit. "Well, if you need anything or have any questions about Ashford Academy don't hesitate to ask." The young man rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a second.

I looked up at him. "Okay then. I'll let you know if I ever need anything." Jackson turned slowly and walked away. I could still hear his footsteps when I looked around my space and felt completely alone in the vast, sterile environment. Hearing the sound of his footsteps fade I yelled out. "Jackson?" His footsteps stopped and changed direction. He walked back and peeked his head around the half drawn curtain to look at me. I struggled to find something to say then I blurted out a question, "You really don't look old enough to be a maintenance man."

Jackson smiled and exhausted his breath through his nostrils. "That's because I got out of high school early for good behavior. I am actually doing an apprenticeship. Not that I ever aspired to be a maintenance man, but the pay is pretty good at a facility like this."

"Oh." I looked out the window at the budding green trees and beautiful blue sky. Thoughts of Darry jumped into my mind and my lower lip began to quiver as I tried to fight back feelings of sorrow.

Jackson noticed my sadness. "Listen, for what it's worth, you look like a sweet girl and whatever happened to you before you came here. I bet you didn't deserve it." Jackson waited again for a response, but I couldn't bear to speak and lose my composure. After another awkward moment of silence the young man offered one more smile that I didn't see and then he turned and left. This time, I didn't call him back.

I looked out the window again at the large, brick buildings. They each stood five stories high with charming white dormer windows protruding from the roofs. My new home was nothing like my old neighborhood. I turned around and eyed my stark white hospital like living arrangements. My lip trembled harder with emotional pain. I took one step forward then crumpled to my knees. Alone, on the cold floor, I clasped my hands together and cried, "I want to go home."