Chapter Twenty Two
In the morning I bundled up all of Owen's letters, his letterman's sweater and the pictures he had sent me and I put them in the Buster Brown shoebox. I promptly stashed the box on a shelf in my closet in hopes that it would help to dull the pain of the betrayal I felt. It would also keep the past away from my roommate who was sure to continue to torture me when she returned this afternoon from the infirmary.
I grabbed a barrette, combed my hair over to one side and pinned my long bangs up on the opposite side of my part. Ready to go, I grabbed my books, my letter to Ponyboy, and headed out into the hallway where I was met with the familiar faces of girls whose names I hadn't bothered to learn.
I could feel their stares and hear their dull whispers as I passed. I was hoping the hushed conversations were more about my new look than the incident with my roommate.
"Hey you!" One gal called out to me with a grin. "I heard you socked Lacey a good one Saturday night." I didn't want any trouble, so I ignored her and kept walking. She was joined by a few of her friends and they blocked the hallway as she asked excitedly, "Is it true?"
"Yeah," one of her friends asked, "did you really punch her in the face? Because if you did, she's had it coming for a long time."
I gently pushed my way through the collection of girls and continued on my way without comment. The first gal called out to me as I reached the top of the stairs. "So is it true?"
I didn't answer her, but I could hear other girls in the hallway assuring her the story was true and giggling in delight. I walked out the front door of the house and was headed to the main building for breakfast when I heard another girl call my name. I glanced behind me to see Maria Kinsley trotting towards me with a few of her friends in tow.
"Wait up, Scout!" She said as she jogged up to me. "Wow! I barely knew it was you with your hair that short. Did they make you cut it as punishment?"
"No," I said and wondered if they could have done that. "I cut it on my own."
"It looks nice!" Maria said genuinely as she walked with me. "Listen, I'd probably lose a gold star for telling you this, but most of the girls at Covington House are pretty jazzed that you put Lacey in her place last night. We all think she's had that coming for a long time now. It's just that none of us had the guts to do it, 'til you came along, anyway."
I looked at Maria and could tell by her smile that she was genuinely excited to hear about the confrontation. I smiled back. "Well, I don't think Miss Lemon is going to give me a gold star for it."
"No," Maria said, "but you stood up for yourself and that is what really matters."
"Maybe." I said softly as the wind blew against my bare neck.
For a moment there was an awkward silence between all of us, but then Maria spoke up, "Listen, I know I haven't been very hospitable since you've been here, but do you want to sit with us at breakfast?"
I looked ahead of myself and thought about how wonderful it would be to have someone to sit with. I was sure having a few friends would keep Lacey and her cronies off my back, but my stubborn defenses prevailed. "Thanks, but I've got a lot on my mind, so I'll probably sit by myself."
Judging by the look on Maria's face she was a relatively popular girl and she hadn't had her invitations turned down too often. She spoke with a slight confusion. "Okay… well, if you ever want to join us you are more than welcome too.
"Thanks." I said simply and I walked away to mulishly be by myself.
I chose to sit by myself at breakfast, but I wasn't alone. Apparently, Lacey rubs a lot of people the wrong way at Ashford and a lot of the girls went out of their way to tell me how happy they were to hear Lacey had received her just rewards. I stayed modest in accepting the praise, but it did feel good.
I left breakfast early to be sure I put the letter to Ponyboy in the mailbox before the postman arrived. It felt good to be back in class and have something to think about other than Owen. By the evening, when Lacey arrived back to the room with a black eye, things seemed to be going a little more my way. That all changed just before dinner when the pay phone rang in the hall outside my dorm room.
I was working on my trigonometry homework when I heard someone knock on our door and say, "Lacey, there is an Owen Jasper on the phone for you."
My heart jumped at hearing the name. I looked over at my roommate and noticed the genuine surprise on her slightly bruised face. Then she looked to me and grinned like a Cheshire Cat. She gloatingly jumped off her bed and sauntered out to the pay phone.
My sorrows quickly built up inside of me, and I threw my pencil down in anger. What nerve he had calling her so quickly. I couldn't believe Owen would be so cold hearted, but then I started to wonder if it wasn't the first time he had called. Maybe he had been calling her all the time and I just hadn't ever noticed. Wanting answers I ran to the doorway to listen in on the conversation.
"Oh no, Owen, it's no bother…Owen, you devil, you know that would be against the rules…" Lacey chuckled softly before she continued the conversation. "I have our picture from the dance, it's up on my mirror now…" Then she laughed hard as if something Owen had said was irresistibly funny. "Oh no, Owen, I couldn't….Owen? … Okay, bye-bye. I love you too."
Fuming mad, I headed back to my bed before Lacey could discover that I had eavesdropped. She wandered back into our room with an odd grin on her face. At first she looked troubled by the conversation, but then she caught me peeking at her for more information. She sat down on the edge of her bed and flashed and evil grin. "Hmm, I thought you said you and Owen were in love. If that were true I wonder why he would have called me?"
I looked away from the girl and attempted to act as if I didn't care that he had called her. I muttered, "I must have been mistaken."
Lacey looked at me perplexed. "Your story changed pretty fast. See, I knew you were lying this whole time. Charity case."
"You caught me." I said and slammed my textbook shut. I slipped on my saddle shoes and headed out the door in my school uniform.
I almost ran into Tucker as she came shrieking through our doorway. "Oh my gosh! Did I just hear that Owen Jasper called you?"
"Uh huh!" I heard Lacey respond with enthusiasm as Tucker screeched with delight.
I slammed the door on my way out and pouted on my walk to the library. I couldn't believe what had transpired. How could I have been so blind? All I wanted to do was sob, so I went in search of isolation.
I headed to the third floor of the library in misery. Most of the time my tears fell quietly till a storm of painful emotions flooded me as I realized all of the tender moments with Owen were nothing more than a farce. Being the fool in love was painful. More than ever, I wanted to talk to Sodapop. I wanted to apologize to him for not being more supportive when Sandy broke his heart. I wasn't there for him because I didn't truly understand his pain, but now I knew. Now I could relate with the pain of being played the fool with all of my future plans centered around someone who didn't truly love me. Alone on the third floor I kept a look out to see of Jackson would come looking for me. I needed a shoulder to cry on. I needed to call home, but I got neither.
Distraught, I skipped dinner and sat alone outside the library, but by the time the sun began to set I headed back to the kitchen for my evening punishment of kitchen duty with Lacey. I left the library and headed to the main building. The wind picked up and I pulled my uniform jacket together and buttoned it shut and thought about my family. I had to find a way to get to them. Four weeks away from them was too long, and with my new penalty six weeks felt like it would be an eternity!
In the kitchen I tried to avoid my roommate by staying on the opposite side of the kitchen, but by the time we had to start washing dishes there was no avoiding her and her incessant rambling about how wonderful Owen was and how sweet it was to receive a phone call from him.
I boiled with anger that night, but it grew worse. Owen called on Tuesday night and Wednesday night and by Thursday my agitations transformed into a nightmare.
I was sitting on the edge of my bed reading my latest letter from Ponyboy.
Dear Scout,
I just finished reading your letter. The gang would sure be proud of you that you skinned that girl real good. It sounds like she had it coming too. I have been wondering what she could have said to you to make you that mad. It must have been horrible. That's too bad you got in trouble for all of it. Kitchen duty sounds like it will be miserable, especially since your roommate will be there too. I was unhappy to read that your privileges were revoked for another two weeks. I really want to hear your voice again. I've talked to Soda and Two-Bit and Steve and Darry. Heck, I have even talked to Casey, but it's you I want to talk to the most. I was wondering, if you don't plan on telling Sodapop and Darry what happened how are you going to explain that they can't come see you or call you yet?
I've been dreaming about running away from here and coming to see you. I'm sure I could hitchhike my way there if Barrington would give me the weekend to do what I want. I'd love to give you a big hug and tell you that everything will be all right. I know deep down you know it will. Think of all we've been through and we are still doing pretty okay.
I am really sorry to hear about Owen. I don't really know what to say other than he doesn't know what he's giving up. Honestly, I never thought Owen would be the two timing type. Since I've never been in love like you and Soda I can't say much to make you feel better. I know you want Darry and Soda to think everything there is a bed of roses, but you should tell Soda about Owen. He'd know what to say to you.
I really don't understand the Owen situation. I've been thinking about getting his phone number from Soda and giving him a call. I'd sure like the opportunity to give him a piece of my mind. You know that when the gang hears about this they will probably work him over real good. He's probably lucky Dally aint alive no more or he'd really get what was coming to him!
I heard that Darry is up and walking around the hospital. Two-Bit told me that we would barely recognize him if we saw him. He's real skinny, pale, and weak. I was trying to decide whether to tell you this or not, but I might get to go home and visit in a weekend or two. One to the teachers here has a grandma who lives in Tulsa and he goes back to see her. He said next time he goes back he will see if I can hitch a ride with him. Now I get excited every time I see the teacher, and each time he sees me he says, "I aint going this weekend," but one of these times he's going to tell me to pack my bag. I'll be ready when he does.
I miss you a ton and I love you more than that! So you stay out of trouble so I can call you in twelve days! I'm counting them down. I bunch of the guys here know I can't wait to talk to you and they have all given me a dime so we can talk an extra long time. I didn't tell them I had plenty of money from Mr. Ottavi, I just take their dimes.
I have to get my schoolwork done. You be good and don't worry about Owen, someone better is sure to come along.
Love and miss you,
Ponyboy
Tears were welling up in my eyes when I heard the weekly holler of the visitor passes. Every Thursday night the visitor cards are handed out. This is when the girls learn if their family or friends are coming to Ashford to visit them or if they are approved for a weekend pass to somewhere with someone. Every week I knew I wouldn't be getting a visitor card, but every week I listened and a little voice inside my head would convince me that maybe there would be a mix up and someone I knew would be allowed to visit. Every week I was disappointed, but never as disappointed as this day.
All of the girls gathered in the hallway to listen for the visitor announcements made my Rachel Burns, vice president of the Covington House Committee. I didn't pay much attention to all of the announcements, but one struck me hard.
"Lacey McGovern, you have a visitor coming this weekend," Rachel Burns voice yelled out and handed the little cardboard card to Lacey. "Owen Jasper!"
A couple of the girls ooo-ed and ahh-ed like elementary school girls. Lacey trotted towards Rachel and snatched up the card, she read the name once to confirm it was really announcing that Owen was coming to see her. Then she sauntered back to our room and flaunted the card in my face. "Did you read this? It says I will someday be Mrs. Owen Jasper."
I read the card and it clearly said, Owen Jasper. My stomach turned ill and I muttered a pleasantry so she wouldn't see my jealous side. "Congratulations."
Then Lacey's gaggle of friends barreled into our room to drool over the card and the impending visitor.
Depressed, I slipped on my shoes and slipped out of our room unnoticed. I headed down the back stairwell and outside to get some fresh air. In the distance I noticed the lights were on in the English and Arts building. I needed a friend, so I took a chance one would be there. I took off in search of Jackson and his comforting eyes, strong shoulders and sweet smelling cologne.
Hot tears of frustration welled up in my eyes as I headed across the campus in search of the only Ashford area friend I had. I looked around to see if I was alone then I ran up the back steps, two at a time. Cautiously, I opened the door and slipped inside the semi-lit building. I let the door close behind me. When I couldn't hear where Jackson was working I set off down the hallway peeking my head into the vacant offices and classrooms. My search on the first floor came up unsuccessful, so I moved up the steps to the second floor where many rooms emitted light from the open doorways. I walked down the hallway and looked into a few empty, illuminated rooms and found no one inside. Then I found a classroom and stuck my head in hoping to find my friend, but he wasn't the man behind the desk. My eyes met with the man's eyes then I tried to back away unnoticed.
"Miss Curtis?" My advanced literature teacher called out to me. He was a younger man, probably in his late twenties. He was tall and slender with a head full of thick, black wavy hair that needed to be cut. I had heard other girls talking about how he had graduated from an ivy league school out east, but his accent was more mid-American.
Knowing there was no escape I hurriedly wiped my eyes and stepped back into the classroom. "Mr. Fredricks, how are you?" I said simply.
"I'm good. Miss Curtis, it's interesting to see you here tonight. Why don't you come on in here? I have been meaning to speak to you about something."
I slowly walked into the classroom and sat at one of the wooden tables at the head of the class. Mr. Fredricks came around to the front of his desk and looked down at me. "What brings you back to the classroom tonight?"
"I thought I dropped one of my pencils earlier and I was just checking to see if it was here." I lied and I felt my face grow flush with embarrassment. Then I looked to the floor to search for the non-existent pencil
"That's what I like about you! You understand the true value and meaning of things in life." Mr. Fredricks preached and nodded his head, but didn't seem to care about my pencil lie. "Scout, I recently graded your paper on The Grapes of Wrath and had no choice but to give you another A+."
I smiled at the result. "Thank you."
"Of all the students in my class, you are the only one with all 'A' plusses. I thought that was outstanding until I spoke with your other teachers and found out that not one of them has given you a grade lower than an A+ since you have arrived. Then I realized that's not just outstanding, it's phenomenal!"
I smiled again. "Thank you, Sir."
"Achievements like this shouldn't go unnoticed so last week I went to your file to contact your parents so I could let them know how well you were doing, but their names and number weren't listed. In fact, nothing was listed other than your records from Tulsa High School."
Uncomfortably, I shifted my weight in my seat and began to avoid eye contact with my teacher.
Mr. Fredricks looked at me with concern. "I have a friend who lives in Tulsa and works as a reporter. So I gave him a call and asked about you. I was pretty surprised to hear that your name rang a bell to him. Then he told me that there had been a few newspaper articles about you in the past year."
Mr. Fredricks paused to give me a moment to take up the conversation, but I didn't speak. Seeing this barrier to the conversation my teacher reached behind himself, picked up a thick white envelope, and carried on. "He looked those articles up for me and sent them." The man took the newspaper clippings out of the envelope, unfolded them and presented them to me.
On top of the pile was the story about the 'Juvenile Delinquents Turn Heroes'. My stomach turned sour at the knowledge that my past had followed me to the academy. I looked at the four pictures on the front of the newspaper of Johnny, Dallas, Ponyboy, and myself. I missed my friends.
"I read those articles and they are amazing stories of bravery and very sad at the same time," Mr. Fredricks said solemnly.
I flipped through the stack of articles. There was one about the trial of Duke Dobbins. One about the Winter Formal with photos of Owen and me entering the dance and being crowned king and queen. I stared at the happy photos and felt sadness rush into my heart, so I flipped to the next article, which was one I hadn't seen before. The headline read, 'Girl Attacked, Brother Stabbed'. Ignoring my teacher I began to read the article.
Seventeen-year-old James Young is on the run from the law following an incident where he attacked a young girl and stabbed her brother as he attempted to save her from the assault.
Darrell Curtis Jr. suffered life threatening injuries when…
"I've been thinking." Mr. Fredricks interrupted my reading. "As editor of the school paper I believe your story of perseverance is one that should be told here in the Ashford Academy Journal. I plan to assign a few girls from my journalism class to read these article and prepare and interview with you. I want them to write a story about you and your triumphs and tragedies in the school newspaper for next month's issue. I think your story is one that Ashford has never seen."
I smiled with nervous apprehension. "Sir, I don't think that would be a good idea."
"You're wrong!" Mr. Fredricks leaned towards me slightly to make his point. "I have only been teaching her for a few years, but right away I noticed that the girls in this school are disconnected from the harsh realities of the world. They have been sheltered from America's truths for years. Now it's up to you to tell them about the struggles of being poor and surviving on your own. Maybe then they can relate and begin to understand what the world is like for the majority and not the minority?"
"I don't think I am the type of girl Ashford is looking to showcase on the front page."
"If you ask me Ashford Academy needs more girls like you. You should be an inspiration to your peers."
My eyes widened at his reference. I had never been referred to as an inspiration and I wasn't sure I was comfortable in that role here at Ashford. I knew that I didn't agree with my teacher. I couldn't see how talking about my suffering could help social snobs like Lacey or Tucker. In my mind talking about my past would only ostracize me further from the social elite at the school.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Fredricks, but I don't think I would be comfortable being big news here at Ashford." I stood up to leave. "To be honest a lot has changed in my life since those articles were written."
"That's exactly why I need you to cooperate with my reporters. Otherwise, what you have to say won't be in the article when it goes to print."
"I'm not interesting in an article being written about me. I really don't want to be front page news again."
Mr. Fredricks seemed agitated that I had put a snag in his plan to change the social landscape at the academy. Seeing I wasn't going to cooperate, he hurriedly snatched up his copies of the newspaper articles. "I hope in the coming days you will reconsider your willingness to be a part of the article, but you need to remember as the faculty advisor of the newspaper I make the final decisions. You may not like that you are the pioneer here, but you are and the story will be told. Have a nice evening, Miss Curtis."
I didn't know what shocked me more, that he dismissed me without further discussion or that he planned to feature my life in an article whether I liked it or not. Feeling dejected, I silently turned and walked out of the classroom. I had almost forgotten the original problem that brought me to the building to begin with when I walked right into a man in the hallway.
"Whoa there!" He said and flashed a friendly smile.
"Sorry." I looked up at the man and was relieved to see Jackson standing before me. "Jackson! Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you for days!" I scolded.
Jackson looked at me amused by the attention I wanted from him, but clueless to the torment I had been through. "I've been working. What happened to your hair?"
"I cut it, but don't mind that." My eyes grew red.
"What's the matter?"
"Jackson, everything is falling apart." I said with a whimper then I began to fall apart.
Jackson's amusement waned as he realized I was upset. "Come on," he said and pulled me to the steps where we climbed to the fifth floor. None of the rooms on the top floor of the building were used. Most of the furniture was gathered in the rooms in piles covered by white sheets to keep the dust off of them. Jackson pulled me into a small, vacant office with a dormer window that had a view of Covington House. He shut the door for privacy and we sat together on a covered sofa.
"What is the matter?" He asked again.
I looked up at the young man and cried out. "Owen is coming to Ashford this Saturday to visit Lacey McGovern."
Jackson's mouth dropped open in surprise. Knowing there were no words to say he simply put his arms around me and pressed my head against his shoulder so I had some comfort for my sorrows.