Chapter 5 Part 1

Injustice and Mr. Rueben

If Mrs. Top's class were a dish of peas, it would have had coating of film over the top from not being stirred for long time. Suddenly the film was punctured with, not a spoon but a bell."Well then," Said Mrs. Top's lulling voice. "I suppose class is over then. Where did all the time go? We were just getting to the interesting part-malfunctions in the brain stem."Claire blinked and looked over her shoulder to Trudy who was looking right back."Thank goodness!" She whispered, sliding out of her desk and gathering her things.Claire stood up and walked out with her. As she exited the room and began walking down the hall to the door, she thought about how nice she must look in her new hat. Her mother had mailed it to her just the day before and it was a lovely storm blue with a white ribbon.But poor naïve Claire! She scarcely noticed when suddenly she felt no ribbon on the back of her neck, and in a flash the hat was whisked off her head and a lanky figure blew past her."Pete Jinkins! You give that hat back this instant!" Trudy, ever alert, said in a threatening voice. "Claire is the daughter of a governor!"But Pete was already at the door. He held it open for the other students to trickle out and made a mocking bow with the hat so low that Claire considered simply tipping him over."M'lady." He said before he popped back up red in the face and grinning."Please Pete." Claire said, putting her small hand out for the hat.She was so serious, so sober and sincere! Her eyes were big and sad and begging.For a moment, Pete Jinkin's eyes nearly matched. His dark animated eyebrows fell and he looked at Claire as if he were ashamed. But then he pulled the hat over his crow hair and dashed outside toward the cafeteria skipping and singing "la la la" in a gross attempt of portraying a female. Trudy rolled her eyes and walked out after him, expecting Claire to follow.But Claire stood there for a moment. Jokes were one thing, but she had asked for her hat in all seriousness. How could he be so ungentlemanly?Once seated at the long table, Claire borrowed Trudy's hand mirror and patted down her un-hatted hair."Where's your new hat Claire?" Judith asked as she sliced her lamb chop."Pete Jinkins stole it from me." Claire said, looking up from her own meal with testy eyes."Oh, I should have guessed." Judith said. "Hey Marie, are you going to eat your roll?"Claire felt a pang of sadness. Was this a common occurrence? She looked around.One long table with fifty plus girls all dining and chatting and giggling and sipping.There were the nice girls and the girls whom Claire had been warned of.But beyond that there were other categories. Headmistress Victory referred to the table as "The Family Table." She was proud that all of her girls sat in peace together like sisters. Claire had been happy to see this during her first meal at Beekman, but now she saw it differently. They may have all sat at the same table, but they did not sit together. Claire was told to sit on the end toward the door which is where Trudy, Judith, Jacqueline, Marie and a couple other specific girls sat every day. Toward the middle was where Malvina and Regina and Charity and Yvette sat gossiping about boys. Then there was the group in the very middle which is where Mabel and Wanda and Tilly and Paddie sat. They hardly spoke at all but simply stuffed their faces. Then there were the girls who Trudy called "The Whizzes." They were the girls who cared for nothing but good grades and college. They sat and discussed papers and ways to get extra credit. This included Agatha, Sara, Ingrid, Poppy, Rebbecca and Viola. Then there were a few trouble makers and hoydens who wore their hair in plain styles and lived life for the sheer love of recess when they could run around and entertain themselves like boys by climbing and jumping and wrestling (though never in front of Headmistress Victory.) And then there were the girls who were in their own group simply because they didn't belong to any other group. The other girls refereed to them simply as "The Odds." This included Betsy, the poor farm girl who struggled in nearly ever class, Opal, the artist who nipped every friendship in the bud with a morbid or disturbing comment, Rosa May who spoke to no one at all but drummed on the table and stared, Etta, who was so heavy that she had to pull up her own, larger chair at lunch and fell asleep sporadically every day (and was dozing at this moment with her head on her own soft shoulder), and Hurma who was from Russia and spoke poor English but cried often in loud foreign voice for "Papa.""May I be excused?" Claire asked Mrs. Inches who stood at the end of the table behind Judith and observed lunch every day. She nodded, having learned long ago that Claire Winters could be trusted. Claire slipped out of her chair leaving her food untouched and tip-toed out the door.

1880's Quilt

Chapter 4 part 2

Settling In

Judith opened her heavy wooden door and peered around it.
"Psst! Psst Marie!" She said in a loud whisper. There was a creak and the neighboring door opened.
"What is it Judy?" Marie said, her eyes half open.
"Get Jacquie...let's go!"
So the three girls crept down the hall in their nighties. As they passed room twenty-two Judith stopped mid-step.
"Listen..." She whispered in a voice so low it was almost just a breath.
Beyond the door two girls were whispering and twittering.
"Oh Trudy!" One voice said. "Your feet are like ice!"
"Sorry! My socks are all drying on the rack." Said another chipper voice.
"Yes," Said the voice which was Claire's. "We've had such busy week, we waited too late to take our laundry to the the laundry room." There was a pause as the two girls rearranged their covers. Tonight was chilly and the two girls were both in Claire's bed-the furthest from the window naturally.
"Speaking of the laundry room," Claire said in a less mirthful tone. "Do we actually have permission to go in there and have our spa?"
Trudy turned toward Claire and squinted, her eyes adjusting to the dark.
"What do you mean permission? All the girls go in and out and the housekeepers see us doing it every day."
Claire frowned.
"But nobody has actually asked if we could? I mean asked Headmistress Victory?"
Trudy chuckled. "Haven't you ever heard of a goody-two-shoe Claire? We don't have to ask. If we did, she would probably think of some reason why we shouldn't when it is perfectly fine and has provided us with a little fun."
Claire felt uncomfortable. Often times she had felt this way with Cybil in the past year, when she would gossip or go gaga over boys or whisper during church.
“I've been here eight days.” Claire suddenly thought. “Cybil hasn't written to me once!”
She let this roll off her back as she spoke again:
"About the housekeepers Trudy...and the cooks and everyone. Are we really supposed to linger in the kitchen and talk with them?"
Now Trudy almost seemed irritable.
"Don't be closed minded Claire. Are you prejudice against the lower class?"
The tables had turned.
"No! Of course not. My family is always generous and some of my friends from school were desperately poor." Said Claire in a panic of defense. "I just don't want to do anything that we aren't supposed to do." She said more softly.
Trudy, apparently not ruffled, smiled and snickered.
"You mean you don't want to get in trouble!" She said poking Claire in the stomach. Both girls laughed and then began talking about their classmates.
"Anyway," Trudy said briskly when the laughing had died down. "How was your first week at Beekman? I mean, how are you liking the classes over all and what did you think when you saw all the boys? Are you angry that I hadn't told you that they'd be there?"
Claire sat up, leaning against her pillow propped against the wall.
"It's a dear place!" Said Claire as if she could never imagine it any other way. "And the classes are all fine except for algebra of course and I have yet to meet the mysterious Mr. Rueben. Mrs. Loraine is nice and I like spelling in some ways...especially now that she was so impressed that I could spell Arkansas. The cafeteria now has a special place in my heart as a place to make friends. Sewing has never been so interesting...Mother was glad to hear about that. The boys are slightly intimidating. Pete Jinkins is charming despite being sly. I fear he is up to no good as you said. I can't believe how some of the girls act around them! Marie is quite the impertinent little flirt! I wish that we weren't so separate though...all the ages."

Chapter 4 Part 1

Settling In

Claire did her best to make friends and grow accustomed to her new environment, but sometimes late at night or while she got ready for bed all alone, she felt a pang of homesickness and rushed to write to Marvin or her parents or sometimes Cybil. But Claire had already been there a week and hadn't received one word from Cybil Anderson. "Perhaps," Claire said to Trudy one day in the cafeteria. "She has written to me now but it hasn't arrived. It takes a while you know and she doesn't live near the post office." But Claire was wrong. Cybil hadn't written back. Marvin had though and his was so sincere and loving and long that Claire thought it almost made up for the lack of mail from the Anderson household. But Cybil fell out of Claire's mind on the eighth day and didn't return for some time.
"Don't get nervous or anything," Trudy said Monday morning. She was brushing her hair at the mirror which hung on the closet door and looking at Claire's reflection. Claire was sitting slightly hunched on Trudy's bed.
"It is just Mr. Maboni we're talking about and he's really easy. He only calls on the students he knows...the absolute math whizzes." She then squinted and yanked at a tangle in her robin-red hair.
"I know that. You've told me about each of the teachers but it is still algebra no matter who is teaching it...or trying to teach it rather." Claire said pessimistically.
Trudy turned around and tossed Claire the brush. The sharing of the brush was a sign of deep intimacy betwixt the girls and had already begun the night before.
"Oh I am so exhausted!" Trudy said, stepping out of Claire's view of the mirror. "But I'm glad we stayed up so late so that I could tell you about each of the teachers and about the schedule and who is a friend and who is a foe."
Just then the bell rang. "Rise and shine ladies!" Mrs. Inches said. "Time for class!"
Claire and Trudy exchanged humorous looks of panic.
"Hurry! Toss me my brush back-here are your shoes!" Trudy said giggling.
"My first day and I'll be late!" Claire said, buckling her unpacked suitcase and shoe at the same time.
"Oh no you won't! Mr. Maboni won't let you in if your late and then you'll miss the whole class, have to wait in the hall for the whole first period and fail the test!"
Claire knit her eyebrows in deep concern but Trudy didn't see her.
"I hope he doesn't care if his students have tidy hair or not!" Claire said right before Trudy whisked her out into the hall.
"Hello Class," Mr. Maboni said when the last two students (if you can guess who they were) took their seats. "I am Mr. Conrad Maboni and today, like every day, we are going to talk about algebra."
Claire glanced at Trudy. Unfortunately, Claire was near the back (having been born in November) and Trudy was on the March and April row. Trudy looked back encouragingly.
"Open your books to page one." Mr. Maboni said dryly. Claire settled into her seat as she had settled into this new chapter of her life called "boarding school", and lifted her book cover. Her stomach was fluttering with anxiety and her vision blurry like her mind. She felt certain that she was about to prove herself to be a complete klutz.
Then she realized that as she had been looking for her seat, she had been avoiding all the faces. She lifted up her head and looked around. And lo! Who was beside her? A student with short black hair and beady black eyes and a long nose. And this student was nearly six feet tall and was wearing pants instead of a dress. Could it be? Yes. There were boys in the class.

Chapter 3 Part 2

So Claire said a silent prayer and crawled into the hole as Judith, Jacqueline and the third girl, whose name was Marie, removed their cucumbers and watched with interest.
“It isn’t so bad now is it?” Trudy asked.
And it wasn’t, for the entrance was quite small but the actual tunnel was more spacious.
“No, no it isn’t.” Claire called back.
And a chorus of hurrahs echoed through the passageway. Claire smiled as she crawled on her hands and knees to the kitchen. She hadn’t expected this to be her first academic activity, but was pleased. She felt that she had won the respect of the seemingly popular Judith and her friends, and, as Trudy followed her inside and Claire was certain that she wasn’t being tricked into a trap, she felt as if she had certainly met a kindred spirit there at Beekman Boarding School.


Dear Marvin,
Guess where I am! Beekman Boarding School in Beekman New York! And Mother and Father are in Connecticut all alone with you at the university in New Haven like a real man! The school is nice. I haven’t had a very good look at the outside yet but the inside is decently decorated in medieval trinkets and tapestries. And after a personal tour with a fine girl named Trudy Richards, I have discovered that there is much more to Beekman than meets the eye. There are secret passageways Marvin! Just like we used to play, only at home it was the wood box from the mudroom to the parlor, and here they are real! And Trudy (in whom I have already put my trust) promises that I haven’t seen half the great nooks and crannies there are to see. A kind woman named Mrs. Inches showed us all of the classrooms and the cafeteria etc. (not to mention a real dungeon, now converted into a sewing room which Mother would adore) and promised to introduce us to the headmistress; Mrs. Victory; but it was nearly time for dinner and she couldn’t be reached. I think she will be a very busy and possibly sour woman. Don’t tell Father that I am jumping to conclusions. And what a dinner it was though! You would’ve loved it Marvin. I honestly felt like royalty when the set the ducks out on the tables and lit the torches (this place is practically a castle you know) and we all held hands like sisters and sang a beautiful grace before indulging in one of the finest Sunday meals ever prepared! I think I shall really like it here. There are only two things: classes and Malvina Dakota-a nasty girl whom I’ve already picked a fight with. Aside from that, I think that this place is perfect. But, being the “snoop” as you say, I have already noted a few mysteries which I plan to solve.
1. A mysterious teacher named Clifford Rueben who keeps trees and voodoo masks in his classroom.
2. Mrs. Victory…will she be merciful?
3. Boys. Nobody has spoken of the other half of Beekman-the boy half. I don’t even know if they will be in my classes or eat lunch with us during the week.
Anyway, these are the mysteries. I am half asleep already so I really should go. Write to me! Love, your sister, Claire the snoop Winters

Chapter 3

A diamond in the rough


“Now everyone to their rooms!” Mrs. Inches declared. “It may be the weekend but we have dinner in forty minutes!”
So everyone vanished behind wooden doors. Claire followed Trudy into the door marked with 22 in gold letters and didn’t bother to glance back at Malvina.
Claire shut the door and then turned around. The room was charming!
There was a wardrobe on the left with a mirror on the front. Then, just past the wardrobe on the back wall was a little square window whose pane could slide up and was slid up at that moment. A breeze blew the baby blue curtains. Under the window was a little bureau with six drawers. Then, beside that was a bed with the back to the back wall. And then there was another little bed whose head met the first bed, foot to head, making a backwards L. On the floor was a yellow rug like a moon smiling up from under your feet.
“The bed at the back wall is mine and the bed on the front wall will be yours. Don’t worry, you won’t be able to hear much action in the hallway, these ancient walls are solid through and through.” Trudy said suddenly.
“Thank you.” Was all Claire could think to say.
“Well,” Trudy said uncomfortably. “How was your trip from Connecticut?”
Claire sat down on her new bed.
“It was nice, thank you. The train ride was enjoyable and the tour with Mrs. Inches was very helpful.”
Trudy raised her eyebrows. “Oh that tour!” She said with a huff.
“What?” Claire asked. “I found it very interesting.”
“Yes,” Trudy said. “That’s just it. This place is interesting but they only think to show you the boring stuff.”
Claire smiled. “Really?”
Trudy nodded confidently. “Oh well,” She then said. “Now I get to show it to you.”
And when she said this, Claire felt as if she had a friend.
“So where are you from?” Claire asked.
“Massachusetts-” Trudy said. “On a farm.”
Claire thought that farms were fascinating. She had never been to a farm, much less lived on one but loved books about farm girls falling in love with farm boys and that sort of thing.
“Wow, it must be lovely.” Claire flattered.
“Not entirely.” Trudy said as she too sat on a bed. “It’s a little farm and still it is a lot of work. We’re always busy milking the cow and gathering eggs and chopping wood and rocking the baby and cooking and sewing or even hunting rabbits.” Trudy said.
Claire was wide-eyed. “How many siblings do you have?” She asked.
“Eight,” Trudy said. “Not including me or the baby due this summer.”
Claire, with just on older brother, felt like she had met some kind of alien.
“How does your mother manage?” Claire blurted out.
Trudy laughed. “It’s never easy and sometimes it is really hard. My father works the land all year long and still, the prices are going down at market. And still, mother is having more babies. That’s why it is such a miracle that I am going to school at all-especially Beekman. And my being here will help my family I hope, seeing as they won’t have to feed me or wash my clothes while I’m gone.”
Claire looked down at her new shoes. She felt a little selfish. She didn’t have any idea how much her parents were paying for her tuition. She had never thought to ask.
“That’s very good,” Claire said. “I am glad you’re here, or else I may be roommates with Malvina!”
And Trudy laughed again, loudly and proudly, for she had already picked out this girl whose name almost rhymed, as a bad apple.
“Well, you’re lucky Claire,” Trudy said after the laughing spell was over. “You get to have Sunday Dinner as your first dinner at Beekman.”
“Is it very good?” Claire asked.
“It is delicious! Roasted duck!” She announced.
Claire’s mouth watered at the words.
“Let’s go get your things and look around before dinner,” Trudy said looking at the clock. “We have only twenty minutes before that bell rings again so we best go right away.”
So it happened that the two youth crept out of their rooms and down the staircase.
“How long have you been at Beekman?” Claire asked.
“Six months.” Trudy said, quite sure of herself. “I came half way through last year. They let you take half the classes if you can’t put down the entire tuition. It was difficult at first because I was the only one who hadn’t already made friends, but now I really like it. I feel very lucky to be here.”
Claire smiled as she picked up her carpet bag. “Let me put these things upstairs and then I’ll come on your tour.” She said.
So they piled Claire’s things onto the moon rug, Claire announced that she would get “all settled in” later and they slipped out again.
“First…” Trudy said, skipping down three steps at a time. “To the laundry room!”
Claire suddenly felt a little less excited. She had already been wondering what could be more exciting than a real dungeon, and now she was being led to the laundry room of all places? “Right this way…” Trudy said grinning. “Through this door.”
They walked into a swinging door near the front door. “Hello girls!” Trudy said casually, for there over a steaming tub of laundry were three girls, one of which was Judith.
“Hi Tru!” They said in unison. But they didn’t look up, for they were each sitting on a stool with their heads back and on their eyes were slices of cucumber.
“You see Claire,” Trudy said, putting a hand out to welcome her inside. “This is the spa. We are quite resourceful aren’t we ladies?”
And there was a general murmur of “You bet!”
Claire couldn’t help but smile again. She thought that she would really like these girls.
“And Jacqueline here supplies our cream.” Judith said, pointing a thumb to the brunette girl on her left.
“Smells nice.” Claire noted.
“And are you wondering where we go from here?” Trudy asked.
Claire nodded anxiously.
“You’ll never guess!” And with these words she pushed aside an ironing table and pushed at a panel of wood. It pushed open easily to what looked like a black hole. “This is the laundry room-kitchen tunnel nicknamed The Missing Maid.”
Then, in a moment of horror, Claire realized that Trudy expected her to crawl inside!
“I can’t go in there!” Claire protested. “It is so small and dark…I will surely get stuck and die!”
But all the girls laughed at this.
“You get used to it sweetie!” Judith said from her stool.
“If Mabel can squeeze through, so can you!” Trudy said with a wink.
So Claire said a silent prayer and crawled into the hole as Judith, Jacqueline and the third girl, whose name was Marie, removed their cucumbers and watched with interest.
“It isn’t so bad now is it?” Trudy asked.
And it wasn’t, for the entrance was quite small but the actual tunnel was more spacious.
“No, no it isn’t.” Claire called back.
And a chorus of hurrahs echoed through the passageway. Claire smiled as she crawled on her hands and knees to the kitchen. She hadn’t expected this to be her first academic activity, but was pleased. She felt that she had won the respect of the seemingly popular Judith and her friends, and, as Trudy followed her inside and Claire was certain that she wasn’t being tricked into a trap, she felt as if she had certainly met a kindred spirit there at Beekman Boarding School.


Dear Marvin,
Guess where I am! Beekman Boarding School in Beekman New York! And Mother and Father are in Connecticut all alone with you at the university in New Haven like a real man! The school is nice. I haven’t had a very good look at the outside yet but the inside is decently decorated in medieval trinkets and tapestries. And after a personal tour with a fine girl named Trudy Richards, I have discovered that there is much more to Beekman than meets the eye. There are secret passageways Marvin! Just like we used to play, only at home it was the wood box from the mudroom to the parlor, and here they are real! And Trudy (in whom I have already put my trust) promises that I haven’t seen half the great nooks and crannies there are to see. A kind woman named Mrs. Inches showed us all of the classrooms and the cafeteria and the other usual places (not to mention a real dungeon, now converted into a sewing room which Mother would adore) and promised to introduce us to the headmistress; Mrs. Victory; but it was nearly time for dinner and she couldn’t be reached. I think she will be a very busy and possibly sour woman. Don’t tell Father that I am jumping to conclusions. And what a dinner it was though! You would’ve loved it Marvin. I honestly felt like royalty when the set the ducks out on the tables and lit the torches (this place is practically a castle you know) and we all held hands like sisters and sang a beautiful grace before indulging in one of the finest Sunday meals ever prepared! I think I shall really like it here. There are only two things: classes and Malvina Dakota-a nasty girl whom I’ve already picked a fight with. Aside from that, I think that this place is perfect. But, being the “snoop” as you say, I have already noted a few mysteries which I plan to solve.
A mysterious teacher named Clifford Rueben who keeps trees and voodoo masks in his classroom.
Ms. Victory…will she be merciful?
Boys. Nobody has spoken of the other half of Beekman-the boy half. I don’t even know if they will be in my classes or eat lunch with us during the week.
Anyway, these are the mysteries. I am half asleep already so I really should go. Write to me! Love, your sister, Claire the snoop Winters

Steam Engine

Introduction and Chapters 1 and 2

Introduction

Claire Winters felt quite pretty as she rode the train. She was taking it from the familiar Connecticut station to Beekman, New York. Once she arrived she would ride from the station to Beekman Boarding School and walk right in the door as if she had done it a thousand times. She moved her lips, reciting something she wanted to be sure not to forget: “Girls’ side is on the right from the front.” Even as she said it, she couldn’t help imagining herself walking into the boys’ side of the school and a butterfly tried to escape the prison of her stomach where it had nested for some time now. She shook her head and with it the dreadful thought. She instead imagined herself in a cosey dormitory room, writing to Cybil, her friend from Connecticut. But Cybil couldn’t be relied on to write back every week, seeing as she was busy with her own school and piano and her job at the seamstress and, quite often, forgetting things which she was asked to do. Claire’s heart sunk a little. She knew that her future was sure to be lonesome. How long would it take her to find another kindred spirit in New York? She couldn’t know yet. Claire then decided to look at the Beekman Pamphlet once more. But, as she pulled it from the inside pocket of her jacket, a sign rolled past her window and caught her eye. “Welcome to Duchess County” it read. Claire glanced down at the creased pamphlet in her hands. Beekman was in Duchess County! She straightened her new clothes and hat which had been her going-away-present and grinned. Soon the adventure of boarding school would begin! Claire flipped to the back of the pamphlet for the umpteenth time to see the sketch of the school’s main building. It was made up of two oblong structures which had curved corners like loaves of bread, connected by a center corridor. The whole building was made of stone (though Claire couldn’t be sure of the color for it was only a sketch) and had cathedral style windows which arched. Claire thought it looked very much like a castle and had dreamt a night ago that she had arrived to find that her bedroom was in a tower and that there were turrets along the corridor and even a dungeon for detention. She smiled at the memory of the dream and tried to think more sensibly before arriving and making a childish fool of herself.
“Excuse me,” Said a voice from across the isle. Claire started at the sound.
“Is that a Beekman Boarding School pamphlet you’re looking at?’
Claire turned to see a girl about her own age (which was, at that time, fifteen) with a bright smile and laughing eyes. She had curled auburn hair and a pretty face. Her clothes were of the latest style.
“Why yes,” Claire said, speaking less awkwardly than she had expected she would. “Are you headed there as well?’
“Yes I am. My name is Malvina Dakota, and you?” The pretty girl stuck out her hand.
But poor Claire could hardly regain her composure enough to shake it. Malvina Dakota?
Claire thought. What a horrid name! For it was true, it was like a poorly written poem, almost rhyming but not quite.
“Very pleased to meet you,” Claire lied. “My name is Claire Winters.”
But Claire knew from that moment that she had found her first reason to dislike Beekman Boarding School.

Chapter 1

The Argument

“What a quaint name.” Malvina said with a smirk. Claire couldn’t tell if she was making fun or a genuine compliment.
“Thank you,” Claire said. “Claire was my godmother’s name.”
Malvina nodded as if interested.
“My mother chose my name because she thought it was so pretty, it would almost suit the pretty face she knew I’d have!” Malvina said. “And she was right!”
At this Malvina laughed at her joke, but Claire wondered if she were really joking at all.
“Is this your first year at Beekman?” Claire asked, obviously wanting to change the subject. “Yes, I am very excited.” Malvina said, still showing her straight white teeth in a grin.
“Mine too,” Claire said meekly. “I hope we like it.” She then blushed, feeling as if she had revealed a personal secret or a worry from the depths of her heart.
“Oh, don’t be nervous dear, my mother went to Beekman and she’s told me everything there is to know. She adored it and I know I will.”
Claire felt suddenly small and babyish. Malvina really seemed to know where she was at. Miss Dakota sat up straight in her red train seat with a tall feathery hat, tight, flattering dress and high heels. She had an amethyst ring and an expensive looking broach. Her dress looked as if it were out of a magazine. And everything matched perfectly, showing that she only wore that jewelry, shoes and hat with that particular dress. But Claire was happy with the dress her mother and father had given her that morning as a going-away-present. It wasn’t tight and uncomfortable, but she looked her age. Her hat was plain but sweet and her gloves had been made especially for her hands, which was something to be proud of, Claire thought. But before Malvina could make anymore small talk, the whistle blew and the train lurched to stop at Beekman Station.
Claire seemed to be carried off the train by a current of people and swept through the station in a whirlwind. Everything moved so quickly, so efficiently that she hardly had time to look around her before she was outside the station and being lifted into a buggy. Malvina hopped in beside her, as they were headed to the same place, and began to powder her nose.
“That place is so busy! So hectic and yet so organized.” Said Claire, referring to the train station.
“Like clockwork!” Malvina said, not looking up from her powder mirror. “You’d think it had been functioning for the whole two million or so years this planet has been spinning!” Claire frowned.
“Two million?” She said, not meaning to argue. “It’s only 1886.”
Malvina snapped her powder shut and dropped it into her handbag.
“Ever heard of Charles Darwin?” Malvina asked, once again looking quite superior.
Claire nodded.
“The scientist?” She asked.
Malvina nodded.
“Of course the scientist. My father read his book: ‘On the origin of species’, and after Daddy finished he said that Mr. Darwin was right and that this world suddenly appeared after a big explosion thing in the sky…and it all happened millions of years ago. You can’t possibly believe that all this…” (Malvina motioned out the window with a gloved hand.) “Happened in a mere 1886 years!” She laughed once again, still unfathomably, making Claire wonder if she was laughing at her or just laughing.
“I don’t believe in that sort of thing.” Claire said boldly. Malvina seemed to take it as a bold thing to say, but inside, Claire’s stomach was churning at the sound of her own stated disagreement.
“You don’t? Well, someday when you go to a university, you’ll read all about it and understand what I’m talking about. Then maybe you’ll come to your senses.” She glanced out the window to avoid Claire’s gaze.
“Come to my senses? I know what I believe. You don’t even care if what you believe is true or not, as long as it’s fashionable! My father went to seminary and my mother was a reverend’s daughter. We take the bible very seriously, as the truth. The word says that our Heavenly Father created this world and there’s nothing that could convince me otherwise!”
With this last blow, Claire let out a great sigh, wiped the perspiration from her brow and turned all the way around to watch the trees pass by her own window, leaving Malvina Dakota staring. Her mouth was dropped open and her pride stamped out. Claire wouldn’t dare turn around, for her nose was pink and her eyes watery and she would kill herself if Malvina saw her crying.
“You old-fashioned, close-minded, senseless, barn-born hillbilly!” Malvina screamed. But apparently, thinking up this lengthy insult had used up all her brain-power, and without anything else to say, Malvina put her back to Claire’s and sulked.

The rest of the trip was quite awkward, full of spite and regret (the spite being Malvina’s and the regret being Claire’s.) But somehow, Claire felt herself in the right, for she had stood up for what she believed in. But on the other hand, would she ever survive a semester at Beekman with a girl whom she offended before ever even arriving? Then, a horrible idea entered Claire’s mind, one that Malvina had worried about already: what if the two of them were roommates? Claire’s one butterfly had apparently multiplied, for her whole stomach fluttered, her cheeks flushed and she wished to see her mother. Malvina couldn’t wait to write her parents and tell them all about what had happened. She hoped Claire would be expelled somehow. “Beekman Boarding School!” The driver yelled over his shoulder. Both girls jumped out of their brown studies. “Thank you.” Said Claire, handing the man his fee. Malvina jumped out of the buggy and ordered him to carry her things in before she would ever open her coin purse. Claire could’ve thrown a temper tantrum at this, but held her horses and kept cool. The friendly driver carried Claire’s things to the door also. “The building on the RIGHT.” Claire pointed out. But in a flash the driver was gone, well paid and tired. Claire picked up a parcel to go inside, but the grand door opened up before she could touch the handle.
“Welcome, ladies, to Beekman Boarding School-girls’ branch.” Said a cheery, middle aged woman.
“Thank you! My name is Malvina Dakota.” Said Malvina.
The woman smiled gaily and nodded to Malvina. “Pleased to meet you Miss Dakota, I am Yvette Inches, and I am in charge of the girls’ wing of this lovely school. I’ll introduce you to the headmistress; Mrs. Opal Victory; momentarily and perhaps we’ll run into Mr. Gregory Crow-he’s in charge of the boys’ wing.” She said all this in one breath.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Inches, what a quaint name.” Said Malvina in the exact tone she had used when she “complimented” Claire’s name.
“Yes nice to meet you.” Claire said shyly.
“But never mind me,” Mrs. Inches said briskly. “What’s your name ma’am?” She asked looking at Claire again.
“Claire Winters.” She said politely.
Mrs. Inches’ eyebrows rose.
“Ah!” She said. “So you’re the girl everyone’s been waiting for. Tell Governor Winters I said hello, or you’d just call him ‘Daddy’ I suppose.”
Malvina nearly swooned then and there on the step. Claire was the daughter of the governor of Connecticut? How could she have been so stupid?
Claire smiled inwardly and stepped inside with her things, arm-in-arm with Mrs. Inches, listening to every detail of the school and its ways. Malvina lagged behind feeling very much like an “old-fashioned, close-minded, senseless, barn-born hillbilly.”

Chapter 2

Beekman Boarding School

The girls’ wing of Beekman Boarding School was much larger than Claire had estimated. Inside, the halls wound about curved angles like strokes of a paintbrush. There were bookshelves locked behind glass, full of thick volumes on science, philosophy and history. There were windows every ten feet or so with no glass at all, only elegant iron bars.
“These halls are awful narrow.” Malvina said pessimistically.
Mrs. Inches ignored her.
“In just a moment we’ll arrive at the classrooms…the sleeping quarters will be saved for last.” And just as she spoke, the narrow hallway which Claire had found so castle-like, opened up into a wider, more modern looking hallway which ran perpendicularly to the last hall. This one had no windows. On one wall of the hall were framed paintings and silvery photographs of important looking people, and on the other side were doors. Mrs. Inches opened the first one.
“I do believe both of you will be in this class.” Mrs. Inches said. “This is Mr. Maboni’s algebra class.”
Claire couldn’t help but look a bit disgusted. She despised algebra and nearly failed her tests. Malvina stepped inside and looked around. Claire followed. The walls were white and the chairs were navy blue. The chalkboard was clean and desks shiny.
“Mr. Maboni is very organized.” Mrs. Inches explained. “He has the students arranged by their birthdates. For example, if you were born in January, you will sit nearest the teacher, and those born on the twelfth month go all the way to the back row.”
“When was your birthday?” Malvina asked desperately.
“November.” Claire offered. Malvina sighed in relief.
“Good,” She said. “Mine was February.”
Mrs. Inches didn’t seem to catch onto the fact that Malvina didn’t like Claire, but kept on chatting like a machine.
“Come on out ladies, this next classroom is Miss Loraine Peg’s.” So the girls went from room to room, trying to understand their future teachers’ personalities through their classrooms. The most common consensus was that the teacher had very little personality at all. One would have a wreath on the door, the other a map on the wall, but mostly the rooms all looked alike. That is, until they came to the classroom kept by Mr. Clifford Rueben.
“Mr. Rueben is your History teacher.” Mrs. Inches said as she opened the door.
On the walls were many sketches of many different people. Just glancing, Claire read a few of their titles: Socrates, Da Vinci, Shakespeare and John the Baptist. But her attention was then whisked away when Malvina said: “Look-it!”
And Claire looked to see an entire dead tree, bony and grey, leaning against the back wall. On it were dozens of tiny envelopes tied with ribbons to the branches.
“Mr. Rueben has his pupils write down all of their accomplishments and put it on that tree.” Mrs. Inches said.
“Whatever for?” Claire asked, almost raising her voice.
“You’re going to have to ask Mr. Rueben about that.” She answered.
Then Claire’s eyes fell on the chairs. Each was painted a different color, teal, maroon, grey, magenta or orange-any color under the sun! And on the desks were carefully printed names: Allen Jacobs, Trudy Richards, Lucille Light, Freddie Coins.
“How in the world did he get that in there?” Malvina asked.
But Claire was already too distracted with something else to respond.
“Oh! My heart nearly stopped!” She said when she turned around, for there on the next wall was an array of African masks.
“How hideous!” Malvina added. “Those give me the heebie-jeebies.”
But also on that wall were drawings of strange huts, colorful feathers, and prints of huge mushrooms in colorful ink, dried jungle flowers pasted to paper and things written in ancient languages.
“What kind of a teacher…” Malvina began, but Mrs. Inches interrupted her.
“This room gives me the heebie-jeebies too…let’s go ladies.”
They practically peeled Claire away from the fascinating room. She secretly hoped that she could sneak in later and get a better look, but she worried about meeting Mr. Rueben himself, he could prove to be quite a kook, Claire thought.
“He’s a real good man,” Mrs. Inches said in the hallway as if reading Claire’s mind. “But he is also very strange…and mysterious. Anyway, let’s not gossip ladies, it is time to see the rest of Beekman!”
So they picked up the pace and followed Mrs. Inches down a spiral staircase. It was made out of the same iron that the windows were barred with.
“We’re underground!” Said Claire excitedly.
Here comes the dungeon. She thought to herself.
“I am sure glad we left our things in the entry hall.” Malvina said.
Claire thought this was the most positive thing she had heard Malvina say since their argument.
“Yes ladies,” Mrs. Inches said. “We are now underground! This building is ancient. It used to be an abbey and the myth is that there are many hidden passages throughout it; some even say there is treasure in them. But what do you think this room used to be?”
“The meat cellar?” Asked Malvina dully.
“No,” Mrs. Inches said on the last step. “This was their dungeon. This building used to be the only building for miles and miles and the monks rarely ever left, so if their were ever burglars or any kind of criminal among them, they had to have some place to keep them until they could be dealt with in the village, so they’d lock them up in here just like a brig of a ship.”
There in the dark, Claire’s face beamed so, that it seemed she would light up the whole room. A real dungeon! How adventurous!
Mrs. Inches lit a torch and then another and another along the wall.
“This,” She said with a smile. “Is the sewing room.”
And the girls could see fifteen or so tables with singer sewing machines on them, their necks bowing like graceful swans. There were cosey rugs under each table and shelves on the walls with neatly organized threads, laces, needles and thimbles of every kind. There was also a row of narrow windows at the top of the wall for more light and little candle sticks at the end of each table. Claire, who had never liked nor disliked sewing before, now felt that she could sew dress for every girl at Beekman if they’d only give her a chance!
“How divine!” Claire uttered under her breath.
They blew out the torches and went up stairs again. They walked outside to a building in the back which couldn’t be seen from the front, or in the pamphlet. It was the cafeteria and Claire tried to imagine eating every meal there for the next year. It was nice enough, but it wouldn’t be enjoyable at all if Claire didn’t find a “kindred spirit” quickly. But her hopes were lifted when she saw the menu posted on the wall. She didn’t get to finish reading it before Malvina was ready to see the next room, but she did see “Rosemary Potato Soup” for Tuesday and this was one of her favorites. Then they went to courtyard which was a walled area near the cafeteria for playing.
“The toys and exercise equipment is all put away right now,” Mrs. Inches said. “But I will tell you that there are jump ropes and balls and bicycles galore!”
Finally, they went back into the main building to see the dormitory. This time, instead of going underground they went to a second story. This story was an oval shaped area with a hole in the middle of the floor looking into the entry hall. There was a polished pine rail around it. The walls were all paneled wood too and in them there were thirty doors from which many giggles and chitchat rippled. Claire glanced over the rail and looked at her luggage. There were new bags and boxes along with hers and Malvina’s.
“Yes,” Mrs. Inches said. “Three other girls have arrived since you have and are currently on the tour.”
Then she reached up without warning to a big brass bell which neither girl had noticed before and rang it vigorously. In a moment, all thirty doors had opened and closed and about fifty girls stood around the rail with blue dresses and white aprons in almost perfect order.
“Thank you for making haste ladies,” Mrs. Inches said soberly. “I wanted to introduce you to two new students.”
All of the girls looked at Claire and Malvina as if surveying their worth. Some of them smiled, others looked too proud.
“This is Malvina Dakota and this is Claire Winters.” Mrs. Inches said after a moment.
A girl with black curls, who looked like she was sixteen or so, raised her hand.
“Yes Judith?” Mrs. Inches asked.
“Is Claire related to Governor Winters?” She asked curiously.
A few girls snickered as if this were a ridiculous question.
“Yes she is Judith! Very good. You’ve been studying for your government test haven’t you?”
Judith nodded and blushed but Claire was positively crimson!
“This is the daughter of the governor of Connecticut ladies.” Mrs. Inches announced.
There were “oohs” and “ahs” until Mrs. Inches spoke again:
“Anyway, Claire you’ll be boarding in room 22 with Trudy Richards. Trudy-please come introduce yourself.”
A girl stepped forward and walked shyly toward the nervous Claire, still pink in the cheeks. Trudy had rusty red-brown hair in thick waves running over her shoulders, a few dark freckles over her nose and cheeks and big dark eyes. Claire thought her quite pretty indeed. “Hello Claire,” Trudy said. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And Malvina,” Mrs. Inches said. “You’ll be boarding in room 14 with Mabel Harris.”
And a plump girl of thirteen stepped forward. “Hullo Malvina! Howdy-do?”