Civil War Medicine Distributor

Chapter 10 Part 1

Beekman Astir

Claire rather enjoyed her trip back to school until the conversation died down on the last leg of the journey and she began to think about what she would say to Ms. Victory and her parents and all of the questions that the students were bound to ask.
Seeing her anxious frown, Emit said:
“Do you want me to take the long way around?”
Claire gave him a worried smile and said “no.”
She had no choice but to face her punishments and she preferred to have them over with as soon as possible.
“Here we are,” Emit said. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?”
Claire was surprised that country boys even knew about this custom, but as sweet as it sounded, she refused.
“No, somehow I think that you would only worsen things. I mean, not you personally, but the idea of you. Anyway, thank you very much for your hospitality and thank your mother too. I wish I had some money or something to repay her with…” Claire said, fumbling through her pockets.
“That isn’t necessary.” Emit said hastily.
“Well,” Claire said shrugging. “Would she like a wooden jewelry box?”
Emit grinned. “She may.” He answered smugly.
“Then please give this to her with my sincere thanks.” Claire said, handing over the box so generously, she almost looked glad not to have it.
It did have mixed memories after all.
“Good luck!” Emit said cheerfully.
“Thank you!” Claire called over her shoulder as she hopped off her seat and approached the gate. She looked back once to see him ride away and she thought about what a merry place he would soon arrive at and what a grim one she was walking into. Then she chided herself, remembering Mr. Dawson, and pushed the gate open.
Normally the front courtyard was totally bare without even so much as a gardener, but as Claire pushed the gate open, she saw a whole congregation of people standing stock still in front of the girl’s wing and staring coldly at her.
At least the tall, slender figure in the middle of them all was staring coldly.
Claire had the strange feeling that Ms. Victory was going to lead a stampede of students to trample her before she even reached the doors which they were so solidly blocking.
It seemed minutes before Claire could walk into the courtyard, push the gate closed again and latch it before turning to face her peers and teachers and, most of all, Headmistress.
“Good morning Ms. Victory.” Claire said with a bowed head. She was careful to check that it was still morning.
“I suppose you have had a good morning, gallivanting around the countryside with a strange man! Spending last night at his house! Running away from your boarding school without so much as leaving a note so that we could know that you weren’t kidnapped!”
Heat rose up Claire’s neck and onto her face.
“No Ms. Victory! It wasn’t anything of that sort…” She protested.
“Shut your mouth little girl!” Ms. Victory snapped, her bony finger pointing at Claire like a distant spear. “Do not speak to me that way! Do not try to contradict what I am saying! You have no right to voice your untrustworthy opinion to me! Now! I don’t need to know why you committed the sins which you have, it is irrelevant. I already know everything I need to which is what you have so cruelly done to us. Now all you are expected to do, since obeying is so difficult for you, is to go to your bedroom and sit on your bed. You will find that your door will be locked behind you. I am telephoning your parents immediately.”
Claire’s eye trailed along the faces of her peers and then she pushed through them, meeting no eyes and tried not to hear their murmurings.

Time passed like molasses in December. Claire, who hadn’t had dinner the night before or breakfast or lunch that day, was agonizingly hungry. She was also exhausted, so after thinking about everything which had happened in the past two days and listening to the clank of the other students luncheon plates and forks for a few minutes, Claire got in bed and went to sleep. When she woke up again it was to a rattling noise. The room was dark, but as Claire sat up, she could see the gleam of her brass door knob, twisting and shaking. After a moment it stopped and the door opened. In stepped Trudy and Judith and Marie and Jacqueline and a dozen or so other girls.
“Hullo Claire!” They were all saying in scratchy whispers. And “There you are!” and “We’ve missed you so!”
They were all grins and whispers but Claire was quite overwhelmed, still twisted in her covers.
They all filed by and gave her a hug-even Judith Appleby who had seemed so hateful a day ago-as if Claire were some dear old bedridden aunt.
Then they all took to petting her hair and sitting all over her bed and smiling at her in a way that Claire defined as either pity or jealousy but couldn’t tell which.
“Well?” Judith said, handing Claire a roll and a peach. “Aren’t you going to tell us about your adventure? All that Mrs. Dawson said on the telephone was that you were on the way over with her son and that he; the boy; had seen you faint and brought you home where you spent the night. Oh Claire! Do tell us right off! You wouldn’t believe the serious sort of constables that came and interviewed us all! And after having to tell them of the argument, we all began to cry and miss you and wish that we had been nicer to you before you ran away. I felt sure that I was the cause of your rebellion, what else could set such a good girl on the wrong path but the betrayal of a friend? And we’ve all made up about the whole ordeal and want to tell you that we’re sincerely sorry and love you like a sister and want to know every detail of your escapade now that you’re home safely!”
Claire, wide-eyed, had already bitten into the forbidden dinner, and was staring at Trudy in shock.
“Please Judith, it wasn’t like that at all…” Claire began.
“Oh Claire!” Judith cut in. “We know that you didn’t do anything sinful with that boy, but now we at least know that you have a romantic side after all.” She said with a wink.
“No! I mean, this isn’t about romance at all. I didn’t run away, I am not in love with Emit and…”
“Emit?” Jacqueline asked. “Is that the boy’s name? It is plain but will have to do! I am sure he’s perfectly charming Claire!”
“Yes-I mean no.” Claire stumbled over her words and handed her peach and roll back to Trudy. “Yes his name was Emit but I don’t even know him and am not in love with him! I swear I wasn’t trying to run away!” She said, raising her voice.
“Please Claire!” Trudy said. “The girls are supposed to be in their own rooms. Don’t give them away. Now what do you mean you didn’t run away? Are you saying that Emit kidnapped you?”
A wave of excitement went over the girls.
“No! Not at all!” Claire said very frustrated. She got out of bed and stood on the floor to address the girls more authoritatively. “I left the school to run to the field and return in a matter of minutes, but I became ill again like I did the other morning and fainted on the pathway…”
“Wait a moment,” Marie interrupted. “I don’t understand-why were you going in the first place if it wasn’t to meet Emit?”
“I was going…I was going to release Cyrano.” Claire said seriously.
All of the girls gasped and looked at each other for comfort.
“Did you? Did you let him go Claire?” One girl asked desperately.
Claire nodded and the girls gasped again.
“Claire!” They were all saying at once. “You didn’t have to! We didn’t mean it!”
And they were all sobbing again.
Claire felt suddenly frustrated and disgusted.
“Of course I had to!” She said, her eyes darting from one girl to another. “It was dishonest to keep him a secret. It was disobedient.” Her eyes were fiery.
“But Claire, we were only being nit-picky because you were giving us a hard time. Even though you were arguing with Judith, you always make the rest of us feel bad about things we do. We didn’t really mean it Claire…we all loved Cyrano. He was like our mascot.” Jacqueline said.
She looked at Claire almost as if she were angry all over again for obeying.
“I loved Cyrano too…I loved having a pet just as much as you did. But this isn’t really about a mouse is it? It is about truthfulness and deceit.”
A few girls sighed, one even rolled her eyes.
“Don’t start that again Claire.” Marie said. “We were all trying to be friends again…we all had the best intentions when we came in here tonight. We wanted to hear of your adventures. We thought that finally we could relate to you, that you sometimes disobey too, but no! All we get is another sermon.” And Marie stood up and left the room.
A few girls followed suit.
“Please Trudy, you understand don’t you? Help me explain!” Claire pleaded.
“We can’t all be as perfect as you Claire,” Trudy said. “But I can’t help but say that I know you must sometimes sin or fail. And if you lead us on this way, hiding whatever it is you do, than you are just as deceitful as you convict us all to be.”
Claire paused, mouth open, for a moment.
“Trudy, you know I am not claiming to be perfect! I am not convicting you either. You asked me for help and I said what I believed. I was keeping a secret, but I rid myself of it now…”
But before Claire could finish her sentence, there was a loud startling noise which tossed each of their stomachs into a flip. The bell!
Five rings and then silence, Ms. Inches’ face appearing in the doorway like a gargoyle.
“What is the meaning of this Miss Winters?” She asked sternly.
“I am sorry Ms. Inches.” She said, her head drooping.
“Everyone out!” Mrs. Inches barked, more fiercely than anyone expected.
The girls scurried out rapidly, leaving only Trudy and Claire wearing their nightgowns and ashamed faces.
“I brought the girls in.” Trudy admitted when the door closed. “I am sorry too.”
Ms. Inches still looked frightful.
“Miss Winters,” She spoke very slowly. “Ms. Victory decided not to telephone your parents. She decided to simply wait until your report card arrived and then let them call us, wondering why on earth their star student had a string of zeros in every class.”
Claire bit her lip and stared at the floor. This was a painful message.
“I am sorry Ms. Inches. I am very, very sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused you and Ms. Victory, my teachers, peers and parents.” Claire offered bravely.
“Don’t you have any explanation?” Ms. Inches snapped. “I understand Trudy slipping up now and then, but you are known for your trustworthiness, and now I am told that you were fighting at recess, ran away from school and spent the night with a strange boy?!”
Claire shook her head, but her tears chose this moment to flow out.
“No ma’am, it wasn’t like that.” She sobbed.
“Then please inform me of which part of your story did Ms. Victory lie to me about!”
Claire sniffed and wiped her eyes, trying to speak in vain.
If she would’ve looked at Trudy, she would’ve seen a very pitiful expression, kind sad eyes gazing in her direction.
“No part Ms. Inches.” She finally whispered.
“Precisely!” Ms. Inches declared coldly. “I understand that we all make mistakes Ms. Winters, but to deny them red-handed is preposterous! Is there anything else I need to know about?”
Claire thought about telling everything. She considered telling about Judith and Tom and Cyrano and the Dawsons but she simply could not. Ms. Inches wouldn’t understand about being a tall red-head or the girlish temptation of hording a secret mouse, or even her inward constitution of honesty which caused her to escape and release this mouse. She wouldn’t understand the struggles she had had with the girls or how much she loved them and pitied them more each time they fought. Ms. Inches wouldn’t understand any of this, so Claire kept silent and shook her head.
Mrs. Inches left saying that Claire was expected to participate in class as usual starting with the first class the next morning and throw out that food at once.

The next morning Claire woke up feeling extremely tired and not at all like getting up and facing the world again.
“Good morning Claire Winters,” Mr. Rueben said as Claire filed by his desk to receive her assignment. He acted as if he hadn’t heard that anything had happened, but along with her assignments Claire also found a note which read:

Niece,

Please meet me in my class room during recess to talk.

Yours, Uncle



For the first time in some time, Claire almost smiled.
All through class Trudy and the other girls pretended to ignore Claire and Pete Jenkins did the complete opposite. He watched her more than he watched Mr. Rueben, studied her more than his book and turned to her to whisper while the other students turned their pages. Claire tried to ignore him and was embarrassed by his conduct, but finally she did lean over and speak to him.
“Pete! Leave me be. You’re going to fail this class.” Was all she said.
Her stomach lurched when she sat back up and caught Mr. Rueben’s gaze, but he said nothing.
Mr. Rueben was talking about The Civil War. Most of the students were “Yankees” but a few were from the south. It had happened only a few decades ago and people were still talking about it. Claire became uncomfortable as she felt tension rising within the classroom. Then, two boys; John Hampton and Luke Rye became angry and began to argue. John’s family had been for The Union and Luke’s for The Confederacy.
Claire became thankful for her long dress that day, seeing as it went all the way to the floor and hid her shaking knees. She was afraid that one of the boys would ask her to “back them up” seeing as she was now included in their political debates. A few other boys joined in, faces beamed red and the backs of necks burned. Fists were clinched and Luke was now standing up at his desk looking down at John. John was raising his voice. A few girls were pale, one clinging to the edge of her seat.
Trudy kept trying to say something, but all she ever got out was: “I think that slaves, I don’t know about you but slaves, slaves were, I think that…” But the boys paid her no heed.
All this time, Mr. Rueben leaned against his desk and smirked, occasionally straightening a stack of papers by tapping them on his the desk or scraping away at a pencil with a pen knife. He looked, as Claire later described him, as cool as well water.
Finally John stood up too and both edged out of their places.
Everyone could feel what was about to happen.
Finally Luke broke the last straw by saying that he hoped his ancestors had killed John’s ancestors during the war. Now, this was a very immature thing to say, but nevertheless, it hit John like a bullet, and in the same way John’s fist hit Luke’s jaw and Luke’s hands grabbed John’s neck and John’s boot kicked Luke’s shin and so on.
After a moment, Judith said: “Mr. Rueben! Do something!”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” He responded.
“They could kill each other!” Was Judith’s panicky reply.
“And then we would have two less troublemakers wouldn’t we?”
Judith gasped and Mr. Rueben continued.
“Most likely, they wouldn’t both be dead so the weaker would be dead and the stronger would learn his lesson by being sent away to some remote prison cell. And then what?”
Judith was on the verge of tears now.
“But their parents!” Said Judith, taking everything very seriously.
“Judith Appleby! They’ve hardly drawn blood!” Mr. Rueben said with a laugh.
And so it was, for though they were knocking into chairs, tearing across the room and rolling on the floor, only Luke’s lip was busted.
“Ah!” Mr. Rueben said in a louder voice, causing the tussle to pause. “Thank you boys for the wonderful example. What we have just witnessed is a civil war. The Beekman Civil War.” And to everyone’s surprise he began to applaud, and the two boys stood up, very red in the face and took their seats again. Judith ran and fetched ice for Luke’s lip and then the class continued as usual. As Claire watched Mr. Rueben talk, she began to think that she had begun this civil war and that the fight between Luke and John wouldn’t be the last battle.