"There it is," Pamela declared. "Agnes Fodor. It doesn't even look like a school, does it?"
I gazed at the large cobblestone building set in a small valley and surrounded by greenery, beautiful trees, and a small pond in the rear. Everything was clean and perfect. And so quiet. She was right. It didn't look like a school. It looked like an old-age home.
I took a deep breath. What Pamela really should have taught me was acting. I was very uneasy. I didn't wear lies well. Surely, anyone who spoke to me would see right through my stories and answers, and then, then, it would be even worse. With a pounding heart and feet that felt as if they were plodding through mud, I entered the new school to become a new person.
5 A Shining Star
With suspicious, cold gray eyes, Mrs. Harper stared across her desk at me. I was quite overwhelmed by the school. The lobby had a mural that reached from the floor to the ceiling. It was a painting of cherubs looking up devoutly at a burning lamp. The marble floors glistened around the sofas, chairs, and tables. A girl of about fifteen greeted us as soon as we entered. She introduced herself as Hiliary Lindsey and told us she was on duty as school receptionist. She carried herself, spoke, and offered her hand to me just the way Pamela had described and instructed me to greet people. As Hiliary led us down the corridor to Mrs. Harper's office, Pamela shifted her eyes to me and gave me a nod and smile as if to say, "That's how you are to behave, see?"
I was even more nervous. The outer office was as neat and spotless as the lobby. Mrs. Harper's secretary, Miss Randall, was a short, buxom,
redhaired woman with strains of gray invading the hair at her temples and the hair at the top of her wide forehead, which formed rows of thick folds when she saw us enter.
Hiliary introduced us to her and then glanced at me to give me a small smile before she left us. Moments later, the inner office door opened, and Mrs. Harper asked us to come in. She was tall with very narrow hips and a small bosom barely visible under her loose, dark blue, ankle-length dress. I couldn't guess her age. Her hair was dark brown, her eyes hazel. She had a very pointed nose and a small mouth. Her cheeks were flat, which made her face seem more narrow, but she had the kind of skin and complexion I knew Pamela admired, not a wrinkle, not even a crease in her forehead.
Everything" on her desk was organized, the dark mahagony looking as polished and clean as everything else I had seen so far. Before her on the desk was a folder with my name on it.
"Agnes Fodor," she began, with her eyes still fixed on me, "is a highly regarded, prestigious, and exceptional institution. My girls all have the highestquality behavior. You will immediately notice vast differences between Agnes Fodor and your average public school," she said. Nothing in her face moved but her small, thin lips.
"For one thing, our classes are very small. We believe in giving the students personalized instruction," she added, turning to Pamela. "For another, our students are all on what we call the honor system. We don't expect our teachers to be concerned with behavioral problems. Everyone knows the rules we live under and respects them. If a girl violates a rule, she confesses her violation. Not that any do," she added quickly. "It is not unusual for a teacher to leave his or her classroom during the administration of an exam. Our girls don't cheat. You will notice that our lockers don't have locks on them. Our girls don't steal. You will notice that our bathrooms are spotless. There are no disgusting cigarette butts in the toilets and sinks. Our girls don't smoke in school, and most don't out of school, either."
"Smoking is the worst thing for your complexion," Pamela said.
Mrs. Harper looked at her almost as hard as she was looking at me for a moment and then turned back to me with a little bounce of her head on her neck. It bobbed like a puppet's head.
"You will notice that there are no pieces of paper, no refuse of any kind on the floors in our classrooms or in our hallways. Our girls don't litter. You will never find gum stuck under chairs. We don't permit the chewing of gum.
"After lunch in our cafeteria, there is very little for the custodian to do. Our girls clean up after themselves, and that even means wiping up the tables if need be.
"During the passing between classes, no one raises her voice. Our girls don't shout to each other. Never, never in the history of Agnes Fodor, has there been any sort of violent behavior. If two girls have a disagreement, they are encouraged to bring it to the judicial committee, which is made up of girls who are elected to the position. We have a very productive and active student government organization, and we have great faith in it. The girls police themselves. If anyone should violate one of our rules, she is brought before a committee of her peers and judged and punished accordingly."
"But I thought no one violated the rules," I said. I really just said it because I was a little confused, but Mrs. Harper's stone eyes suddenly became hot coals. Her face actually blanched, and the veins in her neck stretched until they were embossed under her skin.
"I meant they rarely violate the rules, so rarely that last year, the judicial committee met only twice," she said. "All year long.
"It is," she continued, turning to Pamela, "very unusual for Agnes Fodor to admit a student who hasn't had a history of proper breeding, but given your and your husband's position in the community, we have confidence Brooke will quickly adapt to our high standards."
It started sounding like a compliment and ended up sounding like a threat, I thought. Pamela smiled.
"Oh we're sure of that," she replied.
"Very good," Mrs. Harper said, and opened my folder. She gazed at it a moment and then looked up at me again. "You haven't been exactly what we would call a good student. However, we usually find that our students experience an immediate improvement on their work here. We will expect no less from you, despite your unfortunate background.
"As your mother has requested," she continued, nodding at Pamela, "nothing about your past will leave this office. This folder remains in my files for my eyes only."
"Thank you," Pamela said.
"However," Mrs. Harper continued as if Pamela had not spoken, "you know that I know, and you know what I expect of you. Do you have any questions?"
I shook my head.
She stared, her eyes sweeping over me like tiny spotlights searching for an imperfection. I squirmed in my chair under such intense observation. Finally, she closed my folder and stood up.
"Come with me," she ordered.
I rose and followed.
Pamela stepped up to touch my arm when I reached the door.