He laughed again.
"All the girls become equestrians. It's part of their training here," he said.
"I never rode a horse. I never even saw one except under a policeman, in the movies or on television," I said with trepidation.
"Don't worry about it. They have a beginner's class, I'm sure. Only thing is, you'll have to have the right outfit. Maybe Mrs. Hudson took care of that," he mused.
"My mo ... Mrs. Randolph never mentioned it," I said, staring back at the ring as we continued.
"There's the horse barn, the hay barn," Jake pointed out. "On the left are the classrooms. The main building's coming up."
"What's that other big building just past the classrooms?"
"That's the gymnasium and pool."
"Pool? There's a pool in there, too?"
"Didn't nobody tell you anything about this place?" he asked, amazed.
"No. Just that it was a private school for girls."
"Yeah, that it is, and that school across the pond there," he said nodding to the right at an even more prestigious looking stone structure, "is Sweet William, a private school for boys, the brother school, I guess you'd call it, although Sweet William is older. The two schools combine to have dances and to do some activities and they also compete with each other in debates and such: There's the ballfield and that's the cafeteria building," he continued as we turned and passed under a half-moon sign held up by two round posts. The sign read DOGWOOD SCHOOL FOR GIRLS.
School? I thought. This is more like a small city. My eyes felt like they were popping and my head moved like a windshield wiper from side to side as I tried to take in everything at once: the beautiful trees and flowers, the small fountains and the pond, the athletic field and tennis courts, the chapel and a separate building called the Dogwood Theater.
Jake stopped the vehicle in front of the administration building. He got out and quickly opened my door. I hesitated. If I ever felt like turning and running before, I certainly felt it now.
"It'll be fine," Jake said, seeing the anxiety in my face.
go in that door and you'll see someone immediately at a desk on your right who'll help you along."
"How do you know so much about this place, Jake?"
He blinked rapidly for a moment, looked up at the building and said, "I just do."
I stepped out, took a deep breath and started toward the door.
"Good luck, Rain," Jake called. "I'll be here at the end of the day to scoop up what's left of you," he added with a laugh.
"Thanks a lot for the encouragement," I said and he laughed again.
Mama, I thought, as I opened the large glass door, you had no idea, no idea at all.
The lobby had a dark marble floor and a large mural that went to the ceiling. It depicted angels rising toward a heavenly light. On the right, just as Jake said, there was a young woman at a desk and a computer. She turned as I a
pproached.
"My name is Rain Arnold," I said. "I'm here to see Mrs. Whitney?'
She studied me for a moment as if she was the first line of defense, deciding whether to let me take a giant step forward. Her eyes moved across my face, looked over my clothing, and then turned to a folder on her desk.
"Just take this through that door," she said nodding at the door on the left, "and go to the first door on your left. That's Mrs. Whitney's office. Her secretary's name is Susan Hines?'
"Thank you," I said taking the folder.
She returned to her computer so quickly it was as if she were part of it, her fingers plugged in along with the other wires. I started for the door, conscious of how my feet clicked on the marble floor and echoed off the walls of the big lobby. I couldn't imagine it being any cleaner, even the day it had first opened.
The corridor was shorter than I anticipated and Mrs. Whitney's office came up immediately. The outer office wasn't very big or elaborate. Susan Hines was a woman who looked to be about thirty with light brown hair and dark brown eyes that were a little too large for her small face, pug nose and thin mouth. She looked like someone who was in a continuous battle with the calorie monster, buxom and wide in the shoulders, her chin drooping as if she had swallowed a small balloon.