Gone (Michael Bennett 6)

“Trent!” Mary Catherine barked.

“Yes, Mary Catherine?” Trent said, like a nervous miniature recruit about to start marine boot camp.

“Get the girls in here, pronto! They’re part of this. I know they are.”

“Yes, Mary Catherine.”

The girls came into the room sheepishly, followed by a groggy Seamus.

“Now, whose idea was this? Tell me now who organized this little work stoppage.”

Everybody glanced at each other.

“We all did,” Brian said after a moment.

“Oh, you all did? How creative of you. That’s just great. After all I do for the lot of you, you plot behind my back? That’s just a real fine how-do-you-do after the nice meal I cooked for everyone last night. Speaking of which, I have a question for you. Where did that food come from?”

“Mr. Cody,” Eddie said, raising his hand.

“Wrong,” Mary Catherine snapped at him. “Also, you all slept warm in your beds last night under this roof. Where did this house come from?”

“Um, Mr. Cody?” Eddie tried again.

“Wrong again, wise guy,” Mary Catherine said. “Food, houses, everything good that you use in this world, comes from one place: work. Men and women worked to put food on your plate. Men and women worked to put this house together. Now, let me ask you another question. Where would the lot of you be if all those men and women decided to claim that they were sick and sleep in?”

“Up a creek?” Eddie said with a shrug.

“Finally, Eddie, you got one exactly right. Without people working, we’d all be up a certain type of creek without a paddle.”

Mary Catherine circled the room, staring into each of the kids’ faces one by one.

“I think you guys know me pretty well by now. I try to help everyone. Sometimes I even let things slide.”

She stopped in the center of the room.

“But what I will not do, by God, is sit idly by and watch all of you become a lot of lazy, useless ragamuffins. While I live and breathe, you will do three things. You will work. You will help. And you will pitch in. Or I’m out of here. You’ll never see me again. Understand? No work, no food, no house, no nanny. Is that perfectly clear?”

“Yes, Mary Catherine,” a few of them said.

“What? I can’t hear you!” Mary Catherine yelled.

“Yes, Mary Catherine,” everyone said loudly, including me and Seamus.

I stepped back as my young, blond nanny hurried out of the room, her blue eyes sparking. I actually had goose bumps on my arms.

Whoa, Nelly. Talk about a wake-up call!

“Exactly,” I said to the kids after Mary Catherine left. “Exactly what she said, and don’t you ever forget it!”

CHAPTER 17

THE NEXT MORNING, I awoke with a start as my bedroom door creaked open. It was early, I saw, as I glanced with one eye at the still dark-gray window, and someone was out in the hallway.

Something was up. Of course it was. Something was always up.

“Hark! Who goes there?” I said into my pillow. “If it’s you, Mary Catherine, please, no pots and pans this morning. I’ll be up in a second, I swear.”

“Good morning, Michael. Are ye awake?” Seamus whispered.