Heart of the Wilderness (15 page)
Kendra wasn’t sure what to do. What would the woman do with her now? She didn’t know. Along with her confusion and loneliness a new emotion filled her. Fear. Kendra was quite unaccustomed to fear, but it shook her young body now.
“Come,” said the woman, and she extended her hand. “It’s already too late for you to join your first class. We will get you some soup and bread. But this must not happen again—understand. I am waiving the rule this one time because you did not know where to find the dining room, but in the future we will expect you to be at meals on time. There will be no bowl of soup should this happen again.”
Kendra trembled. She had no intention of missing a meal in the future.
“We will henceforth appoint a classmate, a big sister, to help you get acquainted with the layout of the building.”
There were a few words that Kendra had not understood, but she felt that she knew the woman’s meaning.
She was glad to accept the offered hand and be led to the dining room.
It was not a good start for Kendra. The feelings of being left on her own in an alien environment lingered with her even after she had eaten her bowl of reheated split pea soup and a slice of dark bread. The bread tasted fine, but Kendra didn’t like the soup and wished she could refuse it. But she was hungry, and the lady who sat down opposite her told her that she was to eat. Kendra ate obediently, but she did not enjoy the strange soup and felt her stomach threaten to refuse it on a couple of occasions.
When the bowl was finally empty, Kendra pushed it back with no intention of asking for more.
“Now—we must show you the classroom. We won’t go in. The rule is that one must be on time for class. If students don’t get there before the door closes, they do not get in.”
It seemed to Kendra that there were rather a lot of rules.
Miss Jennings stood up and Kendra stood with her. As soon as the woman took a step, Kendra was at her heels. She was reminded of Oscar, and with the thought came another wave of loneliness. How was Oscar doing without her? Was the dog as lonesome as she?
They walked together down the hall. Kendra heard her unfamiliar shoes clicking against the hard board floors, a strange sensation to be hearing each step. She was used to walking silently except for the possible rustling of dried leaves that had tumbled to the trail.
She missed the sound of the leaves. They whispered to her as she walked through them—not the loud clunk, clunk as did the solid boards.
They came to some steps. These, too, were wooden, and Kendra noted the hollow sound as they thumped their way up the stairs.
Then they traveled down another hall, and Miss Jennings stopped and pointed at the door with one hand and raised the other to put a finger before her lips. Kendra had no plans to utter a sound. She wouldn’t have needed the warning. But with the pointed finger and the quiet “sh-h-,” Kendra did not even dare to breathe.
“This is the classroom you will be attending,” the woman whispered.
Kendra’s eyes grew larger. If there was one redeeming factor about going to school, she felt she would discover it behind this closed door. Her grandfather, Papa Mac, had spoken excitedly about all the things she would get to learn and be able to share with him when she returned to their home at Bent River Crossing. Kendra could hardly wait.
“Since class has already started, you may go to the library,” Miss Jennings went on. “We mustn’t waste precious time. I will give you a reading assignment and expect a report at the end of the normal class time. When rules are disobeyed we give library assignments. This is your first day and there seems to be some excuse for your failure to follow orders—but we cannot set new precedents. The other girls will expect to see you studying—not loafing.”
Kendra had no idea what the library was. She did understand that she was going there as a result of her failure to obey instructions, so the library must be a place of punishment.
Dejectedly she followed the woman. They traveled the hall and Miss Jennings pushed open a large wooden door with a word on it that said “Library.”
“Remember the rule,” spoke the woman before they entered. “There is to be no talking in the library. Any communication with the librarian must be written clearly on a slip of paper and handed to her in silence.”
More rules. Kendra began to wonder if there was ever an end to them.
Miss Jennings stepped in and Kendra followed. She had expected a horrid place—one of some kind of wicked torture, but instead what she saw was a room with shelves and shelves of books. To the side were two long tables with straight-backed wooden benches tucked along them. At one end was a desk where a woman sat with her head bent over a book. Kendra could see nothing but a pile of red-gold hair and the tip of an oval-shaped chin. In front of the woman was a lettered sign that read “Miss Dorcas. Librarian.”
Miss Jennings motioned Kendra to one of the benches. Kendra went obediently and sat down quietly while the woman moved on. She searched along a shelf while Kendra’s eyes traveled over the room. Never had she seen anything so breathtaking. Papa Mac had been right. She would be able to learn all sorts of things.
Before Kendra was able to take in all that was around her, Miss Jennings was back. In one hand she held a book and in the other a sheet of paper and a pencil. The paper said “Report,” and then some instructions. “Complete your report on your assigned reading, sign your name, and hand it to the librarian before leaving the library.” The rest of the sheet was blank except for faint lines across the paper.
Kendra stared at the sheet. She wished she could ask what a report was, but she had already been told sternly that one was never to speak in the library. She looked up at the silent woman before her and said nothing.
Then the woman leaned over, and with the pencil still held in her hands she wrote on Kendra’s sheet of paper: “Assigned reading—pages 1–20,” and handed the sheet and the pencil to Kendra.
Kendra was still puzzling when Miss Jennings left the room. But she turned her attention back to the book that had been laid on the table before her.
She had never seen the story before. It was called
The Mystery of the Yellow Crow
. Kendra had never seen a yellow crow. She couldn’t even imagine one. She began the book with some reservation.
By the time she reached page twenty, the story had barely begun. Hardly noticing that she had completed the assigned pages, Kendra kept reading. The purpose of reading a book was to discover what happened.
Somewhere a bell rang. Kendra scarcely heard it. The farmer and his wife had just decided to paint their house a nice bright yellow.
Kendra kept reading, turning pages quickly in her growing enthusiasm over the story. The blank paper still lay on the desk before her. From somewhere in the distance Kendra could hear the voices of children playing as they took their playground break from classes, but the sound did not even register. The story now had her totally enthralled.
She was almost to the end when she felt a presence near her. The librarian was standing close to her table, looking down with a frown at the blank sheet of paper. She pulled a pad and pencil from her skirt pocket and wrote in big letters: “Where is your report?”
Kendra held her breath. She took the offered pencil and put in small letters on the bottom of the pad: “I don’t know.”
The woman frowned even more deeply. Then she pointed to the sheet that had been left on the table beside Kendra’s book. She wrote again. “You have not written your report. The library is closing for the supper hour. You should have finished the twenty pages easily.”
Kendra looked back at her book. It had one hundred and six pages. She had two more to go.
“That will be two demerits,” Miss Dorcas’s long white slim fingers wrote on a fresh sheet of the little pad.
Kendra had no more idea about demerits than she did about reports. She shrugged her slim shoulders, anxious to return to her book.
The librarian was nodding toward the door and reaching for the book that Kendra held. Kendra realized that the librarian wanted the book. Reluctantly she handed it over. The last two pages would unlock the mystery, but the book was being taken from her. Mutely, Kendra watched as it was returned to a shelf.
Miss Dorcas turned and came back to the table. She pointed to a line that said, “Place your name here,” and Kendra picked up the pencil and wrote in neat script, Kendra Marty. The woman took back the pencil and wrote in big letters all across the page: REPORT NOT COMPLETED. TWO DEMERITS. Then she took the paper with her and returned to her desk. With one more nod of her head she indicated that Kendra was to leave the room. The girl got up and moved toward the heavy wooden door. She didn’t know where she was or where she was to go next. She had no idea what the rule was about leaving the library. She only knew that she was confused and alone and that she had not been able to finish the story. She would never be able to tell her Papa Mac what had happened.
“Are you Kendra?”
A girl stood beside the big library door seeming to be waiting for her to exit. Kendra was surprised to see her and even more surprised to hear her question.
She nodded silently, wondering what was going to happen now.
“I’m to be your big sister,” the girl went on, but she didn’t sound one bit happy about her assignment.
Kendra just nodded again.
The girl was older than she was. Perhaps eleven or twelve, Kendra decided.
“It’s almost supper,” the girl went on. “Have you washed?”
Kendra had washed that morning before she had left Mrs. Miller’s house. She was about to say that she had when the girl spoke again.
“It’s the rule that we all have to wash our hands. We get a demerit if we don’t.”
Kendra still wondered what a demerit was.
“Have you washed your hands?” asked the girl again.
“I washed this morning at Mrs. Miller’s,” Kendra managed to say.
“Not this morning,” said the girl in exasperation. “We have to wash before every meal.”
Kendra hung her head. She had not washed.
The girl led her to a large room with many basins and a long row of towels hanging on pegs on the wall.
“That’s your towel,” said the girl, pointing to a peg. “Hurry or we’ll both be late and we’ll both get demerits.”
Kendra washed quickly and was soon hurrying along behind the briskly walking figure in front of her.
“We can’t run or we’ll get a demerit,” the older girl informed Kendra over her shoulder.
They were breathless by the time they reached the dining room, but they did manage to duck in just before the big door closed.
“That was close,” said the older girl under her breath. “We were almost late—and I’m starving. I never would’ve lasted ’til breakfast. Next time don’t be so slow.”
Kendra nodded.
“That’s your place,” said the girl and motioned to the empty chair beside the one she moved toward at the table. Kendra was about to take her seat, but the girl hissed crossly, “Don’t sit down. We haven’t said grace.”
Kendra looked around the room. All the other girls were standing silently behind their chairs, their hands placed on the chair back.
Kendra imitated what she saw.
“Bow your head,” whispered the girl beside her sharply, and Kendra bowed her head.
Soon someone began to speak. “For all we are about to receive, may we truly be thankful. May we honor thee in our walk, our talk, and our thought. Amen.”
As soon as the last word was spoken there was a scraping of chairs, and the girls all around her took their seats. After a moment of confused hesitation, Kendra followed.
The food was served by two older girls who walked up and down the tables and spooned a portion onto each plate. As soon as Kendra had received her scoop, she picked up her spoon and took a bite.
“Don’t eat yet,” the girl beside her ordered in a harsh whisper. “We have to wait until everyone is served.”
Kendra cast a nervous glance about the room and dropped her spoon beside her plate. She didn’t know if she should spit out the food or swallow it quickly. Which action would reap the least demerits? She dared not chew. Some pair of stern eyes would surely see her.
“And don’t use your spoon,” the voice beside her continued. “Use your fork.”
From then on Kendra watched the older girl carefully. She did not make one move until her leader had made it.
The supper was green beans—fixed in a very strange way that made them taste funny—mashed turnips and a small slice of roast meat. The meat was bland and tough to chew. Kendra did not like that either.
Silently she ate her supper. She longed for some of Nonie’s good stew. It had so much more flavor with its garden vegetables and its herbs from the forests. Kendra was sure she would not be able to swallow the stuff that had been set before her. She did enjoy the half slice of bread.
Gradually Kendra began to understand about the life at the girls’ school. When in doubt, she watched the other girls. Her sharp eyes and quick wit kept her from more demerits. As it was, Kendra had amassed far too many demerits before she had learned the system. And she had discovered, much to her dismay, that a total of six demerits could earn one cleaning duties, and eight demerits sent one to the office of Mrs. Adams herself. Ten demerits meant a strap, and with a dozen demerits the doors of the esteemed school closed on you forever, sending you home totally disgraced.
