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Authors: Rebecca Harrington

Penelope (23 page)

BOOK: Penelope
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Over the next four hours, Penelope became increasingly frantic. At three in the morning, she started crying after she accidentally erased her line graph about birth cohorts for the third time. She had completed one graph out of twelve successfully and the report was due at noon the next day. She went out to the soda dispenser and got another Diet Coke.

She was alone in the computer lab save for one extremely thin boy in a massive red T-shirt, who was playing a computer game that involved chatting to other people through a headset. Periodically, this boy would look at her and shake his head. Then he would go back to his game. Penelope wanted to rip his hair out.

Penelope settled herself in her seat again.
I can do this!
she thought. She cracked her knuckles. She readjusted herself in her seat. She put all of Luxembourg’s death rates in one row and all the years that the death rates were measured in in another row. She pressed the graph button. A black square appeared on the computer screen.

“Oh no!” yelled Penelope, who then dissolved into actual tears. Red T-shirt glared at her.

“Are you really crying?” he asked Penelope.

“Yes!” said Penelope.

“What are you doing?”

“A graph of Luxembourg,” said Penelope.

“I bet that’s really easy,” said Red T-shirt.

“No,” said Penelope. “It’s really hard.” Red T-shirt was not listening to her anymore. He was trash-talking his Internet compatriots.

“Penelope,” said a voice from the corridor. “Is that you?” It was Gustav.

Penelope turned around. “Yes,” she said. She tried to wipe her face, but she had a feeling she had made herself look worse.

“Well, what are you doing here at the witching hour?” He strode into the room. Gustav was very tan and was wearing what seemed to be snow pants with shackles made out of nylon wrapped around them. He sat down at the computer next to her and peered into her face. Penelope hoped it didn’t look too horrendous.

“I should ask you the same question,” said Penelope. She hiccoughed.

“Well, I am here because I just got back from Japan about two hours ago and have to do this demmed country report. Don’t have Excel on my computer. Jared’s been rather intractable as well. Wouldn’t give me an extension despite my pleading and a bishop’s letter.”

“Well, that is what I am doing,” said Penelope, “and it is really hard.”

“What country are you doing?”

“Luxembourg.”

Gustav guffawed.

“The long-neglected topic,” he said. He had grown a slight beard during his trip to Japan.

“Which one are you doing?”

“Inner Mongolia. Or Outer Mongolia, whichever one is an actual country,” said Gustav.

“Do you have all the census data?” asked Penelope.

“Looked it up on the plane. Exceedingly boring country. No one has children anymore, yet archers abound.”

“Well, good luck graphing it,” said Penelope.

“Oh. Graphing? This shouldn’t be hard at all. It’s merely putting numbers in a box.”

“That is what I thought,” said Penelope in a monotone. She turned back to her computer. Both she and Gustav graphed silently for ten minutes.

“Why, that’s odd,” said Gustav. “Just erased my whole graph by accident. How did that happen? I guess I should start over.”

Gustav kept graphing.

“I say,” said Gustav, “what kind of program is this? I didn’t want a pie chart of any kind. Penelope, why did it give me a pie chart?”

“Hold on,” said Penelope. “I may have actually figured something out.”

“Finally!” said Red T-shirt.

“The boy is rather a pill,” said Gustav.

“You guys are pills!” yelled Red T-shirt.

“OK,” said Penelope. She walked over to Gustav’s computer station. “I think this is what you do, so it doesn’t erase everything all the time.”

“Oh, dear God, by Jove, you’ve got it! How did you figure that out?”

“Trial and error,” said Penelope.

“Also, you cried for like ever,” said Red T-shirt.

“What game are you playing?” said Gustav.

“Myth II: Soulblighter,”
said the kid.

“Well, then, you have no business ridiculing this fine lady.”

“Whatever,” said Red T-shirt.

“Thank you, Penelope,” said Gustav. “You have shown me the truth of graphing.”

“You’re welcome,” said Penelope, who resumed her seat.

At 6:30 in the morning, Penelope finished her final graph. She had had three Red Bulls over the course of the night and she was wearing the worst bra possible. Gustav preserved his good looks well into the morning hours. The computer lab was, perhaps, the site of the most continuous self-recriminations Penelope had ever endured. She decided to take a brief nap.

“Darling, you can’t sleep with your head against the computer screen,” said Gustav. “I’m afraid you will permanently ruin your posture.”

“How long have I been like that?” asked Penelope.

“About an hour or so,” said Gustav. “Didn’t want to wake
you initially, but your positioning seemed to become more and more uncomfortable as time marched on. Plus, according to my calculations, you only have about four hours to complete the written portion of the country report.”

“Is it already eight?” asked Penelope, suddenly sitting upright.

“Yes,” said Gustav. “I myself just finished the graphing portion of the thing and am now going to get myself a cup of coffee. I will be back.” He strode out of the room without a jacket.

Gustav came back about half an hour later with several coffees and a large white bag. He sat down in front of his computer and set the bag down on the table between him and Penelope.

“Here, ma’am, is a coffee for you.”

“Thank you so much!” said Penelope.

“I got four coffees, because stupidly I did not ask how you liked yours. Also, considering we must write until noon today, we will probably drink all of them no matter how they are prepared.”

“I love coffee of any kind, really,” said Penelope.

“How far are you in your treatment of Luxembourg?”

“Not very far. I might introduce a forestry section to take up space.”

“Excellent idea.”

“I definitely think it will be my most entertaining section,” said Penelope.

“I am sure that Jared will appreciate it. And now to work,” said Gustav, who cracked his neck dramatically.

Penelope sipped her coffee.

Three hours passed. Penelope wrote as quickly as she ever had in her life. As time passed, she realized that each sentence she wrote had started to contain longer and longer words and make less and less sense in the logical context of the report.

“Do you think ‘the amelioration and amalgamation of various disparate elements has made Luxembourg what it is today’ actually makes sense as a sentence?” asked Penelope.

“I wouldn’t say that it exactly ‘makes sense,’ but I would say that the alliteration is very nice,” said Gustav.

“I did think that was good,” said Penelope. “And I am also on my third coffee.”

“Good girl,” said Gustav, typing madly.

When it was ten minutes before noon, Penelope finally finished spell-checking her report. It wasn’t good, but it did have all the required parts, plus a unique comparison between the forests of Luxembourg and Belgium.

“OK,” she said. “I am done. I am going to print it.”

“I’m going to print too,” said Gustav. Penelope got up from her computer and stationed herself next to the printer. After two minutes of staring into space, willing herself to stay awake, she looked down at the screen.

“It’s out of paper,” said Penelope. She frantically opened and closed the paper drawer. “Oh, shoot! This can’t really be happening! How is it possible that we are out of paper?”

“Not to worry,” said Gustav.

He ran out the door and leaped up several stairs. Penelope started sweating a little. It was 11:55.

Gustav came back three minutes later with a swath of loose-leaf paper.

“Here,” he said, handing it to Penelope. “Load it into one of the trays.”

Penelope did. “Where did you find this paper?” asked Penelope.

“I stole it from the other computer lab upstairs,” said Gustav.

“That was good thinking,” said Penelope.

“Well, I pride myself on quick reflexes,” said Gustav. By the time they finished printed out their country reports, it was 12:01.

“Hurry,” said Gustav. “We have to run to his box. It’s on the third floor, and we are already late. I am sure he is standing there, mentally categorizing us as delinquents. He would probably put us on a boat to Australia without a second thought.”

When they got upstairs, Jared was indeed standing outside his box. Penelope looked at the clock. It was 12:05.

“Just in time, guys,” said Jared. “At 12:07, I was going to stop
accepting country reports and you would have automatically got a failing grade, or at least a full-letter markdown, so congratulations, because you avoided that. I look forward to reading these. I really do. I hope you two learned a lot. I feel like I’m going to learn a lot.”

“Yeah,” said Penelope. “I learned a lot about forestry. Maybe I want to go into it as a career.”

“What?” said Jared.

“Oh, nothing,” said Gustav. “She’s just delirious.” He kicked her in the shin.

“I hope you both didn’t pull an all-nighter. You guys should have been working on this steadily since you got the assignment.”

“Of course we didn’t pull an all-nighter,” said Gustav.

“Have you gotten your e-mail fixed?” Jared asked Penelope.

“Almost. I have been really busy,” said Penelope. “I am in this play.”

“What play?” asked Jared.

“Caligula,”
said Penelope.

“Oh my God. I love
Caligula
,” said Jared. “It’s my favorite play.”

“This production is very experimental,” said Penelope.

“I love experimental theater. Do you have a big part?”

“It’s very small,” said Penelope. “I am just a guard, and I am reading a senator’s part until they find a replacement.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” said Jared.

Penelope hoped this was an empty threat.

“We really should be going,” said Gustav.

Penelope waved at Jared.

“Bye,” she said.

They walked down the stairs.

“Darling, I know, intimately, how truly tired you are, but you must try to keep it together in front of authority figures. Let me walk you back to Pennypacker.”

“Really? You don’t have to,” said Penelope. “Where do you live?”

“In Adams House. It’s on my way, really. Plus, I have a duty to you, as a fellow soldier in the trenches.”

“Thanks,” said Penelope.

They walked for a while. It was searing cold and very gray. It had snowed two nights before, but it hadn’t snowed very much and rained soon afterward, so the remainder of the snow had frozen and now lay rather dirtily and unevenly all over the Yard. Penelope, as was her custom, was wearing illogical shoes for the occasion.

“Ah, the beauties of nature,” said Gustav.

“I hate nature,” said Penelope. Her feet were freezing.

“What a charming sentiment! It does run in opposition to your fascination with forestry, but I am sure most things do. Penelope, can I ask you a question? What are you going to do today?”

“Well,” said Penelope. “Maybe I will sleep.”

“That is a given. But after that. What is a typical day in the life?”

“OK. After I sleep, I will wake up. Maybe I will watch a DVD.”

“Watch a DVD? What DVD?”

“It varies,” said Penelope.

“I think you should become more involved in extracurricular activities,” said Gustav.

“That is what my mother says,” said Penelope.

They were at the door of Pennypacker. Some of the kids who worked at the radio station were talking on the path nearby. They were all wearing stupid hats, and, momentarily, Penelope felt embarrassed. Gustav turned toward her.

“Well, I should be off. Have to sleep and everything. Might even study. The semester is drawing to a close.”

“OK,” said Penelope.

“I think you should get a drink with me tonight,” said Gustav.

“OK,” said Penelope.

“Didn’t I invite you out for a drink before Thanksgiving?”

“Oh, you did?” said Penelope.

“I texted you about it. After Harvard-Yale.”

“Oh, really? I don’t know,” said Penelope.

“You might have Alzheimer’s. Curious. Meet me at ten p.m. at Daedalus? The second floor. You do know where that is, I trust.”

“I will Wikipedia it,” said Penelope.

“Such a resourceful girl! See you then.”

“Bye,” said Penelope. She walked up the stairs in a daze. She couldn’t sleep at all when she got to her room.

Penelope felt that “going to drinks” definitively qualified as a date. It was also a date of a foreign and mysterious kind. Penelope had never “gotten a drink” before. She had gotten coffee once, with her boyfriend who had the lisp that only she could hear. That was not very romantic, as they talked about the Olympics the entire time, which was Penelope’s least favorite televised event.

When Penelope was walking up to Daedalus later that evening, she got a call from Ted. She briefly considered letting it go to voice mail, but instead she picked it up.

BOOK: Penelope
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