Two of the dormitories were located in the rear and to the right and the third dorm, our dorm, was located in the rear to the left. As we drove slowly around the main building toward our dorm, I gazed down the slope and saw the boathouse and the lake. A solid layer of water hyacinth stretched from bank to bank, their lavender blossoms pale with a dab of yellow on the center petals, surrounded by light green leaves. The water of the lake shone like a polished coin.
To our left, directly behind the building, were the playing fields.
"What beautiful grounds," Daddy said. "And so well looked after."
"This is like being in a prison," Gisselle retorted. "You have to go miles to find civilization. We're trapped."
"Oh, nonsense. There will be plenty for you to do. You won't be bored, I assure you," Daddy insisted.
Gisselle fell into her sulk as our dorm came into view. Structured like an old plantation house, the Louella Clairborne dorm was almost hidden from view by the large oaks and willow trees that spread their branches freely in front. It was a building constructed out of cypress, and it had upper and lower galeries enclosed with balustrades and supported by square columns that reached to the gabled roof. As we drove up, the gangway, built on the side of the front galerie, came into view. I didn't want to say it, but it did look like it had been especially made for Gisselle.
"Okay," Daddy said. "Let's get you two settled in. I'll go tell the dorm mother we're here. Her name's Mrs. Penny."
"That's all she's worth, probably," Gisselle quipped, laughing at her own sarcasm. Daddy went up the front steps quickly and disappeared within.
"You're going to have to push me all the way from this place every day to the classes, you know," Gisselle threatened.
"You can roll yourself along easily, Gisselle. The walkway looks smooth."
"It's too far!" she cried. "I'd be exhausted by the time I arrived."
"If you need to be pushed, I'll push you," I assured her with a sigh.
"This is so stupid," she said, folding her arms tightly under her breasts and glaring at the front of the dorm. Moments later Daddy appeared with Mrs. Penny, a short, plump woman with gray hair woven around her head in thick braids. She wore a bright blue and white dress over her stout body. When she drew closer, I saw she had innocent blue eyes, a jolly, wide smile with thick lips, and cheeks that ballooned to swallow up her small nose. She clapped her hands together as I stepped out of the car.
"Welcome, dear. Welcome to Greenwood. I'm Mrs. Penny." She extended her small hand with its thick, stubby fingers, and I shook it.
"Thank you," I said.
"You're Gisselle?"
"No, I'm Ruby. That's my sister, Gisselle."
"Great, she doesn't even know which is which," Gisselle muttered from within. If Mrs. Penny heard her, she didn't let on.
"This is so wonderful. You two are my first set of twins ever, and I've been dorm mother at the Louella Clairborne House for over twenty years. Hello, dear," she said, leaning over to look into the car at Gisselle.
"I hope we have a room on the ground floor," Gisselle snapped.
"Oh, of course you do, dear. You're in the first quad, the A quad."
"Quad?"
"Our rooms are designed around a central study area. Four bedrooms share two bathrooms and the sitting room," Mrs. Penny explained. "All of the other girls, except one new girl," she added, her smile flicking off and then on again, "are already here. They're all seniors like you two. They can't wait to meet you."
"And we're just dying to meet them," Gisselle sang sarcastically as Daddy brought her chair around again. He helped her into it and we headed for the house.
The dorm had a large front parlor with two large sofas and four high-backed cushion chairs around a pair of long, dark wood tables. There were standing lamps beside the sofas and chairs and standing lamps, chairs, and smaller tables in the corners. In one corner a small settee and another highbacked chair faced a television set. All the windows in the room had white cotton curtains and light blue drapes, and the hardwood floor had a large blue oval rug under and around the sofas. An enormous portrait of an elegant-looking older woman adorned the rear wall. It was the only painting in the room.
"That's a picture of Mrs. Edith Dilliard Clairborne," Mrs. Penny said in a reverent voice and nodded. "When she was a lot younger, of course," she added.
"She looks old there," Gisselle said. "What does she look like now?"
Mrs. Penny didn't respond. She continued her description of the house instead.
"The kitchen is at the rear," she said. "We have set times for breakfast and dinner, but you can always get a snack when you want. I try to run the house as if we're one big happy family," she told Daddy. Then she looked down at Gisselle. "I'll take you for a tour once you're settled in. Your quad is right this way," she added, indicating the corridor on our right. "First we'll show you where you're at, and then we'll get your things in. How was your ride from New Orleans?"
"Nice," Daddy said.
"Boring," Gisselle added, but Mrs. Penny ignored her and never changed her smile. It was as if she couldn't hear or see anything unpleasant.
Along the walls of the short corridor were hung oil paintings of New Orleans street scenes
interspersed with portraits of people I imagined to be descendants of the Clairbornes. The hall was lit by two hanging chandeliers. At the end of it was the sitting room Mrs. Penny had described: a small room crowded with two pairs of cushioned chairs like the ones in the main lobby, an oval dark pine wood table, four desks at the rear, and standing lamps.
The sound of someone laughing drew our attention to the first door on the right.
"Well, we might as well start our introductions here," Mrs. Penny said. "Jacqueline . . . Kathleen."
A girl at least five foot eleven, if not six feet tall, stepped out first. I saw by the way she slouched when she walked that she was conscious of her height. She had a narrow face with a long, pinched nose above a small mouth with thin lips that became pale rubber bands, especially when she smirked. I was soon to learn that smirking was her favorite
expression. Her bitterness was centered in her disapproving brown eyes that more than not were merely slits. She looked like someone spying on the world, an uninvited guest who attended a party for people much happier than herself.
"This is Jacqueline Gidot. Jacqueline, meet Gisselle and Ruby Dumas and their father.".
"Hello," Jacqueline said, looking quickly from me to Gisselle. I imagined that the girls in our quad had been warned that Gisselle was in a wheelchair, but of course, actually confronting her in it was more impressive.
"Hi," I replied. Gisselle just nodded, but she looked up with new interest when Jacqueline's roommate stepped up beside her.
"And this is Kathleen Norton."
Kathleen had a warmer smile. She was a dirty blonde about our height, but much wider in the hips and shoulders.
"Everybody calls me Kate," she told us quickly and followed that with a quick giggle.
"Or Chubs," Jacqueline inserted dryly. Kate just laughed. It looked to me like she laughed after most everything she said or everything and anything said about her. It was more of a nervous reaction. Her blue eyes were wide as if in awe when she looked at Gisselle, and I knew Gisselle wasn't going to like that.
"Chubs?" Gisselle snorted.
"She eats everything in sight and hoards candy all over our room like a gray-tail squirrel," Jacqueline added disdainfully. Kate laughed. Like a sponge she absorbed Jacqueline's sarcasm, smiled, and went on as if nothing had been said.
"Welcome to Greenwood."
"Thank you," I said.
"Which room is ours?" Gisselle demanded impatiently.
"Right across the way," Mrs. Penny said. When we turned, we confronted an adorable doll-like strawberry blonde with a face full of dimples standing in the doorway of the room adjacent to ours.
"This is Samantha," Mrs. Penny announced.
"Hi," Samantha said. She looked years younger than us. "You're a senior?" Gisselle asked. The tiny Samantha nodded.
"Samantha's actually from Mississippi," Mrs. Penny explained, as if Mississippi wasn't just the adjacent state but another country too. "Samantha, this is Gisselle and Ruby Dumas and their father."
"Hi," she said.
The sound of someone coming down the hallway behind us returned our attention to the corridor. A studious-looking girl hurriedly entered the quad. She wore her dark brown hair just below her ears and a pair of thick-lensed black-frame glasses, which made her brown eyes seem so much larger. She had large, hard features and was pale to the point of looking sickly, but she had a large bosom, almost as large as Mrs. Penny's, and a figure Jacqueline would tell us later was wasted on that horsey face.
"Victoria. Just in time to meet the new residents, Ruby and Gisselle Dumas," Mrs. Penny said. "This is Samantha's roommate," she explained to us.
"Hi," I said. "I'm Ruby."
Victoria took off her glasses before extending her long-fingered hand. I shook it.
"I just came from the library," she said in a quick breath. "Mr. Warden posted his outside reading assignments for European history already."
"Vicki is determined to be the class
valedictorian," Jacqueline declared from her doorway. "Or else she'll commit suicide."
"I will not," Vicki retorted. "It's just smart to get a head start," she told me. And then she looked down at Gisselle, who wore a smirk almost as disdainful as the one on Jacqueline's face. "Welcome."
"Thank you."
"Which is our room already?" Gisselle moaned.
"Right this way, dear," Mrs. Penny said and directed us to the open doorway. The moment Daddy wheeled Gisselle in she wailed.
Two single beds were side by side separated by a night table. There was a closet on the right and a closet on the left. Adjacent to the beds, with just enough room between the bed and them for Gisselle's wheelchair, were two dark wood dressers, the wood matching the bed frames and headboards. At the right of the doorway was a small vanity table with a mirror a quarter of the size of the one we had in our rooms in New Orleans. The windows were above the headboard and had the same plain cotton curtains. The walls were covered with a simple flower-pattern wallpaper and otherwise unadorned. The floors were uncovered hardwood.
"This is too small! How are we going to share this?
There's not enough room in here for my things, let alone Ruby's too."
"I'm glad someone else thinks so," Jacqueline chorused from behind us.
"Now don't you fret, dear," Mrs. Penny said. "I have storage space you can have."
"I didn't bring my things to put them into storage. I brought them to use."
"Oh dear," Mrs. Penny said, turning to Daddy.
"It'll be all right,"
he
assured her. "We'll bring in what is most necessary first, and then--"
"Everything is most necessary," Gisselle declared unrelentingly.
"Maybe she can put some of her things in Abby's room too," Mrs. Penny suggested. "Abby's by herself," she added.
"Who's Abby? Where is she?" Gisselle demanded.
"She hasn't arrived yet. She's our other new girl," Mrs. Penny said, directing herself to Daddy, who nodded. "Whatever, don't you worry your little heart, dear. Mrs. Penny is here to make things work and keep her girls happy. I have been doing it for a long time," she said, smiling. Gisselle turned away and pouted.
"Let me start bringing their things in," Daddy said. "Do you want me to help, Daddy?" I asked.
"No. Stay with your sister," he said, raising his eyebrows. I nodded, and he left with Mrs. Penny.
Jacqueline, Kate, Samantha, and Vicki gathered in our doorway.
"Why did you bring so much?" Vicki asked. "Didn't you know you don't need a big wardrobe? We wear uniforms."
"I will not wear a uniform!" Gisselle screamed.
"You have to," Kate said and followed it with a short laugh.
"I don't have to. I can't. I have special problems," Gisselle declared. "I'm sure my father will arrange for my wearing my own clothing, and there just isn't enough closet space in here for all my things. They'll have to remain in the trunks, taking up the little space we have."
Vicki shrugged. "You don't spend all that much time in your room anyway," she pointed out. "Most of the time we're out here doing our work."
"Most of the time
you
are," Jacqueline said. "Not us. So what part of Louisiana are you girls from?"
"New Orleans," I said. "The Garden District."
"That's beautiful," the doll-like Samantha said. "My daddy took me there last year when we visited New Orleans. Maybe I walked right past your house."
Gisselle turned her wheelchair so she could look more directly at the girls.
"And where are you all from?"
"I'm from Shreveport," Jacqueline said. "Chubs is from Pineville, and Vicki is from Lafayette."
"My father and I live in Natchez," Samantha said. "What happened to your mother?" Gisselle asked. "She was killed two years ago in a car accident," she replied and bit down on her lower lip quickly, all of her dimples evaporating.
"That's how I got crippled," Gisselle said angrily. It was as if she believed all the accidents were the fault of cars and not people. "If you're from Mississippi, how come you're going to school here?" Gisselle asked.
"My father's family is from Baton Rouge."
"Everyone's room is this small?" Gisselle asked, looking around.
"Yes," Jacqueline said.
"How come this Abby gets her own room?" Gisselle demanded.
"It's the way it worked out," Kate said and laughed. "The luck of the draw, maybe."
"Or maybe no one wants to room with her. We haven't met her yet either," Jacqueline said.
"You don't think she's . . ." Kate began.
"No," Jacqueline said. "They don't let them into Greenwood, no matter who protests. This is a private school," she added with some pride.
"Well, she'd better get here soon," Vicki said. "We've got to go to the orientation assembly in an hour."
"What orientation assembly?" Gisselle asked quickly.
"Didn't you read the first page in your packet? The Iron Lady always has a getting-to-know-you and getting-to-know-her assembly."
"Where she reads us the riot act," Jacqueline added. "Fire and brimstone."
"Iron Lady?" I said.
"When you hear and see her, you'll know why we call her that," Jacqueline replied.
"They're not serious about all these stupid rules listed in here, are they?" Gisselle asked, holding up the packet.
"She is, and you had better pay attention to the demerits. Chubs can tell you about that," Jacqueline said, nodding at Kate.
"Why?" I asked.
"I got ten last year and had to wash out the bathrooms for a whole month," she complained. "And don't let anyone tell you girls are neater than boys. They leave the bathrooms disgusting," she said,