When You Wish upon a Rat (20 page)

“Why did she do that?”

“I'm left-handed.”

“So?”

“All the other
left hands
learned to write with their right hand by the end of fourth grade,” Bridie explained miserably. “I just never could do it properly.”

“But why
should
you?”

Bridie stared back at Ruth blankly.

Ruth looked at Bridie's work and saw that the writing she'd done with her left hand was quite legible.

“Everyone has to learn to write with their right hand,” Bridie said in a small voice. “It's just the way it is.”

“No, it isn't,” Ruth whispered angrily. “It's quite acceptable to be left-handed where I come from.”

“Really?” Bridie asked skeptically. “Where
do
you come from?”

But Ruth didn't get a chance to explain anything because the nun had turned around to face the class again and was glaring at them.

“Homework, girls!”

There were sighs of resignation as they all opened their books.

When the class ended, Ruth got up along with everyone else. Her growling stomach told her that it was lunchtime.

Bridie was the only one not getting up.

“Aren't you coming to lunch?” Ruth whispered.

“I have to stay in lunchtimes,” Bridie said without looking up, “if I'm in the brace.”

“So when do you eat?”

“I don't,” Bridie said grimly. “I hardly ever do when I have
her.
” She flicked her gaze up to Thunder Guts, who was waiting at the door watching the other girls file out.

“Hurry up, girls!” the nun said loudly. “I need to lock this room.”

“You need to fill your big greedy gut,” Bridie said under her breath, and Ruth suppressed a chuckle. It was good to see she wasn't completely cowed.

“Is she going to lock you in?”

“Yes.” Bridie nodded gloomily.

Ruth gulped, wondering how she could help Bridie. But she was starving.

“You're planning on staying too, are you, dear?” the nun called sarcastically. There was only Ruth and Bridie left in the room now. “Like to have your hand strapped up too, would you?”

“Er … no, Sister,” Ruth replied, looking down at Bridie uncertainly.

“Get a move on, girl!”

“Go on!” Bridie whispered. “Go have lunch quick or she'll keep you in too.”

“I'll try and save you something from lunch,” Ruth whispered under her breath.

“Thanks!”

Ruth was almost at the door when she stopped. She looked back at the nun, who was packing books into a satchel. Such a horrible face! The eyes behind the glasses were so small and muddy, and her skin was so mottled. The red blotches looked like some kind of weird map all over her face. And her bulky arms
stretched the sleeves of her black habit as tightly as another skin.

Ruth glanced at Bridie, bent over her exercise book with her hand tied up behind her back. It just wasn't right!

“Excuse me, but left-handed people are born that way.” The words tumbled out before she could think. “Sister,” she added as an afterthought, because it was not her intention to be insolent.

“I beg your pardon?” the nun spluttered.

Ruth stepped closer. “Left-handed people can't help it,” she said.

The huge nun stared at her.

Ruth had the sudden, odd feeling that this was her mother talking. How many times had Ruth been embarrassed by her mum speaking up in front of everyone? Now she was doing the same! But Ruth didn't feel brave like her mother. She felt terrified, but she continued. “If you let her write the way that comes naturally to her, then her writing would be so much better.”

“Is that so?” The nun took a step toward Ruth, and then another.

It took all of Ruth's courage not to flinch and step back.

“So you know all about it, do you?” The woman was positively seething.

Ruth had a flash of inspiration. All morning she'd been hearing about God. She'd been praying to God and learning all
about God's plan for the world and for everyone in it.
Please, God, this
and
Thank you, God, for that.
Ruth hadn't had any experience with God before. But if He
was
out there and if everything they said about Him was true, then why wouldn't He want left-handed people to be …
left-handed?
Wouldn't they be part of His plan too?

“Why would God make someone left-handed if He didn't intend them to be left-handed?” Ruth blurted out.

“I'll give you exactly what God intended!” Sister Gregory snarled, and smacked Ruth across the face. “How
dare
you question me!”

Ruth gasped and stepped back, holding her cheek; the nun stepped closer still and slapped her other cheek.

Ruth had been smacked only a couple of times in her life, and never like this. Sure, she'd been pushed around occasionally, stepped on and squashed a bit by her brothers over the years, but never actually hit. Not deliberately. Her face stung with the shock of it, and the pain. Tears came to her eyes. But she didn't cry, nor did she retreat even one step.

“You insolent brat!” the nun hissed. “I've a good mind to give you a whipping.”

“Excuse me, Sister!” Bridie was standing.

“What do
you
want?” the nun roared.

“Ruth is new today, Sister,” Bridie pleaded breathlessly. “She doesn't know—”

“Sit down!” the nun exploded, and turned to Ruth. “Never have I been treated to such willful, outrageous behavior from one so young! Never! How old are you?”

“Eleven,” Ruth said, deliberately not adding
Sister.

“
Sister!
” the woman screamed. “Have you been taught nothing? What is your name?”

“Ruth … Sister.”

Sister Gregory stood there with both hands twitching.

She was going to hit her again.
Ruth braced herself and tried not to flinch. But then she saw that the ugly old biddy was actually
bewildered.
No one had ever questioned her before and she was floundering a bit. The slap didn't come; the nun suddenly turned her back on Ruth, opened a drawer, and began fishing around for something, huffing and puffing as she did so.
A whip?
Ruth swallowed. She was afraid again. She thought of Howard and the red marks all over his body. Now she would know what that was like.

But when the nun turned around she was only holding a couple of books. Her expression had changed into an unpleasant smirk.

“We'll see what Reverend Mother has to say about you, miss!” she declared pompously, picking up her satchel. “Off you go. Wait outside her office. I'll be there shortly.”

“Oh please, Sister!” Bridie was on her feet again. “Don't send her to Reverend Mother!”

“Sit
down,
Bridie Fallan, and be quiet!” the nun roared. “Or you will be accompanying this brat yourself!” Looking at Ruth, she pointed one of her fat red fingers at the door. “Off you go!”

“But I don't know where to go,” Ruth said.

“What did you say?”

“I don't know where Reverend Mother's office is, Sister. I'm new.”

“Then wait here,” the nun growled. She was beside herself now and looked like an enormous lobster, crusty and red-faced. “No lunch for either of you!”

She grabbed Ruth's shoulder in a vise-like grip and pushed her into a seat in the front row. “Sit here and don't move. Don't speak or turn around. Just sit here and think about how you will explain yourself to Reverend Mother. I'm sure she will decide that you are much too good for this place! Barrytown will suit the likes of you better.” The nun gave two short hoots of laughter and rolled off to the door on her broad black feet.

“Bridie Fallan, you must have five pages written by the end of lunch!” she called. “Or it's the same again for you tomorrow!”

“Yes, Sister!” Bridie stood as the nun marched out.

They heard her lock the door behind her.

Ruth sat still, staring in front of her. She couldn't quite work out what had happened. After a few moments she turned around. Poor Bridie was diligently bent over her work. Her left
arm was still tied up behind her back. A fresh rush of anger swept through Ruth.

“What should we do?” she whispered urgently.

“Nothing we can do.” Bridie looked up, and Ruth saw that she'd been crying. “I've been putting up with her all my life.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I can't remember being anywhere else. My mother died when I was born.”

Ruth got up and walked down the aisle to her friend. “I can help,” she offered.

“No point.” Bridie looked at the door. “She'll know. I'll have to do it.” She went on writing the letters slowly and clumsily, and then added quietly, “I wish I was clever like you.”

“She's just jealous,” Ruth said angrily, “because you're so pretty and she's so ugly!”

Bridie laughed, but Ruth continued quite seriously, “Listen, Bridie, I'm going to help you every night after school from now on and you'll get much better.”

Bridie shook her head sadly. “Reverend Mother will kick you out!”

“Kick me out where?”

“You heard her. Barrytown. It's for the real toughies.” Bridie suddenly grinned. “But don't worry, you'll survive there because you're clever. I'll miss you, though.” Bridie held out her hand. “I've
only known you for half a day, Ruth, but you're already my best friend.”

Ruth took Bridie's hand, not at all embarrassed by this disclosure, just sad that it looked like it was all going to end.

“I'm so glad I met you, Bridie!” she said.

Ruth left Bridie to get on with her writing and went to the window to think.

There had to be some way out of this.

Of course there is a way out,
a little voice told her.
Think!
Ruth turned around to Bridie with a huge grin. It was so blindingly obvious! What had taken her so long?

“Stop, Bridie!” she said urgently. “Just
stop
doing it.”

“But I have to get five pages done by the end of lunch.”

“No, you don't,” Ruth said excitedly. “How would you like to come and live with us?” she asked. “With me and my family? How would you like to go to a normal school where they won't make fun of you? You'll be able to write with your left hand and lots more good stuff. We'll get you your own little telephone that you can keep in your pocket. How would you like that?”

Bridie burst out laughing. “Are you mad?”

“No!” Ruth said. “My brother has one already. We'll both get one.”

Still laughing, Bridie entered into the spirit of Ruth's plan.

“So, where is this place?”

“Never mind that,” Ruth said, “I'll get you there. But I've got
brothers. They're not always easy. And parents who are a bit crazy at times, but they'll be kind to you. What do you say? Do you think you'd like to come?”

“But … your family wouldn't want me.” Bridie smiled wistfully. “They've got their own kids.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Ruth told her. “My family will take you in. In fact, they'll love you. I'm sure of it. Having you come to live with us is just the sort of bizarre thing they love.”

Bridie put down her pen. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“But how do we get there?” Bridie whispered.

“First, we've got to get out of this room. And then we've got to find a red door.”

“A red door?” Bridie shook her head. “I really like you, Ruth, but I'm beginning to think you might be a bit crazy. Why do you want to find a
red door?
”

“It will take too long to explain now,” Ruth said anxiously. “Can you think where there might be one?”

Bridie shook her head again.

“Well, we're just going to have to look. First thing is to get out of this room before Thunder Guts gets back.”

“But we're locked in!”

“How about the windows?” Ruth went to one of the old windows and unlocked the catch. Then, without any difficulty, she pulled up the sash. Smiling, she turned to Bridie. “Come on!”

Bridie stood still in the middle of the classroom.

“Just think of being free!” said Ruth. “You decide when and what you eat and when you sleep. You decide when and if you'll go to church or for a walk. You decide which hand you use for writing!”

Bridie stared at her for a moment and then she took a deep breath. “Will you help me take off this brace?” she said with a slow grin.

“Of course!”

Luckily, the classroom was on the ground floor. Still, it was quite a drop and Ruth scraped the backs of her thighs on the old, splintery wood. The rest of the girls were still in the dining room at lunch, so there was no one to see them. Once they were out and standing in the concrete playground, Ruth had a moment of misgiving. Maybe it was unfair to drag Bridie along. If they got caught, they would be in so much trouble. Then she remembered Bridie's hand being tied up in the sling. It was completely unfair that she should have to put up with six more years of old Thunder Guts.

“We'd better start looking for the red door.”

“What will we say if we get caught?” Bridie asked timidly.

“Don't worry, I'll think of something.” Ruth looked at Bridie's frightened face. “I just know we're going to find it. We've got time. We've got until six tonight.”

The girls ran across the playground to the front gate, which
was closed. Sticking close to the sandstone wall, they crept along it past the tennis courts and classrooms. There was plenty of cover for them to hide behind if they saw anyone, because there were trees and shrubs planted all along the edge of the wall.

“Someone
will
catch us,” Bridie moaned, peering out from behind the shelter shed. “It's just a matter of time. You can't do anything secretly around here. By six o'clock tonight they'll be organizing our transfer to Barrytown.”