They knew.
Wanda called for a meeting that night, and it was attended by Merton and Dee Dee and Everett, the only members of the higher echelons present at Mount Laurel that weekend.
Fat Wanda, as the new girls called her, showed the film with the sound track and they listened intently. Merton grinned afterward. “Some chick,” he said.
“She’s just a green kid,” Dee Dee said.
“Could have fooled me. She’s ready. You start the ball, Wanda.”
“I thought so. We’ll give her the buildup, then put her down in New York and wait. Okay? You have your men ready?”
He nodded. He had started the film again and was watching her silently this time.
On Monday Lorna was summoned to Wanda’s office, where she was told that accusations had been made by three different girls charging her with heresy. Lorna looked blankly at Wanda, who sat back and regarded her.
“But… what do they say I did, or said? Who made the charges?”
“You will be suspended from all duties while an investigation is being made of the charges brought against you.”
“How can I prove that I didn’t do or say anything…?” She stopped in confusion, “I don’t even know what the charges are!”
“Have you ever questioned Brother Obie’s call?”
“No!”
“Have you ever said that Brother Obie doesn’t speak with God?”
“Never!”
“Have you anything else to say?”
“If I knew who had told such a monstrous story…. Maybe I hurt one of the girls, maybe I criticized when I should have tried harder to understand a mistake…. I don’t know why anyone would have said such a thing!”
“Very well. Dismissed. You will remain in your dormitory, speaking to no one, until a decision has been reached. You will be notified.”
“But… is that all? Isn’t there any way I can find out who said those things, find out why they said them? They must need help. Have you questioned them thoroughly?”
“That is all, Lorna. Dismissed.” Wanda was reading through one of the papers on her desk, and didn’t look up again. Lorna turned and went to the door. She felt very near tears, and there was a tightening in her throat that made her afraid that if she tried to speak again, she would sob. She left with her head bowed, hurt and humiliated and bewildered.
She waited the rest of the day, and all of the next, and on Wednesday morning she was again called. This time she was led to the larger office in the main building, and Merton was there with Wanda. There was a high-backed chair there also, and she was directed to it. She sat down gratefully. She had not slept much for the past week, and the strain of waiting had her shaky. She pressed her legs tightly to hide the quiver in her knees that betrayed her.
Merton went to Wanda’s desk and pressed a button. In a moment the outer office door opened and a woman entered carrying a covered tray. She put it down behind Lorna. The girl sat stiffly, looking ahead. No one said anything. She could hear movements behind her, and she jerked when a cloth was whipped out before her and fastened around her neck.
“No!” She screamed then and tried to rise. Merton slapped her hard and she knew the reason for the high-back chair. She was pressed back to it, and the cloth about her was fastened, pinioning her arms, clamping her to the chair. She closed her eyes and tears squeezed through her eyelids and ran down her cheeks. The woman cutting her hair was fast; it was not a glamor cut, was not meant to be such, but Lorna’s hair was curly, like her mother’s, and she really looked better with the very short, curly mass of gold than she had with it hanging free. Wanda said angrily to the woman with the scissors, “Shorter, you fool!” More was taken off and by then Lorna had a very boyish haircut. Her cheekbones were high and wide, her nose very straight and fine, and her mouth firm and beautifully shaped. She looked like an idealized Joan when they finished with her. She felt the cloth being removed and she sat without moving while the sounds indicated that the woman was gathering her equipment.
“Stand up.” Merton’s voice, very tight, cold.
“Strip.” Wanda’s voice, angry, vengeful, petulant. She didn’t like the way Lorna kept improving under their punishment.
Lorna began fumbling with the buttons and the belt. She removed the shirt, then her shoes, the pants, and stood before them in her bra and underpants. “All of it,” Merton said, still very cold.
Lorna finished. She didn’t open her eyes until she was naked. She looked then at fat Wanda, and from her to cold Merton, and she shivered under their eyes. She made no motion to cover herself, but stood straight, with dignity. “I didn’t do anything,” she said. “You know I didn’t, both of you.” She was told to turn around and march. They took her out the wide double doors of the mansion, and lining the walk, stretching out of sight between trees, were the campers, boys and girls alike, each holding a small handmade broom of wire grass. When they saw her the youngsters started shouting and screaming: “Blasphemer! Heretic! Betrayer! Nonbeliever! Short hair!”
They whipped her. The same afternoon they took her away from Mount Laurel, dressed in a sack made of unbleached muslin, and flew her to the edge of the many towns and villages that made up metropolitan New York. The Militant Millenniumist who put her off the hovercraft handed her a credit and ID card. “Not that you have any credit,” he said coolly and spat on her,spun around, and got back on the craft and left her.