"What? What have I done now?" I cried. I looked at Mrs. Randle, who this time kept her eyes down. I returned my gaze to Mrs. Ironwood, who was staring at me with such intensity, I thought I felt her gaze pass through me like a beam of heat.
"What haven't you done? is more like it." She shook her head and looked down at me from the height of her contempt. "Right from the start, from the background on you that your stepmother so frankly confessed, from the arrogance and disdain you exhibited during our initial conference, from your attitude about our rules, violating the off-grounds restrictions almost immediately, from the manner in which you defied my wishes, I knew your attendance at Greenwood was a mistake of gargantuan proportions and destined for horrible failure.
"Punishments, warnings, even friendly advice did little or no good. Your kind rarely changes for the better. It's in your blood to fail."
"Exactly what am I being accused of doing?" I fired back defiantly.
Instead of replying immediately, she cleared her throat and put on her pearl-framed reading glasses. Then she lifted the papers under her hands to read from them.
"This is to formally commence step one of the expulsion procedure as outlined in the governing bylaws of Greenwood School as set down by the board of directors. ′The student under question,′ " she read, and looked over her glasses at me, ″ ′one Ruby Dumas, has, on the date described herein, been summoned to be informed of her hearing and to hear the charges levied against her by the administration of Greenwood Schools.
" 'Number one,′ " she began in an even more authoritative voice, " ′she has willfully and knowingly trespassed on a well-designated off-limits location on the Greenwood campus and remained at this location after curfew.′ "
"What?" I cried, looking again at Mrs. Randle, who had her head lowered and was scribbling rapidly on her notepad. "What location?"
" ′Number two, she has willfully and knowingly participated in immoral behavior on school property while under school supervision. ′ "
"Immoral behavior?"
" ′The above charges will be levied and adjudicated at a formal expulsion hearing this afternoon at four P.M. in this office.′ ″
She lowered the papers and then her glasses.
"I am to instruct you as to our procedure. A panel consisting of two faculty members and your student body president, Deborah Peck, will hear the charges and the proofs and render judgment. I will oversee the proceedings, of course."
"What charges? What proofs?"
"I've read you the charges," she said.
"I haven't heard anything specific. Where am I supposed to have gone that's off-limits on the campus? The mansion? Is that what this is about?" I demanded. Her cheeks reddened as she shot a quick glance at Mrs. Randle and then looked at me.
"Hardly," she replied. "You were seen at the boathouse after hours."
"Boathouse?"
"Where you went to have an illicit rendezvous with an employee, Buck Dardar."
"What? Who saw me?"
"A member of this faculty, a well-respected, long-time member of this faculty, I might add."
"Who? Can't I know the name of my accuser?" I demanded when she hesitated.
"Mrs. Gray, your Latin teacher. So there is no question she would be able to recognize you," she concluded.
I shook my head. "When?"
She looked at the papers as if it was a great effort to do so and said, "You were seen entering the boathouse at seven-thirty last night."
"Last night?"
"And you remained after curfew," she added. "The remaining details of Mrs. Gray's testimony will be given at the formal hearing."
"It's a mistaken identity. I couldn't have been in the boathouse at seven-thirty last night. Just call Buck in here and ask him," I advised.
She smirked. "Don't you think I had enough sense to do just that? He was called in here first thing this morning, and he did write out a confession," she said, holding up another document, "corroborating what our eyewitness saw."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "He's mistaken or he's lying. You'll see when he comes to the hearing and sees me and realizes . . ."
"Buck Dardar is no longer on these grounds. He has been relieved of his duties and he has already left the school," she said.
"What? He's been fired because of these false charges against me? But that's not fair."
"I assure you," she said, smiling coldly, "he thought my offer to him was quite fair. You girls are all under age. If not for the potential scandal, I would have turned him over to the police."
"But this isn't true. Just ask your aunt where I was last night."
"My aunt?" She pulled herself in like an accordion. "You want me to involve Mrs. Clairborne in this loathsome and vulgar affair? How dare you suggest such a thing. Is there no bottom to the depth of your immorality?"
"But I was at the mansion last night, and I was back in the dorm well before the curfew."
"I assure you," Mrs. Ironwood said slowly, "Mrs. Clairborne would never consent to give such testimony." She looked so confident and smug about it.
"But then just call Louis . . . ″
"A blind man? You want to bring him into this too? Are you out to disgrace this distinguished family? Is that your motive? Some sort of sick Cajun jealousy?"
"Of course not, but this is all a mistake," I cried.
"That's for our panel to decide at four o'clock. Be here on time." She closed her eyes and then opened them. "You can bring someone to speak in your defense." She paused and leaned forward, a curt smile on her lips. "Of course, if you want to avoid all this unpleasantness, you can confess and admit to these charges and accept your expulsion."
"No," I said, infuriated. "I want to face my accusers. I want everyone who is party to these lies to have to look into my eyes and understand what they're doing."
"Suit yourself." She sat back again. "I knew you would be defiant to the end, and I had little hope of making things easier for your family, even after the tragedy your stepmother has just recently endured. I feel sorry for you, but you are probably better off returning to your own kind."
"Oh, there's no question I'm better off doing that, Mrs. Ironwood," I said. "My kind doesn't look down on people just because they don't happen to be rich or descendants of some noble family. My kind don't plot and connive," I snapped. My tears were hot under my lids, but I kept them locked in my eyes so as not to give her the satisfaction of seeing me brought down. "But I won't be paddled out of here in a canoe built out of fabrications and hateful deceit."
She gazed at Mrs. Randle, who quickly looked down at her notepad again.
"For the record," Mrs. Ironwood dictated, "let it be noted that the student, Ruby Dumas, denies all charges and wishes to go forward with the formal hearing. She has been informed of her rights—"
"Rights? What rights do I have here?" I said with a sarcastic laugh.
"She has been informed of her rights," Mrs. Ironwood repeated pointedly. "Do you have all this, Mrs. Randle?"
"Yes," she replied quickly.
"Let her sign the notes as prescribed by the bylaws," Mrs. Ironwood said. Mrs. Randle turned her pad toward me and pushed it closer, handing me a pen at the same time.
"You sign right here," she instructed, pointing to a line drawn at the bottom of the page. I plucked the pen out of her fingers and started to sign.
"Don't you want to read it first?" Mrs. Ironwood asked.
"What for?" I said. "This is all a well-rehearsed play, with the outcome predetermined."
"Then why continue it?" she demanded quickly.
Yes, I wondered, why continue it? Then I thought about Grandmère Catherine and about all the times she was called to face the hardest of challenges, the unknown, the dark; and how she always went willingly to do battle for what was right and what was good, no matter how terrible the odds against her success were.