"Yes, monsieur."
"Dr. Storm," Daphne corrected.
"Dr. Storm," I said. He held a tight smile.
"Well now, Ruby," he continued. "Let me welcome you to our school and say that I hope it will be a truly enjoyable and productive experience for you. I have managed to place you in all of your sister's classes so that she can help you catch up. We will make an attempt to get her transcripts from her previous school," he said, turning to my father, "and any information you can provide to expedite the matter will be appreciated, monsieur."
"Of course," my father said.
"You did attend school this year, did you not, Ruby?" Dr. Storm asked.
"Yes, Dr. Storm. I always attended school," I added pointedly.
"Very good," he said, and then clasped his thick hands together on the desk and leaned forward, his body gliding up into his suit jacket to fill out the shoulders. "But I expect you will find this educational experience somewhat different, my dear. To begin with, the Beauregard School is considered one of the best in the city, one of the most advanced. We have the finest teachers and we have the best results."
He smiled at my father and Daphne and continued.
"Needless to say, you have a rather unique situation here. Your notoriety, the events of your past, have, I am sure, preceded you. You will be the subject of a great deal of curiosity, gossip, etc. In short, you will be the center of attention for some time, which, unfortunately, will make your adjustment that much more difficult.
"But not impossible," he quickly added when he saw the panic written on my face. "I will be available to counsel you and aid you in any way possible. Just come by this office and ask for me whenever you like." His rubbery lips stretched and stretched until they were as thin as pencils and the corners were sharply drawn into his plump cheeks.
"This is your schedule," he said, handing me a sheet of paper. "I have asked one of our honor students, who happens to be in all of your classes, too, to guide you about today." He turned to my father and Daphne.
"It's one of the responsibilities of our honor students. I thought about asking Gisselle, but decided that might just bring more attention to the both of them. I hope you agree."
"Of course, Dr. Storm."
"You understand why we don't have the papers you would ordinarily need for a registration," Daphne said. "This situation has just fallen on us."
"Oh, certainly," Dr. Storm said. "Don't worry about it. I’ll take whatever information you have and follow it up like a Sherlock Holmes until we have what we need."
He returned his gaze to me and sat back in his seat.
"Because you are unfamiliar with our rules and regulations and because you will find we do things differently here, imagine, I have had this pamphlet prepared for you," he said, and held up a packet of stapled papers. "It describes everything—our dress codes, behavior codes, grading systems, in short, what is and what is not expected of you.
"I'm sure," he continued, smiling widely again, "that with your home and your family, none of this will prove difficult for you. However," he added, turning firm, "we do have our standards to maintain and we will maintain them. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dr. Storm," he corrected this time himself.
"Dr. Storm."
He smiled again.
"Well then, no sense in keeping her from starting." He rose from his seat and went to the door. "Mrs. Eltz," he said. "Please send for Caroline Higgins." He returned to his desk. "While she is in class, we can go through whatever you have in terms of information about her and I will take it from there. Please be assured," he added, narrowing his eyes, "that whatever you tell me will be held in the strictest confidence."
"I imagine," Daphne said in an icy voice, "that we won't be telling you anything you don't already know."
Daphne's regal posture and aristocratic tone was like water thrown on a budding fire. Dr. Storm appeared to shrink in his chair. His smile was weaker, his retreat from an important administrator to educational bureaucrat well underway. He stuttered, fumbled through some forms and documents, and looked relieved when Mrs. Eltz knocked on the door to announce Caroline Higgins's arrival.
"Good, good," he said, rising again. "Come along then, Ruby. "Let's get you started." He escorted me into the outer office, welcoming the distraction and the temporary reprieve from Daphne's demanding gaze.
"This is Ruby Dumas, Caroline," he said, introducing me to a slim, dark haired girl with a pale complexion and a homely face with glasses as thick as goggles that made her eyes seem grotesquely large. Her thin mouth turned down-ward at the corners, giving her a habitually despondent appearance. She flicked a tiny, nervous smile and extended her slight hand. We shook quickly.
"Caroline already knows what has to be done," Dr. Storm said. "What's first, Caroline?" he asked as if to test her. "English, Dr. Storm."
"Right. Okay, girls, precede. And remember, Ruby, the door to my office is always open for you."
"Thank you, Dr. Storm," I said, and followed Caroline into the corridor. As soon as we took a half-dozen steps away, she stopped and turned, this time, smiling wider and looking happier.
"Hi. I might as well tell you what everyone calls me so you don't get confused. . Mookie," she revealed.
"Mookie? Why?"
She shrugged.
"Someone just called me that one day and it stuck like flypaper. If I don't respond when someone calls me that, he or she just doesn't try again," she explained with a tone of resignation. "Anyway, I'm really excited about being your guide. Everyone's been talking about you and Gisselle, and what happened when you were just babies. Mr. Stegman is trying to discuss Edgar Allan Poe, but no one's paying attention. All eyes are on the door and when I was called to come get you, the class started buzzing so much, he had to shout for quiet."
After hearing that preamble, I was terrified of entering the room. But I had to. With my heart pounding so hard that I could feel the thump reverberating down my spine, I followed Mookie, half listening to her description of the school's layout, which corridors were where, where the cafeteria, the gym, and the nurse's office were, and how to get to the ball fields. We paused at the doorway of the English classroom.
"Ready?" she asked.
"No, but I have no choice," I said. She laughed and opened the door.
It was as if a wind had blown into the room and spun everyone's head around. Even the teacher, a tall man with coal black hair and narrow, dark eyes, froze for a moment, his right forefinger up in the air. I searched the sea of curious faces and found Gisselle sitting in the far right corner, a smirk on her face. Just as she had said, she was surrounded by boys, but neither Beau nor Martin were in this class.
"Good morning," Mr. Stegman said, regaining his composure quickly. "Needless to say, we've been expecting you. Please take this seat," he said, indicating the third seat in the row closest to the door. I was surprised there was a desk available that close to the front, but I discovered I was sitting right behind Mookie and imagined it had been prearranged.
"Thank you," I said, and hurried to it, carrying the notebooks, pens, and pencils Daphne had made sure I had.
"My name is Mr. Stegman," he said. "We already know your name, don't we, class?" There was a titter of laughter, all eyes still glued to me. He reached down and picked two textbooks off his desk. "These are yours. I've already copied down the book numbers. This is your grammar book." He held it up. "I suppose I should remind some of you as well. This is the grammar book," he said, and there was more relaxed laughter. "And this is the literature book. We are in the middle of discussing Edgar Allan Poe and his short story, 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue,' a story everyone was supposed to have read over the holidays, I might add," he said, raising his eyes at the class. Some looked very guilty.