Darrowwood Part Eight

8.

      “Hello,” came the high-pitched voice between the girl’s thin lips.

     “Er, hello,” Monica stammered.  Jenny flipped around to look at the newcomer.

     “My name is Cynthia.  I hope you like your new room. You’ll be here for a while.”

     “I wasn’t planning on staying that long, actually,” Monica said.

     “That’s nice." Cynthia smoothed out her pleated black skirt, which Monica recognized as part of the uniform for girls.  “Alendro will be expecting you both to join our town hall meeting shortly.”

     “I wasn’t aware that teachers here go by their first names.  Is that normal?”  Jenny asked.

     “He isn’t just a teacher,” Cynthia said. “I will see you both at the meeting.” She turned and walked out.

      Monica caught a glimpse of a vivid blue strand of hair falling down the girl’s back before turning to look at her best friend.  “Are you coming to see what this is all about?”

     Her friend was fixated on a point just short of the foot of the bed. “Oh, no, it broke,” Jenny said, bending down to scrutinize the tear that had formed at the toes of the left sneaker. “These are the only shoes I brought.  No, I’m coming, Monica, just go on ahead. I’m fine, go.”

     Monica walked into the corridor.  One side of the long cabin housed deep rooms for students; on the other side large windows dominated the cedar paneling.  Beyond that, a thick forest screen formed a second wall.  It gave the dormitory house the feel of a fortress. She thought that there might have been an open area somewhere in the thickets, judging by the way the wind stirred the leaves.  She decided to check it out, later.  Right now she had to follow other, uniformed students outside to what appeared to be a stone scullery.
     They used to make butter in places like these, she thought. Or stored stuff. Before refrigerators and that modern technology which made life easier, sometimes. She had the impression that it retained its original purpose - it radiated cold.

     When Monica entered the structure she was handed a red mantle by an attendant and told to stand in a line.  Her teeth chattered and she rubbed her arms. The boy ahead of her turned around and rolled his eyes.  She stumbled back; through her breath, she could have sworn she saw a yellow dot move inside of his right pupil.

Read Part 9