11.
That could not be right. Monica had never heard of a prep school preview lasting that long, and it did not feel as though it had been two weeks. Just yesterday – or the day before, whichever – they had eaten the most delicious orange chicken she had ever tasted.
“I mean, it’s not possible, right?” Monica asked Jenny sometime later. They sat on the dock, twisting rope together,their assigned task today.
“I don’t know,” Jenny replied. She dangled her bare toes in the small lake behind the cafeteria. Alendro had been generous enough to allow her to wear her flip-flops with her school uniform, the same pairs that were lying behind them on the fragrant pine planks. Her big toe was still wrapped up in a bandage. Jenny wriggled all of her toes in the water and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Monica asked.
“Were you even listening?" Monica stared hard at her friend. "It’s like you don’t care about me. I don’t even know you anymore. Music, really? Just last month you were all about history.”
“I do care, Moni, Research, research, research, that’s all you’ve been talking about. Could you please calm down a bit and just listen? Think about someone other than yourself and enjoy this place. You might find something else you like besides your journalism. Look, I want you to touch the water. I want you to hear it." Jenny put her hand over the scum on the water. "It’s like it’s humming. Go ahead.”
The pause lingered, and Monica realized that she was not going to appease her friend until she gave into this whim. The water’s surface was pale and completely smooth , like a tarnished mirror. Monica held Jenny’s face in her gaze as, kneeling, she leaned over the edge of the short dock and parted the dull green surface with her fingertips.
There was nothing, at first. Then, a furious howling like a dog snapping its jaws shot up her fingers, into her arm. Monica was blinded. She screamed, but there was no sound, just bubbles. There was something else, too: a pair of lank yellow eyes stared out of the darkness.
Jenny was standing over her. “Are you okay?” she asked.
She was holding Monica’s damp hand. One of the red nails was more vividly red than the others, and cloven in two.
She was holding Monica’s damp hand. One of the red nails was more vividly red than the others, and cloven in two.
Monica sat up. “I think there’s something in there.” She pointed at the lake.
“Some fish, I expect.” Jenny’s gaze trailed to the lake, and then back over the trees to the buildings beyond. “Oh, great, it’s time for a meeting. Come on, let’s get you looking proper.”
“How do you know there’s a meeting?” Monica stood up and stumbled a little bit.
“I've got you.” Jenny reached out her arms and caught her friend. Her eyes scrunched up a little bit at the corners. “I don’t know. I guess it’s sort of like the place itself tells me. There’s sort of a ringing tone in the ground." Her eyes relaxed then, and she said brightly, "Are you okay, Monica? Tell me if you feel queasy.”
"A little."
"It'll pass," Jenny said in a tone of finality. It was hard, not her.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't."
"A little."
"It'll pass," Jenny said in a tone of finality. It was hard, not her.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't."
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