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Authors: Heather McGowan

Tags: #Literary, #Fiction

Schooling (14 page)

BOOK: Schooling
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44

Now here’s a surprise. Off the train with Beatrice into Chittock Leigh’s darkening afternoon. Twenty minutes to get to the library where Gilbert waits, spinning a globe with one hand, petrified skull in the other.

Yanking Roger out of traffic Bea is saying Chemistry is saying Aurora told me you were helping in the lab that a Mr. Gilbert arranged it as an alternative to God knows what, the cane I should think. And she is telling Bea how Monstead’s heydays are past that the cane has been abolished she is stepping back from the kerb to avoid the dog. Bea muttering How progressive how up-to-date indeed. So you may be a Science Girl what with all that work in the lab.

Well the air is blackening it seems every atom of it and Bea is allowing Roger to conduct her arm to unheard music, the cars along Station street scoot along agreeably and for the sake of variety two buses pass, then a moped. Merrily in a singsong way not really listening to herself she is saying I might be a Science Girl I might very well be a girl with those kinds of abilities.

I never trust that sort of singling out myself . . . Bea’s arm is detached, it belongs to Roger.

Pardon?

So long as you don’t believe you’re the only one.

And Bea suddenly wants her day in court so the expression goes saying, As I get older I find I like people less, I find that people disappoint that—

Not everyone disappoints—

That I am ready to die, enough alread—

It’s not a choice when you die, so go to Hell. Well, it sounds very much like shouting though it could be the wind or a polite attempt to make herself heard over traffic. What type of person would choose something like not living. She seems to be walking yelling back at Bea. And people, some that is, when they go. Leave Things Behind.

Spinning out away behind her Bea calling Wait love Don’t be angry Visit me again. The sky goes a grey dark rain hovering transoms lighting she’s down the street and up the hill. Running past guild hall that stupid shop that sells nothing nearly knocking over a perfect child. Heathens on the run. Past the lit windows of a house no one there People Can Disappoint well she could go on and die then the old crone though she should stop saying that or will end up in hell burning through the gate the corridor they are lining up for Tea mother boys pushing past Araigny knitting something toasty for Mr. Betts flying up the steps into the common room ending at the slatted window seats folded over breathing hard. Breathing hard and nothing else.

45

Crossroads don’t exist except in mythology don’t be taken in by those who would have you believe. An eye has no resolve of its own. An eye is not a thing unto itself like bear or chicken you see it is attached by an optical nerve to an object called brain or the old grey matter. An eye cannot be set upon the world to make its fortune. It needs constant attention and cannot simply be left to fend for itself. I ask you, have you ever seen an eye at a junction, stick over one shoulder, red handkerchief knotted at the end? Or in a lorry headed south for winter? Be sensible, an eye has no thumb so how can it hitch? You cannot attribute to an eye any sort of independence. Think of the optical nerve as a sort of highway. Along that highway to the eye comes a message from your brain. The message might read Blink. It might read Wink or Stare. The brain is the decision-maker here. The brain is in charge. In this way, if an eye wants to cry, a brain must give permission first.

46

The Stranger. Of Mice and Men. Not there by the science labs nor hurrying past the lily pond rushing because he’s late. Timon of Athens. Dictionary. GILBERT a centimeter-gram-second electromagnetic force. GILBERT islands lie in the South Pacific. One Gilbert lies in England. Perdition. Peregrine, a swift. Please. Surrender. Time passes.

An hour spent staring out the library window. The dusty curtains frame a proscenium arch opening onto tennis courts, Avenue, Follyfield. Now even the atlas remains answerless to questions of absence. Desertion. Beached on a remote archipelago of western Kiribati, no ship in the distant pacific. No rescue, no flag. Bairiki. Birkenebeu. Once protectorates, now independent. Only one Gilbert island remains colonized.

47

You wait with the others by the new parking lot. They go in Fords they vont dans Peugeots. You wait. One by one they disperse. That small group under the tree. Two of you left. Now just you sitting on the cold stone steps at the front of School House, the ones only visitors use. Joyce Tebazalwa who never leaves walks past she says They will never come for you they will leave you here for the vultures for your carrion to get picked clean. You light a cigarette consider her through the smoke Joyce you say Joyce I am here enjoying the snap of February air would you mind leaving me to my thoughts on reincarnation which if you don’t mind me saying from the looks of your marks on the last Human Studies test might be a subject which could benefit from your application. But she ignores that sits down. You say How do you stand the cold here. A quiet girl but she replies The cold’s the least of it. If you had a cigarette you would grind the butt underfoot. You ask Is your family in Uganda still and she says No London if you sit on cold steps like that you get piles I heard it from the radio. When she leaves Owen passes he tells you he sees your underthings you say it is on purpose but stand anyway to avoid piles. Then he’s here he’s here the car it’s here and you run toward it and he doesn’t know where to stop you don’t know where to stop running You’re late you’re late I’ve been waiting my whole damn life to which he replies Have you noticed the first words out of your mouth are so often curses but he’s laughing because he knows he’s late that you can’t wait to get the hell out of there. The large loop of the driveway and as you drive past the path to the boys’ end you pass him. He your betrayer. There he is. He of Chemistry stooping in his long grey coat with a slash at the back the coat you think turns him into a funeral director he sees you and his hand goes up he smiles raises it halfway sheepishly halfway up it could be that his arm ends its journey by his shoulder a hearty wave a halloooo but you’ve turned away. He deserted you. For four days this school this town and certainly that teacher will not exist. You go on. How’s the flat Father how’s London how’s the table with the crack the alley behind where I once saw a rat. Serviceable it’s serviceable but I prefer Felmar where you can take riding lessons during the summer where we can learn the names of plants and paint your room any number of colors not including that horrible purple you once craved in Maine. How are your courses how are your lessons. I am learning so much about what to expect. I have discovered religion in the form of Prayers how faith comes in all colors that one can have faith in people in mushy things as well as in God. I have learned that in Oxbow you can spend debauched nights I have learned that Cary Grant started off English not American I have learned that the English recipe for punctuality often involves simply not arriving at all. Goodness that doesn’t sound very reliable. Who was that who tortured you in such a manner. Oh Father he is a man with a smell to his neck he is a man with a voice like a caught gate he has made me tea and hired us bicycles to find art but apparently he’s like that to everyone. What else what else. A girl burned down a pavilion she got the idea from looking at me. My proximity sets fires. Don’t worry Father not in a car. Look at the sky I don’t want it to rain look at that house what is that sign why does the road fork like that. What else have I learned. England didn’t need our help to win the war. Discipline is for our own good. Live by the sword die by the sword. This too shall pass. Maggone tolling her bell every morning as we wake in wool hats and gloves. Dorm full of the same cold girls over and over. We dress. Oh Father how can I be lonely when I am never alone. Breakfast did you know you can eat a boiled tomato for breakfast and sometimes fish. Key cold on my chest warming with the day as we gather for prayers as we say As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Then lessons single ones Maths, English are in the morning double ones Art, Biology are in the afternoon. Well I’d be hard-pressed to choose a favorite but it has been discovered I don’t mind saying that I Am A Science Girl. Chemistry you ask well it used to be my favorite but now I am not sure. They call me untidy they call me petulant. I tell them my manner looks insubordinate but isn’t. I know I know I can’t stop talking. What will we plant in the garden there’s the trip to France at Easter where does this road go. Did you see that tree it looked like Churchill the clouds are so low it might rain. What about France they say it is an opportunity Madame Araigny says language improves when faced with necessity. Like needing a croissant she did she said that very thing. When you were a boy did that shop Wenley-Smith exist did they sell day-olds in a paper bag twisted into pig’s ears you get three bad ones like eccles cake and always a good one maybe eclair. What about Frank’s they have granny smith and cox orange pippins was the river there did the cemetery spill out graves like a shook-out cloth did you ever know a woman living on Marvelle road I met a girl with a bit of blue crayon stuck under her skin. There’s a play about birds they rehearse every night. I watch them try to remember no no I have enough words to rehearse. There’s a boy here who stares his hair needs cutting he torments me with held information. I know I’m rabbiting I like to rabbit. Blathering then I can’t hold it in I’m like a river Father I’m burbling I’m not shouting I’m not well I opened the window I wasn’t sure you could hear. Is that better. The bus I took didn’t come this way. Father did you hear about the president the American one shot in the back outside a restaurant. A teacher told us before history and everyone cheered. No not me. I wondered if I were shot would they clap like that. But it’s about nuclear weapons which they hate over here. The sun slips behind a cloud I can see that it was never out looks like clouds from here on in. Fi short for Fiona knows knots her father’s a sailor. Reef half-hitch cat’s paw. Just for a minute just for a minute. I am rolling it up I am can’t you see. I was going to stick out my tongue to pant like a dog. I wanted to suck down the clouds so it wouldn’t rain thought I might stick out my hand to test for the drops. But I won’t I won’t I’m rolling it up. What else can I give you tall tales of the man in the funeral coat stopping me when I ran away finding me in the bushes and taking me home. He put me to bed with a kiss to the forehead he set water where I could reach it if parched. I found paintings of nudes blue with cold. And when I came down for coffee for tea he said why not stay here forever. He said you seem so at home here and that bed suits you so well why not stay until you grow old. Well I refused I was beginning to miss school already I’m sorry I said it’s fishfingers for tea I’m sorry I said I believe Prep requires my attention. He was devastated for he wanted my company. He made up for it by painting my portrait in the light of a dull day. I like him Father I like him but he disappoints me why didn’t he come to the library when he said he would was he nuzzling the blue lady or Dido from Oxbow. Was it after a night of too much bed and not enough sleep. I know it’s so obvious the reason I hate the reason which is that it didn’t really matter. I saw a turkey under that bridge I swear a peacock or something. Have you heard of an American show where the lead cowboy can’t ride horses. He has a sidekick. I need a sidekick. Remember Aurora that girl with moxie I met her every morning last month to wash up the lab no it wasn’t a punishment Father it was reward for being named Science Girl. Her hair hung jagged but she gave up. Why didn’t he come. I thought he was my friend. I tell him about my life. I swear it was a turkey I swear it. How should I know why it’s under a bridge. But you can’t expect the reciprocal from those who are like that to everyone. What, Father? A dog a dog. I don’t know if I even like dogs they sniff you all the time and Father I would only see it about four times a year. Maybe we can rent one for the summer. That woman in town well her dog Roger you can never get it off your leg. Father will you think about France can we discuss it some time promise you haven’t dismissed the idea. There’s a castle there’s a swan. I thought today Father I thought today as I waited on the steps about Hinduism. In a class called Human Studies yes very well we had some tests. Can you only be reincarnated if you believe in reincarnation. Why are you laughing. Well I’m only saying there’s no way to know. Why didn’t he come Father I have to make myself not care I have to turn it off like a switch. He promised he would only tell the Head because it was in my best interests to tell the Head. Maggone gunned me down I had no warning. It was him it was him I know it was him. He never showed. I know I know a broken record. Can’t we have it down for five minutes it hasn’t been ten Father it’s only been three. I’m going to be sick. I feel it rising in my throat. Make him come next time Father I’m trying so hard not to care and he looks at me like he’s both known me all my life and never seen me before. I’m a stranger to him I’m something else to him I’m someone he confided stories of kings and rosies. He failed his father at a young age. Have I failed you Father? Well it very nearly breaks my heart to hear you say that Catrine Evans. Fidgeting with your socks rolling and cranking the window like Ford were paying you to test it and now you’re out with questions of failure, true or non. Father please your eyes on the road please Father you know how nervous cars make me. Failed in what way when you’re the cleverest girl in the world. The world without end? The solar system let’s have the planets too. Would I say to a girl who failed me Let’s paint your room let’s unpack more books we’ll look at the stars or is it too cloudy. Tomorrow we’ll go on an outing we’ll go to a film one of our epics would I say those things to a child how can you speak of failure like that. Father. Did she say anything to you Father before she went say for you not to do something. Like smoking you mean? Something else? No she didn’t ask for anything else. Did she ever ask you not to think on her. No pet she never said that. The cows are lying down. You never failed us. You never did. Father. You know child have you ever stopped to think why it might be you ask me these questions in cars and cars only. Father. I steel myself Yes? Did you ever want a son did you ever think your chances were gone when she couldn’t have more children. Now you were the only child I ever wanted handful enough and what exactly do they teach at that school Difficult Questions for Faraway Parents is it? Father. Yes. Sometimes I want to be more than one child for you both son and daughter. Truckdriver, horn. And who is it needs some raggedy boys with their football and their mud their wanting attention and new trainers. Out at all hours and wrecking the car. I remember how I was to my father when I took that job with the barrister. Romancing Miranda though I knew no more about it than I’d seen in films. My father at home learning to read. I was callous I was uncaring I put some blame on him that I couldn’t go to university with the Monstead boys. We had no money I was a terror I drank to avoid it I worked for an Englishman I thought I might marry his daughter. Do you think I’d want a son like I was. How miserable I would have been married to Miranda Watson who actually despised me. Took another seventeen years but your mother had pity for a stupid boy. Tell me Father tell me when you met Mother tell me how she saved you. Now there’s a story you’re surely bored by. Then tell the story when Hamey put the bird in his mouth. Tell about what the woman said when she came back in the room and saw yellow feathers coming out his mouth. Tell me the dress Mother was wearing when you saw her in London. The way she dropped her drink and what that man said when you wanted to punch him. Was she very elegant was her father so disappointed you could read it in his eyes. Her father was the kind of man with olives in his drinks her father held the gentlemen entranced with stories of his business. The year was nineteen hundred and sixty wasn’t it Father or sixty-three and you took Mother out on the landing you said she was the woman you planned to marry. She looked like she had diamonds in her hair but they were paste and the light caught them and her eyes and you felt raggedy. You see why would I want a son like my boyself. And you danced the whole night and with her mother as well so you seemed friendly and since they were American they weren’t as rude about your accent as the English for you could have been Dutch or South African or Nordic. Yes and your mother’s idea of wooing was to take out those infernal letters from her purse and read them to me so I would understand what real love was. Some Henry and Catherine. I said you said I don’t need letters to tell me how to love. Yes and when she went away again I wrote her I wanted to be you see I wanted to be every bit as good as her letters but you know it yourself I’m better in person. On paper what tries to say something comes out as nothing. She loved your letters Father she loved them she told me that she loved them that they were silly and sad. Well she came back so I suppose. She flew and she hated flying and London. Enough of this why do you want to hear the same thing over and over. Do you think Mother ever wanted a secret or to speak without practicing. To go through a day without saying It’s a word it’s a word I swear to you it’s a word. If there were a train back Mother would be on that platform looking down the tunnel watch herself walking up the weedy drive to stare in the windows but there’s nothing there it’s all gone the paintings the piano. You’ll see them soon in Felmar where you’ll paint your room any color but purple. Mother thought what if I am strange. Stranger why do you speak without moving your mouth. Can we be sure you even have a mouth. You perpetually state but never inquire for when you query your voice does not rise to indicate a query. And the familiarity you assume well that must go baby with bathwater. This is not your American. Get hold of yourself pull yourself together. Mother says I am trying to pull myself together I have no mouth I have no voice. Give me rituals to stave off the sameness butter rubbed behind an ear leaf in my underwear secrets that are mine and mine only. Patterns no
one else can find. A path from this class to the next some order to words touch my left ear As it was in the beginning one knee against the other And our mouth shall shew forth thy praise. No one can take it from me no body knows. Are we there are we nearly please Father I can’t breathe from the heater. Promise my leaves the box next to my bed where I keep strings and a button the four folded pages in my prayer-book amulets to ward off desertion. The film we saw it together Father they couldn’t get home they built a tunnel but ended up in enemy camp. How to avoid tunneling the wrong way and how to understand north in the dark. Four days four days and back for evening chapel on Sunday. I’ll shine my shoes so I won’t remember the feeling of leaving your voice our things Felmar Maine what difference does it make I am left alone Sunday evening. The weekend I visited the new house for the first time I returned full of memories or images that pass for memories I saw him after the service he came looking for me I’m certain of it I was wearing the new shoes he called them dashing he said I was dramatic but in a way that indicated he liked the dramatic. But now that doesn’t seem possible Father it seems I invented his smile his taking humor from me or finding some kind of pleasure in my company he stood there in the gloaming in the courtyard I had a leaf in my hand torn from a bush cracking it I smelled it he said Come to a matinee he said I like your company he said there were reasons that were not as complicated as pity I think about it again I go over it in my mind the situation the light the shadows beginning to creep down School House the nearness of him the snap of that leaf his words like water he wanted to spend time with me he wanted my company I’m trying to think Try To Remember review every situation which might have provoked his absence Father make it go away I don’t want to be alone stop this stop such persistent absence.

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