The Secret of Dinswood

by Ellen Alexander

  When Miss Grimstock had given them their assignment, Emma had sneaked a peak at the ever-present Sebastian to see his reaction. Once again, she’d wanted to laugh out loud. He’d already been in hot water with Grimstock on Friday, so he probably hadn’t wanted to risk making her mad again. He had looked like a red-faced blowfish as he’d struggled with the effort to remain silent.

  Classes ended at three o’clock and then they had a half-hour break before having to report for training in their chosen hobbies. Emma was actually looking forward to her hobby class. She had always wanted to learn to crochet and thought it would be a good way to relax after the stress of regular classes. Martha had chosen knitting for her hobby, so this was one time when they wouldn’t be together.

  Emma was happy to see that Miss Jennings was her teacher. Including Emma, there were ten girls in the class. Miss Jennings gave each girl a skein of yarn and a crochet hook. She then showed them how to chain, and by the time they left class at four o’clock, they could do a few simple stitches. Miss Jennings told them they would learn how to make a simple afghan and then they could go on to more difficult projects if they chose to take crocheting again next semester. They would, however, have to purchase the yarn for their projects themselves.

  “I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet,” Miss Jennings began. “But one Saturday a month, as long as the weather holds, the school buses take students down to the town of Windland for the day to do some shopping. There are all kinds of shops there, so you can get pretty much anything you need, including yarn. Once winter gets here, though, the roads can get pretty treacherous, and all trips to town are canceled.”

  “When will we be going this month?” one girl asked excitedly.

  “I’m afraid it won’t be for a couple of weeks. We’ll just practice with the yarn I gave you until then,” Miss Jennings said. “At least you’ll have plenty of time to decide what colors you want your afghans to be.”

  Emma didn’t have a lot of money for shopping, but her father had given her enough to purchase any personal items she might need. She would just have to use some of that money to buy her yarn. Looking around the room, Emma realized she was probably the only one that had to worry about buying the yarn for the afghan. She didn’t feel sorry for herself, though, because she knew money wasn’t everything. It couldn’t bring back her mother.

  Over the next two weeks, Emma’s days fell into a routine. Monday through Friday she attended regular classes, then hobby class, and then usually she would sit in the lounge for a while practicing her crocheting. Then she would have supper in the dining hall, and in the evenings, she would study in the library. Martha was almost always with her, and oddly enough, considering her superiority complex, so was Clarice. Of course, it was a given that Susie would be tagging along as well, and thus, the four suitemates were usually together. Emma had puzzled over Clarice’s willingness to associate with girls that were, at least in terms of wealth, beneath her, but she had come to realize that Clarice had no other friends. Considering her haughty attitude, Emma could understand why that would be the case.

  Saturdays were spent outdoors roaming around the grounds and sitting in the swings that hung from the massive oak trees gracing the front lawn. The weather would only be nice a little while longer, and Emma wanted to take advantage of the warm days while they lasted. Dinswood Academy was located at a high enough elevation that winter would come earlier and last longer than in most other places. On Sundays, they would all go to chapel in the morning and then spend the afternoon doing homework.

  Finally, the day arrived when some of the students would get to go down to the town of Windland to do some shopping. Emma had been looking forward to this day since she had first heard about it from Miss Jennings. Actually, buses went down to Windland every Saturday, but as the school couldn’t take the entire student body at once, the trips were taken by class. A kind of lottery system was used to determine the order in which the class or classes would go. This Saturday was the seventh graders' turn to make the journey. The eighth graders had gone last week. Next Saturday would be the ninth and tenth graders’ turn and then the eleventh and twelfth graders would go. The upper grades had fewer students, and so they could be transported together.

  Emma and Martha stood on the front steps eagerly waiting for the buses to come. As she looked around, Emma saw that there was a pretty large group assembled, including Clarice and Susie. It looked like most of the seventh grade had decided to go to Windland today. Some of the dorm advisors and teachers were also going in order to supervise. Deborah, whom they hadn’t seen since their arrival at Dinswood, was anxiously taking roll to make sure all of her little flock was present and accounted for. Emma was glad to see that Miss Jennings and Rev. and Mrs. Palmer were the teachers that would be going with them. The only thing that could possibly ruin the trip was the weather. Emma had awakened that morning to the rumble of thunder, and although the sky continued to look dark and threatening, it had yet to rain.

  Just then, another rumble of thunder sounded. Martha, who was standing close beside Emma, said, “If those buses don’t hurry up, we’re all going to get very wet.” Emma barely heard her, though. Her attention was focused on the teachers who were going to town with them. They had huddled together and were deep in conversation.

  Clarice had also noticed and asked, “What’s that all about?”

  From close behind them, a male voice answered, “They’re deciding if we should still go.”

  They all turned as one to locate the owner of the voice. Behind them stood a short, skinny boy with curly brown hair and black-rimmed glasses, which he kept pushing up on his nose. Uncomfortable under their scrutiny, he identified himself.

  “Reginald Wentworth’s the name,” and when they all continued to stare at him, he continued on hesitantly, “but everyone calls me Reggie.”

  Emma was the first to find her voice and asked the question they’d all wanted to ask: “Why should the trip be canceled just because of a little rain?”

  In a tone that suggested he was explaining something to a two-year-old, Reggie said, “Didn’t you notice the low-water bridges we went over on the way up here?” Although he was answering Emma, he continued to look at Clarice.

  Well, it looks like Clarice has found herself an admirer, Emma thought to herself. She was immediately brought back to the conversation at hand by an elbow in the ribs from Martha.

  “Ah—yes, I did notice, Reggie,” Emma said slowly, putting special emphasis on his name, “but what exactly is a low-water bridge?”

  Pushing his glasses up, he launched into his explanation with relish. “Well, a low-water bridge is basically just a concrete road connecting two sides of a small stream with a pipe of fairly large diameter, called a culvert, underneath it. A low-water bridge is fine to cross as long as the water flow isn’t too great. However, in cases of quick or extended rain or runoff from melting snow, the water flow can exceed the capacity of the underlying culvert and the water begins to flow over the bridge. When that happens, it is no longer safe to cross, because the swiftly moving water can exert enough force to carry a car, or in our case a bus, completely away.”

  At this point Martha jumped in. “In other words, if it rains a lot while we’re in town, we won’t be able to get back up to the school. We could get stuck in town.”

  “Precisely,” Reggie said, nodding his approval.

  Just then, the buses pulled up. Emma looked over at the group of teachers to see what they had decided. She knew everyone was going to be terribly disappointed if they didn’t get to go. Emma heaved a sigh of relief when the teachers began herding the students onto the buses.

  Clarice, however, was worrying over what Reggie had said and turning to look at him she asked, “Do you think it’s okay for us to go?”

  Reggie was pleased on several counts. First, Clarice obviously respected his intelligence enough to ask him his opinion. Second, this was the first time Clarice had spoken to him. Blushing with ple
asure, he said, “Sure it’s okay. We might not be able to return to school for a while, but we shouldn’t have any trouble on the way down. Windland is only thirty minutes away, and we only have to cross one low-water bridge to get there. I estimate that the one we’ll have to cross is only fifteen minutes away, so even if it starts pouring now, we’ll be across the bridge before it could overtop.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Clarice said with a sigh of relief. Then her eyes widened as something occurred to her. “You said your name was Wentworth, right?”

  “Right,” Reggie said.

  “Are you related to the Wentworths that own the department store chain?” Clarice asked.

  “My dad is Jonathon Reginald Wentworth, founder and owner of Wentworth’s department stores,” Reggie said proudly.

  “Wow, I just love shopping at Wentworth’s. They’ve got absolutely everything!” Clarice all but gushed.

  She’s finally found someone rich enough for her, Emma thought to herself. When Clarice had introduced herself to her suitemates that first day, the name Danvers hadn’t rung a bell. Later, Emma had found out that Clarice’s father, Samuel Danvers, was the founder of Danvers Communications. The company was involved in virtually all forms of communication from computers to cell phones, and Samuel Danvers was reputed to be a billionaire. How ironic that he would send his daughter to a school that didn’t allow its students to use computers except in the most basic sense.

  Clarice and Reggie continued to converse as they boarded the bus, and Reggie even managed to wrangle the seat next to Clarice away from Susie. Emma sat in front of Clarice near the window, and Martha sat on the aisle next to her. The minute Martha sat down, she began looking around. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who she was looking for. Emma decided to put Martha out of her misery.

  “If you’re looking for Doug, he’s sitting in the very back with Sebastian.” Martha reminded Emma of an owl as she craned her neck in an attempt to locate Doug.

  “I don’t see him,” Martha said, rubbing her neck.

  “Trust me, he’s there. I saw him get on ahead of us,” Emma said.

  Clarice, who had obviously been listening to them, said a little too loudly, “I don’t think it’s right that he gets to go to Dinswood just because his father is the dean.”

  Martha was just about to tell Clarice what she thought of her when Reggie jumped in, “Actually, Doug took the exam and won one of the scholarships.” Clarice gave him a withering look; but unabashed, Reggie dug a deeper hole for himself by adding, “Your dad’s on the board, Clarice, I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

  With all the disdain Clarice could muster, she said, “He probably cheated!”

  Martha was halfway out of her seat on her way to give Clarice a nice thump on the head, when, once again, Reggie intervened. “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s impossible to cheat on that test. It’s administered by an impartial panel and sent off to be scored.”

  If looks could kill, Clarice would have been guilty of murder. Reggie appeared to be completely unaware that he’d said anything wrong. That boy’s got more smarts than sense, Emma thought, and couldn’t help grinning when Clarice, in a huff, turned toward the window and refused to say another word to her new admirer.

  “She’ll get over it,” Martha whispered to Emma. Then with a grin she added, “After all, he’s about the only one that really likes her, except Susie.”

  Emma laughed and nodded in agreement then settled back to watch the scenery. The rest of the trip to Windland was without incident. The rain continued to hold off, and as Reggie had predicted, they crossed the low-water bridge with no problem.

  Soon the town of Windland came into view. The town consisted of a main street with shops of every description on either side. Sidewalks lined the street, which was wide enough that cars could park diagonally on both sides. The bus was approaching the town from the east; in the distance on the west side, a small cluster of houses could be seen. Emma also noticed a two-story log structure that sat off by itself on the northwest side of town. She later learned that it was a motel designed in the manner of a resort lodge with a vaulted ceiling and central fireplace in a spacious main room.

  The town was tiny compared to the city Emma had grown up in, but as she and Martha soon discovered, it had everything a person could possibly need. As the students got off the buses, they were told by their dorm advisors to be back on board by four thirty. They needed to be back at Dinswood Academy in time for supper at six. As it was now only eleven o’clock, the students would have plenty of time to shop.

  Emma and Martha decided to take care of the yarn for their hobby projects first. As they walked down the sidewalk, they passed a candy shop, a salon, a restaurant, and a small bookstore before coming to a general store that promised on its sign to have everything.

  “Let’s give that a test,” Martha said skeptically after reading the sign.

  When they entered the store, they saw row upon row of shelves packed full of everything from garden shears to nail polish. After wandering around the store marveling at the diversity of items displayed, they managed to locate the fabric and crafts section. The store had yarn in every possible color. The only difficulty was going to be deciding what colors to choose for their projects. Both girls had decided to make their projects Christmas gifts. Martha had decided to knit a sweater for her father, and Emma had decided to make an afghan for her father and stepmother. Martha selected a dark green yarn and Emma chose a cream-colored yarn. Once they’d made their purchases, they decided to get some lunch at the restaurant they’d seen, but when they entered, they saw that every table was taken.

  “I guess everyone else had the same idea,” Emma said. “There’s got to be somewhere else to eat in this town.”

  “We just found out there’s a restaurant in the motel down the road,” said a voice behind them. The girls turned around and were surprised to see none other than Douglas Harwood. “We were going to give it a try if you want to come along.” The “we” referred to Doug and his faithful sidekick Sebastian Conners who, at that moment, was standing on tiptoe in an effort to see the girls over Doug’s right shoulder.

  Martha seemed to be having difficulty finding her voice, so it was up to Emma to reply. Sensing that Martha would be okay with eating lunch with Douglas Harwood, she nodded and said as nonchalantly as she could manage, “Yeah, that’d be great. I wanted to get a look inside that place anyway.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Doug said. “The man we were talking to told us it was more like a lodge with a fireplace and a high-beamed ceiling and everything. I thought it sounded kind of cool.”

  “I thought it looked like a lodge when I first saw it,” Emma said as they left the restaurant and headed down the street. As they walked, it was left up to Emma and Doug to carry on the conversation as Martha had yet to recover her voice, and Sebastian, at least for the moment, didn’t seem to have anything to say.

  “You guys are in my history class, aren’t you?” Doug asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve got old Miss Grimstock every day fifth hour,” Emma replied with a grimace.

  “We’ve started calling her Grim for short,” Sebastian said with a mischievous grin.

  “I like that,” said Emma laughing. “You just better hope you never accidentally call her that to her face.”

  “I almost did once!” Sebastian said in mock horror. “She doesn’t like me as it is. Just imagine how it’d be if I called her Grim.”

  “The name suits her,” Martha said, finally joining the conversation. “That woman never smiles. She’s always so stern looking.”

  “Maybe it’s from too many years of the school’s food,” Doug said grinning, and they all laughed.

  Just then, the wind picked up and Emma felt a drop on her arm. The clouds that had been threatening rain all day were about to make good on their threat.

  “We’d better make a run for it,” Doug said, beginning to jog. The other three did the same, but they’d only take
n a few steps before it began to pour. Fortunately, they didn’t have too much farther to go before reaching the motel. As they ducked into the motel entrance, they were wet but not soaked through.

  The motel lobby opened into an enormous room with a dining area and kitchen on one side and a large, circular fireplace surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs and couches on the other side. High wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, and Emma could see numerous ceiling fans interspersed throughout the lounge area. The dining area was filled with round tables capable of seating five people. As in the restaurant, it was crowded, but there were still some tables available. Doug led them over to the nearest empty table, and they all sat down. From where she sat, Emma could see that the fireplace in the lounge had a healthy blaze going, and she wished she was sitting closer so she could feel its warmth. Seeing the direction of her gaze, Doug asked, “Do you guys want to dry off by the fire before we eat?”

  “I’m afraid we’ll lose our table,” Emma said, thinking how considerate that was of Doug to ask. “But thanks for asking.”

  “No problem,” Doug said.

  The waitress came over then and soon they were hungrily diving into hamburgers and fries. They talked easily throughout the meal. Martha, after her initial shyness, talked more than anyone, asking the boys all kinds of questions. Eventually, the talk turned to the hobbies they all had chosen. It turned out that Sebastian had chosen cooking and Doug had chosen woodcarving.

  “I really like to play chess, although I’m not very good at it,” Doug said. “I’d like to make my own chess board and carve all the pieces.”

  “I think someday I’d like to be a chef,” Sebastian said. “They’re going to teach us how to make normal things like cookies and stuff and then we’ll learn how to make fancier dishes.”