“It was terrible,” Ruth said in a quiet voice.
“You said you wanted a normal family,” he countered defensively.
“I know,” Ruth agreed.
“I did my best!”
“I didn’t realize my brothers were going to be erased.”
“You wanted to be rid of them! What was I supposed to do?”
“Just because they drive me nuts doesn’t mean I wanted anything bad to happen to them,” Ruth tried to explain.
“Nothing bad did happen to them!” Rodney huffed. “I don’t do gruesome.”
“But it was gruesome!” Ruth grimaced, remembering her dream of Marcus and Paul in the shed.
“I don’t always get everything right,” the rat said angrily, “but I certainly do not actually hurt people.”
“Well, what happened to them, then?”
“There was no pain involved. No fear, no distress. They were simply put on hold.”
“On hold.” Ruth frowned. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“I wasn’t aware that your brothers’ fun quotient was part of my mission statement!”
“Okay.” Ruth looked away glumly. “And what about the red door? You said it would be easy to find!”
“You’re here, aren’t you?“ Rodney muttered, shrugging her off. “So … do you want to have another try?” he asked, kicking the ground and looking bored. “Or not?”
“I’m not sure.” Ruth sighed. “It got pretty hairy back there.”
“Well, I haven’t got all day,” the rat snapped. “Do you want to or don’t you?”
Ruth got up and walked to the edge of the river, trying to think. Would she dare do it again? No. It would be too crazy! But a little voice at the back of her mind was saying, Have another go! You don’t want to go home, do you? If she gave it another try, it didn’t have to be a disaster like last time. She knew more now. She would give Rodney clearer instructions. First off, she had to find the red door; and second, she had to make sure not to get so overwhelmed at the beginning, like last time. She had to keep her head clear and bide her time for a while before she made any judgments.
“I don’t want anything at all to happen to my family this time,” she called to Rodney. “They’re absolutely out of bounds.”
“Done.”
“So you won’t touch them?”
“Absolutely not.”
“And they’ll definitely stay the same, just … without me?”
“Easy.” The rat flicked one paw at her. “They won’t feature in the operation at all.”
“Okay. Then I will have another try.”
Rodney looked animated for the first time since she’d arrived back. He scrambled onto the rock.
“So, Ruth, what kind of family do you want this time?”
She took a deep breath and tried very hard to keep a clear head. “I don’t want any family this time,” she said quietly.
Rodney raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I want to be alone in the world.” Ruth knew this sounded dramatic, but she’d thought it through.
“But why?” Rodney was incredulous.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that family life just doesn’t suit me. It’s too messy and loud, and you have to put up with other people’s silly schemes, bad habits, and horrible ideas, and no one ever listens to you.”
“Remember, there are some things I can’t do,” Rodney cut in suddenly. “I can’t change your age, for instance.”
“Okay.”
“You’re only eleven, so you’re going to need a guardian.”
“Okay, but … I want an ordered, quiet life. No family.”
“Interesting.” Rodney gave her a wry grin before turning his back. He hopped down from the rock and began to pace up and down with his paws clasped behind his back. “Just give me a few minutes. I’ll have to have a hard think about this one.”
Ruth was kneeling in the middle of a row of other girls and it was terribly cold. She was starving too, but somehow being cold and hungry wasn’t in the forefront of her mind. Surrounding her on all sides was the wonderful swelling and rumbling of organ music. She looked down at herself and with a pleasant jolt of surprise realized that she was in a school uniform. Uniform. She had always secretly longed to wear a uniform and now she was. Good old Rodney!
It was a navy serge tunic and blazer with a stiff white collar, a striped tie, and, what’s more—she felt her head gingerly—a hat! (A rather hard felt hat with a badge on it.) She couldn’t see her shoes, but they felt stiff and heavy. She had a moment of panic. What if they gave her blisters? She had never worn shoes that felt like this before.
Her stomach suddenly growled. She looked left and then right. There were about six girls on either side of her and a huge sea of them in front, all in neat rows, all dressed in the same uniform. She didn’t dare turn to look behind because the whole mood was so formal and serious. Ruth felt a pang of excitement. She had no idea where she was or what exactly was happening, but it all felt very special. The girls next to her had their eyes closed and their hands clasped in front of them.
Ruth looked up. The gray stone walls went up forever on either side, with windows right at the top letting in the weak sunlight. But most of the light came from the rounded, domelike space up front. Huge candles were dotted around on what looked like a stage, and above this was an enormous multi-colored stained-glass window. The big window was surrounded by a number of smaller ones. Each contained scenes of people draped in what looked like heavy scarves. There were women holding babies and huddling around looking mournful, and there were men in robes catching fish. At the top of the big window a man with a gray beard was sitting on a throne holding some kind of globe in one hand. Was that God? Was He holding the world? Ruth was fascinated. What did it all mean?
Heavy shafts of red and green and gold light poured down, giving the whole space a wonderful eerie glow. Wow! It must be some kind of church. It was like a different world altogether. She’d had no idea that they could be this big!
Auntie Faye used to go to church sometimes. If only she were here to answer a few questions. Then again, she went to an ordinary little wooden church, which, from the outside at least, did not look in any way like this one.
The girls around her were rising to their feet, so Ruth followed suit. Then they were singing, hundreds of sweet voices joining together in the most amazing harmony.
“Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices.”
Ruth wished she knew the words so she could join in. She was gradually losing herself in the music anyway. All those voices were filling the huge space with sound so rich and wonderful that it felt almost unreal. Imagine this every day instead of crass male voices and burping and farting and arguing! Not to mention that tuneless whistling her father did almost unconsciously. He told her that it helped him think!
“Who wondrous things has done, in Whom this world rejoices.”
Ruth had forgotten how cold and hungry she was. The music was lifting her up, making her feel as if she weren’t a body at all! She had the strong feeling that she was only a breath away from levitating. Never had music affected her like this. Part of her was already floating up to mingle with all that sound and light.
The singing continued and she craned forward. She could see an old man up front and guessed he must be the priest. He was dressed in thick, colorful robes with ornate decorations on the sides and he was singing too as he walked around in front of a big stone table on the raised platform. He was shaking some kind of gold cup on a chain. Smoke was coming out of it, and Ruth got a whiff of something musty and sweet. She couldn’t make out his face, but she thought he must be very old because he was moving so slowly. Occasionally, he raised the beautiful clanking, smoking thing up high and bowed deeply. Each time he passed the shining gold cross on the middle of the table he bobbed right down on one knee, as if he were curtseying.
Ruth dared to look sideways down past the row of gi
rls, first to the left and then to the right. She saw that the walls were lined with individual polished wooden seats and that in each one there was a woman dressed in a strange black-and-white costume with only her face visible. Nuns! They must be nuns. Before this she had only ever seen one or two nuns out in the street, and they had looked normal enough—in plain dresses, sometimes with funny little headscarves. These were like the nuns in the Madeline books. They were covered in long, voluminous black dresses and they had heavy beads and large crosses around their middles. Some of them were quite young. The stiff white stuff around their faces pointed out at odd angles like wings. She had never seen even one nun dressed like this before, much less so many together.
Ruth was intrigued. Thank you, Rodney. You’ve pulled it off this time!
Suddenly, she felt a sharp dig in her ribs. She turned to the girl next to her, stunned to be pulled so rudely out of her reverie.
“Move!” the girl hissed.
Ruth saw that the girls to the left of her had started to file out into the middle aisle and that by standing still she was holding up the line. The singing was still going on, but whatever had been happening up at that front table seemed to be over. Ruth got up and awkwardly turned to follow the girls as they made their way out. But when each girl reached the aisle she stopped to do a kind of curtsey before turning around and heading toward the back of the church. Ruth panicked momentarily. She had never curtseyed before. Should she try? Well, of course she had to. Out in the aisle she hesitated. Which leg should she use? But she stalled a moment too long. The girl behind sighed impatiently and Ruth lost her nerve. She made the mistake of trying to copy the girl who had come out from the row opposite. In the process she lost her balance, toppled over onto the patterned tiles, and hit her head against one of the pew ends. When she looked up, a sea of strange faces was staring down at her, waiting for her to get up.
“You all right?” The girl behind bent to grab Ruth’s elbow and help her up, but Ruth could hear the mocking tone in her voice and pulled away. She scrambled to her feet; the sharp pain on the side of her head as she followed the row of girls out made everything around her suddenly seem very real. So much for the music! She wasn’t hearing anything now. She could hardly even think. The gasps and titters from the other girls made her feel as if her head were filled with mush. She stumbled toward the back doors trying not to look as stupid as she felt.
Outside, it was bleak and windy. Clouds hung low and heavy in the sky. Ruth huddled down into her blazer, watching shyly as girls broke up from their rows into small groups as soon as they left the church. A few looked her over curiously before heading off either on their own or with friends.
The girls were around her age, although some were a little older, but there was no squealing or boisterous chatter, no calling out or omigod-ing. Not one girl was searching frantically for her cell phone, as far as Ruth could make out. She could hear the nuns still singing in the church and wished she were back there with them, more or less invisible and listening to that lovely music.
As the crowds of girls moved off quietly down a paved path toward a group of three-story sandstone buildings, Ruth followed. On either side of the path there were flower gardens, and along the high granite wall surrounding them, some big old trees. It didn’t really correspond with Ruth’s notion of a school, and yet all the girls were in uniform, so that was what it had to be. When she passed a group of older girls—all about thirteen or fourteen—the tittering and laughter became louder and she turned around. Mortified, she realized that they were laughing at her.
The girl who had been sitting next to her in church caught Ruth’s eye. “New girl, are we?”
A collection of friends almost magically formed around the girl, and they moved to surround Ruth, all of them taller and older. “So what is your name?”
“Ruth.”
“And are you a pauper or an orphan or … a miscreant?” the girl sneered. “Or all three?”
“I’m not sure.”
“She’s not sure!” the girl repeated. “Well, little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, have you got a mummy and a daddy? Or is Mummy a fast girl who likes sailors?”
Ruth had no idea what this meant, but the other girls seemed to. They held their hands over their mouths to hold back the sniggers.
“Is Daddy a sailor, sweetie?” The girl leaned over, lifted up Ruth’s thick braid, and dropped it contemptuously. “Are you a little accident?”
“Girls!”
Ruth’s tormenters immediately fell away.
The voice was not loud, but it had the tone of absolute authority. A tall nun had appeared seemingly from nowhere. She held up one hand to stop the tide of girls flowing down the path toward her. Everyone was immediately still and very quiet. Thick beads hung around the nun’s waist, and a wooden cross was tucked into her leather belt. They rattled a little whenever she made the slightest movement.
There were perhaps fifty or sixty girls standing motionless now, waiting, faces expressionless. The nun clasped her hands slowly in front of her chest and peered over the heads of those girls at the front.
“And what is the rule about how we walk from Mass into breakfast?” she asked in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper.
Ruth’s stomach churned. The woman had not even raised her voice and yet almost because of this she was way scarier than anyone shouting. Beyond the walls a car horn sounded, then two twittering birds swooped past. Someone called out a name. But in spite of these normal noises, the outside world seemed far away.
“Perhaps you can answer that question, Marcia?” The nun looked straight at the girl who’d been teasing Ruth.
“We should walk silently from Mass into breakfast, Sister,” Marcia said.
“And why is that?”
“So that we might ponder the mystery that we have just witnessed, Sister,” the girl replied without hesitation.
What? Ruth was intrigued in spite of her fear. What mystery did they just witness? Oh, if only she knew more!
“And what mystery is that, dear?”
“The mystery of Our Lord’s sacrifice as commemorated in the Holy Mass, Sister.”
Our Lord’s sacrifice? What did that mean?
“And what were you doing, Marcia?” The nun’s voice was getting lower and more threatening with each question. Her slimness and her height and her face—the long, perfectly shaped nose, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and full mouth—reminded Ruth of a fashion model but also—Ruth shuddered—of a snake. On a nature program, she’d once seen a snake silently raising its head, getting ready to strike a mouse. This frightening extraterrestrial being draped in black fabric with white starchy cardboard around her face was as beautiful and deadly as a snake.
“I was talking, Sister.”
“You were talking.” The nun breathed the words slowly and momentously, raising her chin, her blue eyes narrowing as she continued to stare at Marcia. “And you were laughing.” She was almost inaudible now. “So tell me, Marcia, why were you talking and laughing, dear?”
“Sister, I was trying to make the new girl feel welcome, Sister.”
Liar! Ruth wanted to shout. But there was a slight murmur of excitement among the crowd of girls. Marcia’s tone was appropriately subservient, but it was obviously audacious of her to give any excuse at all.
“Were you, now?” The nun’s eyes were like slits of blue porcelain, cold and hard.
“Yes, Sister.”
“We’ll talk about that further during recreation this afternoon,” the nun said softly. “Be waiting outside my office at three thirty sharp.”
“Yes, Sister,” Marcia said.
“And bring a pen and exercise book.”
“Yes, Sister.”
So the nun didn’t believe that girl! Ruth thought victoriously. But before she could get too pleased, the nun turned around slowly and fixed that blue stare on her. Oh no. Now the other girls were turning too, and Ruth wished the ground would open and swallow her. She had n
ever been so frightened of anyone. Her knees were shaking. She suddenly knew what it was like to be that mouse, struck rigid with terror as the snake readied itself for the kill. The nun appraised her coolly for a few moments, from head to toe, as though she might be some kind of irksome insect.
“What is your name, child?”
“Ruth.”
“I beg your pardon!” A flush of pink hit those high cheekbones.
Utterly confused, Ruth wondered what she had done wrong. She bit her lip and looked around for a clue as her own face began to burn and her legs got even wobblier. Perhaps the nun had been talking to someone else? But no, everyone was looking at her now, including the nun. They were all waiting, but … for what? What had Ruth done wrong? She had no idea.
“Sister,” a voice behind her whispered. “Say Sister.”
Ruth didn’t dare turn around to see who had spoken.
“My name is Ruth,” she said in a small voice. “Sister,” she added quietly.
“Let us start that from the beginning, shall we?” The nun flashed a cold smile for the benefit of the crowd, and the girls around tittered appreciatively. “What is your name?”
“Ruth, Sister.” Ruth was close to tears. She almost never cried, yet here she was with that clamped feeling in her throat and a terrible prickling behind her eyes only half an hour into her new life.
“Well, Ruth, you do have a lot to learn.” The nun’s voice remained dangerously low. “You are clumsy and ill-mannered. I can only hope you are not completely ignorant as well. This being your first day, I will overlook your transgressions … but remember, we have little patience here for insolence or sloth or uncouth behavior of any kind.”
Ruth nodded mutely, a wave of blessed relief spreading through her. She was forgiven. She smiled tentatively at the terrifying creature in front of her to show how relieved and pleased and grateful she was to have been let off the hook. But something wasn’t right. The nun was still staring at her … waiting. What now? Ruth looked around wildly. What was she meant to do now? Then she heard the soft voice behind her again.
“Say Yes, Sister and then Sorry, Sister and then Thank you, Sister.”
When You Wish upon a Rat Page 11