I stand up and touch the fabric, running my hands over a material that’s red like the feathers of a beautiful bird. The gold buttons send flickers of yellow light around the room, dancing around the ceiling and across my face as Mr. Gregors shakes it again.
“Well, don’t just stand there looking foolish. Try it on,” he says with a grin.
I slide my arms through each sleeve as Mr. Gregors helps lift it onto my shoulders. It’s a mixture of a light blazer and a shawl, and it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever worn.
“Now I know you’ve had a hard week, and I know this was a lot to take in,” he says. “I wish I wasn’t the one to tell you all of this. But this coat is very special, Elimina—a symbol of my absolute confidence in you. You are going to do great things here at Livingstone Academy and beyond this campus as well. Do you understand that? Do you understand how much I believe in you?”
I nod with my lips pressed tightly together.
“You said that a Gutter child is not who you are but simply the place you were born, and I think that’s a tremendous way for you to look at things, especially now. You are not like anyone else here. You are special, and I will do everything I can to help you see that, to help you get Redemption Freedom as quickly as possible. I believe this coat will help.”
“This coat? But how, sir?” I say, staring down at the fabric and the buttons, fingering the outline of the hood.
“The red coat is reserved for Livingstone’s most trustworthy and important students,” he says, guiding me toward the window. “You will be my eyes and ears out there, Elimina. When employers see this red coat, they’ll know that you are the best of the best.”
I watch the students working, sweat dripping through their shirts, my red coat glowing in the reflection of the window, vibrant like the tip of a match.
“Students at Livingstone Academy are happy to be here,” Mr. Gregors says. “And it’s good for everyone if it stays that way. You will keep me and all of the students on campus safe and satisfied. As a Red Coat, you and Louis will maintain happiness, as I like to say.”
“Louis—the one with the red vest?” I say, thinking about the boy from the Fieldhouse.
“Yes. Louis is one of my senior students. He turned his coat into a vest because he’s . . . well, he’s very particular about how things look,” Mr. Gregors says with a laugh. “But I tell you, he’s the best Red Coat I’ve ever had. You will learn a lot from him.”
I think about the fight in the Fieldhouse, and all of the things that he said.
“Will I have to send people to the leashes?”
Mr. Gregors smiles and puts his hand around my shoulder. “The goal—the hope—is always that it never comes to that, Elimina. I, for one, would prefer it if we never needed the leashes at all. But sometimes it’s necessary, and I always leave that up to my Red Coats to decide.”
I stuff my hands in the pockets of the coat. “So, this is my job?” I say. “To be a Red Coat?”
Mr. Gregors smiles. “It’s part of it. But that’s hardly enough work to keep you busy day in and day out. And a busy life is a happy life. Or is it the other way around?” he says, pausing for a moment to think before dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. “Louis works in housekeeping—he’s very good with a needle and thread. But my plan for you, Elimina, is that you will work here, in the office, with Miss Templeton.”
“The office, sir?”
“Well I don’t suppose you can cook or clean?” he says, and when I shake my head, he laughs again. “Don’t worry. Violet is not the domestic type either, and she works here as well, as you saw. I’m certain you two will get along.”
But when I think about the way Violet looked at me when Mr. Gregors wasn’t watching, and the way she handed him the coat, I know that Mr. Gregors is wrong. Violet is not going to be happy about this at all.
4
MR. GREGORS’S ASSISTANT IS A THICK-BELLIED WOMAN with white hair and pointy glasses. She moves around the office in a colorful knee-length dress explaining the filing system and the different kinds of work I’ll be doing while Violet does inventory in the West Hall.
“Let’s just hope Mr. Gregors knows what he’s doing,” Miss Templeton says as she busies about the main office, making room for a second station next to Violet’s, where I can work.
She selects two small packages and instructs me to follow her out of the office and down the main hall, her chunky heels pounding against the floor and echoing off the walls.
“The departments for employment are very important at Livingstone Academy, Elimina,” she says. Her voice is high and wavy, her words rising and falling like a song. “They define all the types of work students can do to prepare for their future. You’ll want to memorize all six of them quickly. I want you to know who runs them and how they like things, and I want you to get real familiar with the students assigned to each department as well. Every student. First and last. You understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, swallowing hard at the thought of knowing all seventy-three students at Livingstone Academy by name.
“Each department is headed by a Department Coordinator—we call them Decos for short. The Decos monitor the work and progress of their students. Most of them are in charge of about ten to twenty, some have more, depending on the department and the work that’s required. There are a few exceptions, of course. But let’s start with all the Decos’ names, shall we?” she says, pointing at the notebook and the pen in my hand, as we reach the top of the stairs.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, ready to write.
“Miss Dora Darling (Housekeeping), Chef Boris McCain (Kitchen), Mr. Timothy Smith (Landscape and General Maintenance) and Mr. Marcus Warren (Agriculture),” she says, speaking a little more slowly than before but not slow enough, as I scribble down the names.
She points out all of their offices as we make our way around the second floor, and I write down the room numbers and any notes about special delivery instructions.
“Never enter Miss Darling’s office. And when I say never, I mean never. Even if there’s a fire and you think you can save her, never go in there, you hear?”
I nod, thinking about my neighbor on Harriet Street who told Mother to keep me away from her house and everything she owned, including her garbage.
“Speaking of never,” Miss Templeton says, moving quickly down the hall, “Chef Boris is never in his office and prefers that all of his things get delivered to the kitchen. He’s made himself a little office there in an old storage space. It’s not much, but you’ll hardly ever find him sitting anyway, so I don’t think he cares much at all,” she says, pausing for a moment before heading back down the stairs. “Do you have any questions, Elimina? I don’t like to say things twice, but I understand you are just starting out, so you go ahead and ask whatever you need to know.”
I pause, looking over the names on the page, pressing my front teeth into my bottom lip.
“Elimina, if you’ve got something to say, best to say it,” she says.
“Umm . . . you said there are six Decos, but . . . I think you only named four,” I say, looking down at the list again and praying I didn’t make a mistake.
Miss Templeton’s scowl loosens and she pats me on the shoulder, smiling like she’s proud. “Well done,” she says. “I do this all the time when I train new students. I get a fair number who can barely get one name down, let alone all four. And I can count on one hand how many have asked for the missing two on their own. I’ve been known to tell Mr. Gregors that it’s just not going to work with some. But I think I’ll keep you, Elimina.”
I smile back at her as she stops just outside the office.
“There are two Decos who do not have any students to train in any official way. Nurse Gretchen is in charge of the nurse’s quarters, monitoring students’ health and managing any bumps or breaks that don’t require a trip to the hospital, which is miles out of town. Did you see her yesterday with Josephine?”
I nod.<
br />
Nurse Gretchen is a sour-faced woman with thick glasses that hang on a string, and when Josephine took me to her office, she barely spoke to me, handing me a cup and nodding toward the washroom, like she couldn’t be bothered with words.
“The other Deco is Miss Ida Mason. She’s a Gutter Deco,” Miss Templeton says. “She handles Aesthetics and Personal Care, and she’s very well-liked by the students.”
While Mainland Decos drive in from the city to work every day, Gutter Decos live on campus, working six or seven days a week, depending on their hiring package, which in Ida’s case includes a living space in the basement of the Main House, next to a studio-office she uses for appointments. According to Miss Templeton, Ida Mason came up through a redemption academy—a place just like Livingstone—and is nearly halfway to Redemption Freedom.
“Which is very impressive for someone of her ilk,” Miss Templeton whispers, and I nod as though I know what ilk means, even though I don’t.
“It’s one of the best kinds of jobs you can get, with room and board all built in. Securing housing can be tricky for Gutter folks. Gutter Decos are a perfect example of the kind of good-paying opportunities that are available to you if you work hard,” Miss Templeton says as she steps back into the office. “You remember that, Elimina.”
VIOLET IS BACK by the time we return, but even when I’m standing right next to her, she barely acknowledges I’m there. We organize files without speaking while Miss Templeton opens mail, so that all that can be heard in the main office is the shuffling of paper.
“Well, well, I can see you two are already getting acquainted,” Mr. Gregors says, stepping out of his office and standing in front of Miss Templeton’s desk while he watches the two of us work.
Violet and I look at one another, then over at Mr. Gregors, smiling with only our cheeks, as though the one thing we’ve agreed on without ever speaking is that we will not be friends.
“I told you this would be a good fit, Miss Templeton,” he says.
“Yes, you did, sir,” she says without looking up from her papers.
“I feel like we should celebrate,” he says, clapping his hands and rubbing them quickly together.
“You know, sir, that’s a really good idea,” Violet says, moving closer to Mr. Gregors. “I was just thinking that since it’s Elimina’s first real day at Livingstone and since she is the new Red Coat, that it might be a good idea for you to introduce her to everyone, sir. Personally. Perhaps you could give a little speech. Maybe at dinner? The students love your speeches, and what a great way to celebrate our new student. Our new Red Coat.”
Miss Templeton clears her throat, arching up her eyebrows and shifting in her seat. But Mr. Gregors claps his hands again and smiles.
“Violet, I think that’s a wonderful idea. Why don’t I take both of you down and we can do it right away over lunch?”
“You’re right. There’s no use waiting, sir,” Violet says, smiling at me with a fake grin. “And while I would like to go, of course, sir, there are some packages that arrived for Nurse Gretchen that I really need to take down to her. I already grabbed a bite from the kitchen before coming. I’m so sorry, sir,” she says, hand to her chest like she’s pretending to be full of regret.
“No matter. Best not to keep Nurse Gretchen waiting. Come along now, Elimina,” Mr. Gregors says, clapping twice more and heading out of the office as I follow quickly behind him.
MR. GREGORS MARCHES straight to the podium at the front of the dining hall, and adjusts the microphone as I stand next to him, shifting from side to side.
“Students of Livingstone Academy,” he begins, but everyone is already staring at my red coat.
I watch Josephine straighten up in her seat, shaking her head and whispering to a group of girls with her hand covering her mouth.
“The best of the best come to Livingstone,” Mr. Gregors says, pausing for effect before sharing a few words about the role of the Red Coat and gesturing to Louis, smiling in a front row.
“Please join me in welcoming a new Red Coat: Elimina Madeleine Dubois,” he says.
No one claps when Mr. Gregors steps back from the microphone, not even Louis. Everyone just stares, and I wish more than anything that a strong wind or an angry tornado would pick me up and take me away.
“Come on now,” Mr. Gregors says, clapping into the mic so the sound booms like a drum. “Let’s give Elimina a big round of applause, Livingstone. Let’s give her a proper welcome.”
Josephine stands, clapping slowly, her mouth tightly clenched. And when the rest of the students join her, standing and clapping slowly, Mr. Gregors smiles and grabs me tightly around the shoulders like his speech was a great success.
I STAY IN the Main House for as long as possible, helping Miss Templeton tidy up the office, and cleaning up the cafeteria when all of the other students are gone. When I arrive in the West Hall just before evening curfew, the Lower Room is quiet and empty, and when I reach the top of the stairs, all of the girls are gathered around my bed.
Josephine and Violet are standing in front, and I squint my nose up at the smell that’s thick in the air, tickling the back of my throat.
“What is that?” I say, placing one hand over the bottom half of my face.
“Well, Elimina, I’m glad you mention it,” Violet says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and placing one hand on her chest. “We all came up to the Upper Room because something at Livingstone stinks.”
The girls part, so I can see my bed. A dead rat carcass is lying in a pool of red, the word “RAT” written on the wall in blood.
I stare at the mess as Violet leads the snickering girls from the Lower Room downstairs, and the girls from the Upper Room climb into their beds. I try not to gag at all the blood and guts. I just wrap the small rodent up in the sheets and run off to find something to clean up the mess with before lights-out.
“Take your time, Elimina. Don’t worry,” Josephine says as I open the closet in the bathroom, searching for a cloth. “You can stay up as long as you want, can’t you? I mean, no one can rat on a rat, can they?”
I look at her for a moment, her own face tight with anger and hurt, as though I betrayed her somehow. As though she didn’t hurt me by putting a dead rat in my bed. I push past her with a bucket of soap, remove my coat, and scrub hard at the wall until the blood is nearly gone and most of the girls are fast asleep.
When the room is quiet and dark, I gather the bundle of sheets with the carcass inside and sneak out the back door of the West Hall. I toss the carcass into the forest and cover the sheets with dirt and ashes at a small firepit, where I sit on an old tree stump and look up at the sky.
“I don’t want to be here,” I say, crying into my arms to muffle the sound.
A SECURITY GUARD and a dog move in the distance, and I lift my head. I feel a pinch in my chest because I left the red coat in the Upper Room and now I’m here at the firepit after lights-out, which is against the rules.
I lie flat on the ground where small pieces of chopped wood cling to my clothes as the guard circles all of the buildings before heading back toward the front gates.
I sit up, ready to sneak back the same way I came. But before I can move, I see Josephine slip out the back door of the West Hall and sprint toward the Fieldhouse, and before she steps in, she looks around like she’s hoping no one is watching her.
5
LOUIS IS WAITING IN THE SUNLIT COURTYARD WITH HIS back against the brick wall, his red vest fitted neatly around his thin frame. It’s been two weeks since Mr. Gregors named me a Red Coat, but Louis and I have barely spoken. “We should talk,” he says, stepping onto the path and blocking my way.
“I have to get to work,” I say, pointing up at the window of Mr. Gregors’s office, where he stands most mornings, watching everything.
“He’s off-site today,” Louis says. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about that. You’re a Red Coat, Elimina. You don’t need to be walking around scared.”
Two girls from housekeeping pass us, shaking their heads, and I lift my chin, like I’ve been doing for weeks, pretending it doesn’t bother me.
“Don’t worry about them either. Believe me, I got far worse than your rat. They’ll get used to it. And so will you,” he says.
“I don’t know if I can ever get used to this,” I say as I move into the shade.
Violet and Josephine barely look at me, and every day, someone in the West Hall leaves a note for me on my bed: “Dear Rat, your hair is ugly.” “Dear Rat, go home.”
“Well, this is all you’ve got,” Louis says. “Mr. Gregors gave you that red coat because he thinks you’re special.”
“I am special,” I say.
“Well, to me you look about as un-special as they come, Elimina Madeleine Dubois,” he says, emphasizing my name with a scowl.
“I don’t care what you think of me, Louis.”
“You know what, Elimina? I think you do. I think the reason you’re moping around this place is because you care too much about what everyone else thinks. And I’m going to do you a favor by helping you out.”
I take a deep breath and lean my head back against the wall, unsure whether I should be annoyed or grateful. I’ve been watching Josephine for two weeks and I still haven’t caught her sneaking out again. Even though I’m still mad about the rat and the letters, part of me just wishes that she would acknowledge I’m here. Because the loneliness is unbearable.
“The fact is, Elimina, I’m in charge when it comes to Red Coat business,” Louis says. “And I don’t want you to screw this up for me. I’ve spent a lot of time being a Red Coat and making things good. So I’ve talked about it with Mr. Gregors and we decided that you’re going to be my Junior Red Coat. I’m going to train you proper.”
He looks up at the sky and nods, bobbing his head and smiling like he likes the sound of his own thoughts, and I wonder if he’s actually talked about this with Mr. Gregors at all.
“You know what? Junior has a nice ring to it. How about I just call you that instead of Elimina?”
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