Tressa felt her face flush red. “Well, they deserved it. You know, it seems like everyone in Top Peake treats each other with respect. If you’re one of the McDonnell’s you treat everyone like dirt. Just because Malcolm McDonnell was voted onto the Council as a common representative five years ago they think they’re better than everyone else.”
Roderick nodded his agreement, “I’m glad you gave it to them today. I’m afraid the lesson won’t sink in though.”
Stepping out into the courtyard the cool evening air of spring made Tressa glad she had put on a lightweight jacket. Her mind wondered as they approached the Dining Hall. She never considered Mr. McDonnell an Upper – just a lazy man who yelled at his kids to be quiet and let him think. It didn’t surprise anyone that his boys acted like they did. Malcolm might be on the Council with all the other esteemed leaders… but that didn’t mean he deserved it.
They only live one level below my family’s house – it’s not like they live over on Whitewall with all the rich families. The families in that neighborhood have always had someone on the Council ever since Top Peake was founded. Most of the kids at the Institute came from that area of town, too. “Good genes,” her mom always said.
“…don’t you agree,” said Roderick.
Realizing she had been a million miles away Tressa stumbled out a mumbled “Oh, yeah, I think so.”
Tressa opened the door to the Dining Hall and was greeted with a blast of warm air that washed over her and out into the cool evening. She and Roderick crossed the foyer and lightly stepped down the three wide stone steps into the great room. Several fireplaces across the rear wall provided the comfortable, homey atmosphere. The aroma of fresh apple pies for dessert wafting from the kitchen eddied around her making her realize just how hungry she was. The shiny stone floor reflected light from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Specks of light from the fireplaces were reflected on the walls from all the silverware being flung around by students telling stories with grand hand gestures, explaining and acting each part.
The room was filled with wooden tables, seating over 120 students. The walls were covered in tapestries that illustrated the most famous stories of Great Tellers. Clumps of friends were at their usual tables and chatted happily with each other. Some students sat by themselves here and there, quietly reading or studying while trying to take a bite from time to time. Lining the front of the room were three large bay windows, each housing an oblong table in separate coves. From those tables was a spectacular view of Lake Rockwell that was trapped in the bottom of the valley that Top Peake was built around.
All the students who regularly sat at these three preferred places referred to themselves as ‘Tablers’. As if they weren’t popular enough – they have to have a special name, too. Tressa thought to herself. I’ve sat over there after leading them to a championship game but the next day it’s like I’m invisible to them, like I’m no longer good enough.
Half a mile across the lake stood the Amphitheater where the town’s Storytelling Festivals were held. Up beyond that, built into the western face of the cliffs, was the desirable neighborhood of Whitewall. It enjoyed the early morning light and avoided the heat of the afternoon sun. All the richest families lived there, but Tressa would never have traded the convenience of its location for the sunsets she experienced from her porch at home high up on the opposite side of town.
Tressa had no usual seat like most of the other students, but occasionally, depending on the sports’ schedule she would sit with whichever team she was leading to victory at the time. She probably would have been invited to join some of the faculty that she liked, but they had their own dining room down the hall.
After the pair put together plates of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and carrots from the buffet line they found seats and sat down. Roderick said, “As I was saying, I heard the teachers talking in the hallway about the selections for next weekend. They all think Mason will be one of the Chosen for sure. It certainly computes as the logical conclusion to me.”
Tressa turned her head to slyly glance over her shoulder at the largest table in the center bay window. Ignoring the McDonnell twins she looked for Mason. Surrounded by friends on all sides, Mason Rockwell happily shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth as his table laughed at the newest joke going around school. Mason was the most popular student at the Institute and the only athlete with more accolades than Tressa. Technically, she still had three more years to catch up to him, but for now he was in the lead. Mason had shaggy brown hair that kept falling across his large, honest brown eyes. Tall and lithe, he could move as easily on the sports field as most people walked down the hallway. Tressa had to admit she thought he was dreamy, and she secretly wished she had the nerve to talk to him, but the possibility of humiliation gave her the shivers.
She turned back around because Roderick had been constantly poking her on the arm with his finger. “I have done a side by side comparison of all the remaining students to figure out who else will be one of the Chosen this year. It is based on weight, height, grades, extracurricular activities, storytelling quality quotients, hair color, age, caloric intake, shoe size, family background and general overall hygiene. Want to hear who it is?”
“Let me guess, YOU?” Tressa huffed.
Roderick’s prodigious brain went haywire for a moment, because he had not calculated the possibility. After a moment, he righted himself and quickly proclaimed, “Nope. You!” and he pointed straight at Tressa.
~
After dinner Tressa stopped at the bulletin board in the foyer of the Dining Hall. She found all the sign-up sheets for next semester’s clubs. Working from one end to the other she grabbed the pen hanging by a string and signed up for the fall semester’s offerings.
She had been a part of the Lake Rockwell Conservation Club for four years. Every month the club took water samples and analyzed them for purity and had even suggested possible improvements to the Uppers about keeping the lake clean.
“Recycle Now!” was a student led group that made sure each family in town was aware of the positive aspects to recycling and how it ultimately helped everyone. In addition to weekly meetings, the group got together several times a year and did a town-wide paper drive to collect unwanted books and newspapers so they wouldn’t end up in the town’s rubbish burning furnace. Tressa was a three year member and had been in charge of the sorting and stacking last time because she could do it in a trailer with just Roderick to help her.
Top Peake in Top Peak Condition had only a few student members but a good number of local construction workers in it. Their mission was to secure and buttress loose rock faces and ledges around Top Peake’s precipitous edges. Tressa had been recruited last year by the adults because she was light, nimble, and fearless, working out on the edges of the cliffs. More than once she had helped Roderick get untangled after he had frozen in fear and locked his hands around his harness. She never mentioned the fact that he had been still standing on the bottom step of the ladder. This was also her favorite club because the work they did would keep accidents from happening to good people. Her father’s parents had been killed in an avalanche years before while he was a student at the Institute.
The very first club she joined five years ago was “Giving Hope and Clothing: Deserted City Refugees”. She had cried during a school presentation when she first heard about the homeless refugees from the Deserted City. They left behind all their homes, belongings, jobs, friends and neighbors when Perpetual Power, shut off the power to their city.
It was as she finished signing the last sheet that she noticed the only other name on each list so far was a chicken-scratched Roderick Chisholm. Tressa sighed, “Why don’t people care? Is it too much to ask to have people help each other?”
“Maybe the rest of us don’t like to deal with smelly old clothes or rotted newspapers like you do,” said a voice behind her.
Turning, she instantly froze and turned beet red as Mason Rockwell looked her i
n the eyes. He reached out and took the pen out of her hand.
“I guess I could try and find Great-great-great grandpa’s bones at the bottom of the lake.” Mason quickly slashed his initials onto the sheet for the conservation club. He knew just M and R would suffice. “See you on the field. We’ve got a big game this week against Brokenstone High. Bring your best game.”
As Mason walked out through the door, Tressa realized that she hadn’t taken a breath in what felt like an eternity. As the air rushed out of her lungs and she gulped in fresh oxygen, two other Tablers walked by giggling at her. “Nice move. Breathe much?” they said.
Chapter 3
Saturday afternoon as she stepped out onto the walkway leading away from the Institute, Tressa looked up the mountainside toward where her house was located. From this view, she could see the faces of all the houses in Top Peake and enjoyed the symmetry of how the houses surrounded the valley, lake and town center. Each house was set back into the mountainside to protect them from more natural disasters; you could only see a small portion of each house sticking out from the side of the mountain.
Some of the homes had been built with space for a small garden while others had large windows all across the front for light and scenery depending on the owners’ wishes. Tressa’s home had a screen porch that extended out over the tier’s edge a bit. Being on the top tier had very few advantages, but scenery was clearly one of them. The rows of houses zigzagged up the mountainsides, with the walkways in front of each row creating switchbacks winding up the mountain. It would take a long time to travel up all the walkways to her house at the top of the mountain.
Tressa stretched out her arms and legs, preparing for her favorite part of going home. Tightening down the straps on her backpack she started up the first walkway that began the long, winding ascent up to her house. Instead of trudging back and forth up the mountainside she began to easily scale the side of the wall up to the houses. She continued like this up the next 30 rows of houses, climbing, scaling, and leaping up all the way. Every so often, she would quietly and swiftly jump from the rooftop of a garden shed to the rooftop of the adjacent house to get to her home faster. She especially loved getting to jump from the McDonnell’s garden shed to their house, without them ever knowing she was up there.
When she finally reached her house, she turned and looked back down at all the homes of Top Peake. She’d always thought it was interesting how the roof of each house slanted in such a way that, from this view, all the homes blended into the mountain landscape. If a stranger had been where she was standing, all they would be able to make out at first glance was the Amphitheater on the lake and the town center in the valley far below.
Tressa turned away from the view and walked into her home, smelling the familiar scent of her favorite meal wafting out of the kitchen. Her mom always tried to cook homemade spaghetti and meatballs at least once a month for Tressa and her sister during the school year. Tressa enjoyed having her own room at school but always found she was more rested after the one night a week she stayed at her home. The time spent talking and being around her mother and sister gave her an anchor to rely on while she spent the whole week surrounded by boys.
“Tressa?” her mom called. “Is that you?”
“Yes mom,” she replied. “How are you? Dinner smells great!”
Tressa’s mom, Gianna Tremaine, came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, and hugging her daughter. Her deep blue eyes held a familiar welcoming look and her dark hair was falling across her eyes. Brushing the hair out of her face, she cocked her head slightly as she looked Tressa in the eyes and replied, “I’m good, honey. Yvette should be along any minute now and then we can eat.”
“Great, because I’m starved,” said Tressa. Her mouth watered with every inhalation of spaghetti scented air.
“Have you heard anything about who might be the Chosen next week? Yvette thought Mason Rockwell would be most of the faculty’s guess. The other spot seems to be up in the air.”
“Yeah, all the students know Mason will be selected, too. I don’t care who else goes this year as long as it’s not one of the McDonnell jerks.”
Tressa’s mom smiled slyly. “From what I heard two of the McDonnell boys aren’t in any shape to go anywhere for a while. They evidently enjoy spending time in the infirmary at the Institute. People are starting to think they may have a crush on Nurse Inez.” Gianna giggled at her joke.
“They’re welcome to spend as much time with her as they want as long as they learn to stay away from me,” Tressa laughed.
Her mom put her arm around Tressa’s shoulder and hugged her again as she said, “I think you’re too hard on them sometimes. You need to go easier before someone gets really hurt, or worse. You’ve got to learn to control yourself.”
“Now you sound like Master Tanaka. And it’s not my fault. They shouldn’t always volunteer when it’s my turn for sparring. It’s not my problem they’re beggars for punishment.”
The door opened and Tressa’s sister, Yvette, came into the foyer and put down some packages. Tall and lean like her mother, Yvette had blond hair where Gianna and Tressa’s were dark. When Yvette saw Tressa she ran over and hugged her. “I heard you got hurt last night. Are you okay?”
Tressa hugged her back. “I’m okay. Gaf just caught me by surprise. I’d like to think they’ve finally learned their lesson, but I doubt it. They’re pretty dumb and clumsy, but I wish they’d just leave me alone.”
The three women went into the kitchen and started to set the table for dinner. Gianna kept working over the cooktop and was busy switching back and forth between a steaming pot of pasta and a large, bubbling pan of spaghetti sauce. The smell of fresh garlic bread was curling up from the oven as Yvette put on oven mitts and pulled out the toasted bread, causing a fresh wave of heat to fill the kitchen.
As they sat down to eat, they all followed an unwritten tradition and sat quietly for a few moments thinking about the empty chair at the head of the table. Tressa’s father, Gabriel, had died when she was 5 years old. He was killed during a freak accident as he saved the lives of several people, including his Storyteller partner. Gabriel was a legend among the Peakians as perhaps the greatest storyteller ever. Tressa could still remember the moment her dad placed the fine gold chain around her neck. It was threaded through a strange circular ring with three small openings in it. At some point the ring must have been part of some old technology. “I found this in a ruined building on your birthday during my last trip. I brought it back for you so you’ll know I’m always thinking of you, and I’ll never miss another birthday.” He had recently been appointed to replace the retiring Chairman of the Storytelling Council, and was on his final journey for Top Peake when tragedy struck, and he never returned.
The family started to pass around the serving bowls and began their meal in the comfortable silence that close families share. They ate quietly for a minute then Yvette nudged Tressa and said, “I heard a rumor that you might be one of the Chosen named next weekend.”
“No way!” Tressa exclaimed. “I’m only 14 years old. The youngest Storyteller ever was at least 13.”
“Yeah… Dad did start off his career at a young age.”
“There’s no way I’m anywhere near ready, and I’ll never be as good as Dad. Even on his worst day. Besides I’m good at everything but speaking in public. Dad was the best.”
Yvette considered that for a moment. “Maybe. But remember, there had never been a girl accepted into the Institute before you either.” Shrugging, she continued, “Besides, the final decision will be up to Fergus anyway. He gets to tell the Uppers who he wants to mentor anyway.”
Gianna put her fork down and looked sharply at Yvette. “I thought you knew I never wanted to hear that name again!”
Yvette looked down at her plate. “I don’t think he’s as bad as you make him out to be. He’s always sticking his head into my classroom to make sure I’m okay, or to see if I need anything.”
Gianna cut her off, “I never believed it was an accident.”
“Mom,” Yvette tried to say soothingly. “The Uppers sent out another mentor and storytellers after the accident and they confirmed it all happened just like Fergus said it did.” Yvette didn’t add that most people felt he only got an offer to be a mentor because of the story he told about how Gabriel saved that group of people.
“They’re referred to as the Storytelling Council not Uppers, and I don’t care what they found out. I don’t think it was an accident. And for the record He was never a gifted speaker – it was the story that got him his position. Most people consider his selection a huge mistake.”
Tressa tried to put an end to it by saying, “Well, it doesn’t matter because it’s Fergus’ decision, and besides, I don’t think I have a chance anyway. They’re going to want someone else like Mason.”
The subject was dropped and they started chatting about what they might do during the upcoming summer break. Both Tressa and Yvette would have the summer off. Yvette had taught several language classes at the Institute ever since she finished at one of the town’s “regular” schools. She had gotten a job there helping in the office sorting papers and, within two months had mastered three new languages. Two months after that she added two more languages to her repertoire, and those two she spoke significantly better than the current instructors. The Council heard about it, and after meeting with her, approved her to teach the three basic foreign languages all students were required to master at the Institute. This allowed her to see Tressa from time to time at the Institute and gave the whole family time off together during the various school breaks.
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