Secret Society

by Robin Roseau

  "Go look," she gestured. And so I rose from the stool and moved to the end of the room. The collection of marbles of each color was large. I stared at them and sighed.

  "You can't tell."

  "No," she said. "And no one peeks into the hat. A few times, someone has squeaked out of her initiate period sooner than intended because all of us assumed everyone else was giving her a red marble. Imagine our surprise."

  I returned to my stool. "And so, I could accept hazing, but I am not obligated to do so."

  "That is correct. You may approach anyone you wish and ask her for a hazing. She may decline, if she wishes, but she will give you her answer immediately. She is unlikely to tell you what will happen. She may involve others. She may not. She may invite witnesses. She may not. Anyone who offers direct assistance in your hazing will give you a blue marble at the next vote. If there are significant witnesses and few participants, then you may ask for additional credit from the witnesses."

  "So if it's a really good hazing, I could end up with all blue marbles."

  "Yes, but I can almost promise you that won't happen at your first several votes."

  "Are there rules about the hazing?"

  "You'll have to trust us." She smiled. "You can trust us to be creative. You can trust us it will be a lot more fun for us than for you. Beyond that, we make no further promises to you."

  "That's not entirely true," said Mrs. Franklin. "You can trust that the number of blue marbles received will be commensurate with the joy we receive from whatever has happened to you."

  I laughed, nervously, but I laughed.

  "I will tell you," said Mrs. Shaffer. "Everyone accepts some hazing. Everyone."

  "I will also say," Mrs. Grafton said. "Nothing we do will in any way involve anyone not in the Order of Circe. You will not discover your car has been stolen, for instance, and feel the need to call the police. There may inadvertently be other witnesses, but we even attempt to avoid that."

  "There's one more promise," Mrs. Shaffer added. "A few of our members keep guns by their bedside. We don't do a thing that might cause someone to reach for her gun. We might come to you in the middle of the night, but we will identify ourselves."

  "So if I hear an intruder?"

  "Call the police and protect yourself."

  I took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly and nodded. "Thank you for explaining."

  "Do you have other questions?"

  "Not at this time."

  "Then I believe it is time to celebrate," said Mrs. Franklin. "And that is more easily done upstairs. Ms. Todd, you understand that Circe business is not discussed outside this room."

  "I understand."

  * * * *

  We ran late. Moods were jubilant. I was somewhat overwhelmed by everything. In one evening I learned about the existence of a secret society, was invited to become a member, and then agreed to I didn't know how many months of toil and torment.

  And I wasn't sure if I could be more excited.

  Claudine, Sylvia, and Liah cornered me at one point. "There is a point of protocol you should know," they told me.

  "Should we move back downstairs?"

  "No. You will find that between different levels, there is formality. Perhaps you noticed that the older ladies use first names for themselves but call us Ms. Todd or Ms. Grafton, for instance."

  I nodded.

  "Technically, you should call all of us formally, but the three of us prefer first names. Do you mind?"

  "No," I said.

  "Good. There are two others you need to meet. Well, you've probably met them at some point, anyway. But everyone else remains Mrs. or Ms."

  "I understand."

  "So, when are you going to ask us to haze you?" Sylvia asked with a smirk.

  "I don't believe I am," I said. "I only owe each of you two and a half hours. When will you offer me opportunities to pay you?"

  "We round up, so three hours," Claudine said. "And don't worry. We'll give you opportunity. But even if you fully pay us, we're not obligated to vote blue."

  "Oh god," I said. "You wouldn't."

  "Of course we would," said Sylvia. She smiled. "But we'll let you think it through. Do you want some advice?"

  "Can I trust it?"

  "Serious advice," she said, sobering. "Honest."

  "Then I'd love some advice."

  "Invite hazing once a week."

  "And be very gracious about it," Claudine added. "You won't be able to laugh about it. Well, sometimes you will, but not all the time. But don't get angry."

  "Am I likely to have cause?"

  "Probably, especially if you're bad at taking a joke."

  I nodded. "I assume I shouldn't just ask the three of you?"

  "No," Claudine said. "Spread it around." She looked between the other two. "If you invite us to do so, we'll haze you all you ask, but I don't actually recommend you do it that way. The other women will get frustrated."

  "And you'll do it together?"

  "Hoping for a three for one?" Liah asked. "It's going to depend upon our moods. You ask one of us, and then she decides what she wants to do. I promise this. If you try to push me at all, I'm likely to be mean."

  "What she means," Sylvia said, "is the safest thing to do is approach one woman and invite her to haze you. Don't say anything else."

  "All right. Thank you. Give me a few days to absorb all this. I'm sure one of you will be hearing from me." I paused. "Really? Once a week."

  Together they nodded. "If you spread it around," Claudine said. "Don't ask anyone more than twice in a month, unless you're inviting a lot of hazing, and don't ask the same four women each month."

  "Thank you for the advice."

  "You know, even if you get blue marbles from us, they won't let you off the hook for a while." Claudine grinned. "You'll be doing my bidding for some time." She rubbed her hands together.

  * * * *

  The Order of Circe wasn't a super-secret society. The day after I accepted their offer, I received an envelope, delivered by messenger. Inside was a short note from Mrs. Grafton.

  "Your grandmother would be so proud of you. You'll want to program these names into your phone."

  And then there was a one-page roster with the names, mailing and email addresses, and phone numbers of 26 women. My name was at the bottom. There was a line between my name and the one above it, and then another line five more names above that. Twenty full members, five junior members, and me. There were ten red marbles sitting in the martini glass now on the mantle in my bedroom. I owed 215 hours of service.

  "I can do that in my sleep," I told myself. Then I tried to say it in a convincing fashion.

  Over the next day or two, I also received 24 more letters or packages. The notes were brief. The shortest was from Dr. Hart. "Welcome. Dr. Alice Hart." But her letter came with flowers, and they were lovely.

  I drafted thank you notes to everyone. My grandmother had taught me well.

  And then I waited to see what would happen. I had clients to satisfy, after all.

  * * * *

  My first opportunity to pay a portion of my service hours came via telephone Saturday afternoon. I didn't recognize the number that called, and so I answered cautiously. "Hello."

  "Ms. Todd?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Mrs. Cooper. Karen Franklin introduced us several days ago."

  "Ah, Mrs. Cooper. It's good to hear from you. Thank you for your kind note."

  "You are quite welcome," she said. "Have you received any other calls?"

  "None like I suspect this one will become."

  "And so, if I required your service this evening, are you free? Do you have a date perhaps?"

  "I am quite free, Mrs. Cooper," I said. "What can I do for you?"

  "My normal babysitter has done something unforgiveable."

  "Oh dear. Should I ask?"

  "Yes. She has acquired something truly disgusting. A boyfriend." I laughed. "My husband
and I would like an evening out. Would you mind watching my children?"

  "You don't first ask if I am qualified?"

  "I'm sure you are."

  "If you have any in diapers, I'm not sure I am."

  She laughed. "No diapers. Derek is eight and Suzie is six. They are both fully potty trained and reasonably well behaved besides."

  "Then I would love to keep an eye or two on them," I said.

  And so I presented myself at her home, a few minutes short of six. I had a bag with a few things to work on after the children went to bed. Mrs. Cooper invited me in and introduced me to her husband and the children. Then I asked if I could have a moment of her time alone before she left.

  "Of course." She pulled me to the kitchen. Once there I asked her quietly, "May I safely ask a question or two?"

  "Yes."

  "What would have happened if I'd been busy tonight?"

  "Then I would have found another sitter, or perhaps I would have asked about tomorrow night. The rule about not asking you twice is if you decline to help when you could. You are not obligated to drop previously established plans."

  "So if I'd had my own date planned?"

  "Then I would have found an evening that worked."

  "Thank you for explaining. Is there anything special I should know about the kids?"

  * * * *

  The kids and I had a nice time, and they were just as well behaved as Mrs. Cooper had suggested. She'd already fed them dinner. We played a couple of games, then it was time to help them get ready for bed. I read to them both then tucked them in.

  The Coopers arrived home about 11:30, both looking quite relaxed. I received thanks from Mr. Cooper and a warm, lasting hug from Mrs. Cooper. "Thank you," she whispered. "We really needed that time together."

  "I'm happy to help."

  We separated and she looked at me carefully. "You may safely say 'no' to this, and I won't hold it against you."

  "All right," I said cautiously.

  "Could you do an overnight?"

  "Tonight?"

  "No." She smiled. "Some time when you owe me at least twelve hours. But it would be at your home."

  I laughed. "Is that likely to happen? I'm down to four and a half, and I hope to pay you off by the end of the month."

  "Perhaps not." She shrugged. "Unless you annoy someone, there won't be a vote scheduled -- not for at least another month. But if you want to work off your time, how about one night again next weekend. You can let me know Thursday after everyone else has had a chance at you."

  I smiled. "That would be perfect. And yes, if it came to it, I could do an overnight, but I would want you to stop by and make sure my house is safe for young children."

  "Maybe in a couple of months. If you don't owe me the time, I might buy some of your time from someone else. Some of the women never use the time themselves, and so you pay them through the normal projects you do."

  "May I ask one more question?" I relayed the advice I'd received about hazing. "Would you care to comment?"

  "They aren't trying to trick you. We're all willing to tease, but we're a support organization. None of us would dream of ever giving you bad advice. Not every one of us would have offered the same advice, but it's not necessarily poor advice."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Cooper."

  * * * *

  I didn't immediately ask for hazing. But over the next two weeks, I did babysit for Mrs. Cooper -- Thursday night rather than over the weekend. I spent ten hours spread across three small projects for various members. Liah called and asked for ten hours of marketing on behalf of State Senator Marsha Adams.

  "You haven't asked me for yourself."

  "You haven't invited any hazing yet, either."

  "That you know about," I replied.

  She laughed. "Unless you did it in the last ten minutes, I'd know."

  "Are you telling me you're not going to let me pay you unless I invite you to haze me?"

  "No." She paused. "You need to do something soon."

  I stilled. "You know something I don't. Is there a vote scheduled already?"

  "No. You would be told at the same time as the rest of us. However, some of the women love the hazing, and if you aren't getting hazed, they're going to scare you."

  "By scheduling a vote when I still owe most of you time."

  "Yes."

  "Is there anyone in particular whom I should perhaps ask first?"

  "Not necessarily. However, don't ask Sylvia first."

  "Is this some sort of competition between you?"

  "No, but you don't want hers first. Trust me."

  "Oh god. All right. I'm not asking you first, either."

  "Chicken."

  "I might ask the Senator."

  She laughed. "You'll have paid her off, and she doesn't have time. Soon, Blythe."

  "I will."

  * * * *

  I sat on it for two more days before I called Mary Ellen Hankins. "Ms. Hankins, it's Blythe Todd."

  "Ah, Ms. Todd. It's good to hear your voice." She invited small talk for a minute or two before asking the purpose of my call.

  "I was wondering whether you would like to be the first to haze me."

  She began to laugh. "Oh, Claudine is going to be so annoyed you didn't call her first."

  "Have I made a strategic mistake?"

  "Oh, half the women want to go first. There will be much discussion why you asked me. I would love to offer your first hazing, Blythe. And until I have, you may call me Mary Ellen." She laughed. "You know, I haven't any idea at all what I'm going to do. I don't want to copy anything anyone else has done or repeat the few I've done in the past."

  "You're a creative person. I have faith in you."

  She laughed. "Oh, so you ask me to rise to the challenge."

  "Oh no," I said. "I wouldn't want you to go to any extra effort on my part."

  That generated another laugh. "Actually, you do."

  "Oh?"

  "The better it is, the more blue marbles you'll get. And you'll make up for waiting three weeks before inviting this."

  "Should I quickly ask for two more?"

  "No. But you might want to ask someone the day after I get you. I might need a few days, but I'll make sure everyone knows you asked."

  "Thank you, Mary Ellen."

  "Make Claudine wait," she added. "When you finally ask her, it will be really quite clever."

  "More blue marbles."

  "You're going to learn to covet blue marbles," she replied.

  We clicked off a few minutes later.

  * * * *

  She did, indeed, require a few days. In the meantime, I continued to work and pay the debts I could. The third week ended, and I had paid fifty of the hours I owed. If anyone asked for a vote after the first month, I was going to accrue a great deal of additional debt.

  It was still January, and a cold snap arrived, with temperatures dropping well below zero, especially at night. The next day, I was sent to the grocery store for Wilba Everest. I returned to my car in the parking lot to find my car covered in ice. I stared at it. I'd only been inside for a half hour, and the skies were clear, the air deeply cold.

  "What the hell?"

  It wasn't absolutely the entire car. But it was the windshield, both exterior mirrors, both front windows, the back window, and the door handles so well I couldn't open any of the doors. And the ground around the car was icy, but someone had spread kitty litter around, and so I had traction.

  That was when I realized it had been intentional.

  My phone rang. I pulled it from my purse while staring at my car.

  "Hello, Ms. Todd."

  "Ms. Hankins," I said.

  She giggled. "Did you receive an icy reception tonight?"

  "I was just figuring out this was you," I replied. "Um. I have eggs here. Am I going to have to break a window to get them to Mrs. Everest?"

  "We left you a way in," she said. "I wonder if you'll find it." She giggled again. "And of course,
we're filming."

  I looked around, but I didn't see a single soul. She laughed in my ear again.

  "Is the kitty litter yours?"

  "One of my compatriots thought of that," she said. "She had to run in and buy it when we realized how slick it was around your car."

  "Thank her for me, will you?"

  "Of course."

  "And Mrs. Hankins?"

  "Yes, Ms. Todd?"

  "Good one."

  "I'm glad you like it."

  It took me only a few more minutes to discover the entrance to my car, and that was half by accident. I opened the trunk to set the groceries somewhere safer than the ground, and that was when I realized my entrance. It was through the trunk. The back seats could fold down, so I could crawl through the trunk, into the back seat, and then from there to the front seat.

  So I did that, leaving the trunk lid open so I could see. But then when I tried to open the doors from the inside to go close the trunk, I still couldn't budge them. My phone rang again, and this time, all I heard was laughing.

  "I wouldn't suppose you're going to close my trunk for me?"

  "Not a chance," someone said. It wasn't Mary Ellen. "And we're going to have fun watching you figure out how to get back out of the car at Mrs. Everest's."

  "Oh god," I said.

  So I crawled into the back, pulled the groceries out of the trunk and to the middle seats, and then flipped the seats back up. I crawled back into the driver's seat, started the car, and turned the defroster on high. Then I stared.

  My phone rang again.

  "The windshield will take hours to melt." There was more laughter, and then they clicked off.

  My scraper was nowhere to be found.

  I crawled back out of the car carrying my purse then looked around for anyone else who might have a window scraper. Seeing none, I went after the ice on the windshield first with my gloved hands, and then I remembered you can use a credit card to scrap windows.

  It took me twenty minutes to clear enough ice I thought I could drive safely.

  I crawled back in, leaving the trunk open. And then I drove very carefully to Mrs. Everest's. Halfway there I went over a bump, and I heard my trunk bounce up then come down hard, latching.

  Twenty seconds later, my phone rang. "Nice try." More laughter.

  "Are you following me?"

  "Of course we are." She clicked off.