The Academie

by Amy Joy

  “I guess I better wash my hands,” he said, standing up after examining the last plant. It actually hadn’t taken long; there weren’t many plants.

  He rejoined me at the edge of the garden, and we started back toward the house.

  “It looks like your grandfather taught you a lot,” I said as we walked. “My parents only ever kept bushes and a few flowers. I know nothing about growing fruits or vegetables. Maybe you could teach me someday?” I knew someday might be a very long time away, but it was fun to dream and talk about the future as if we’d be together anyway.

  “Love to,” he said. And in the light from the patio I could see him smiling at me as we walked.

  Back inside, he cleaned his hands and grabbed up the keys and money from the counter where he’d set it while we talked earlier. “Guess it’s a good thing we had to come back in,” he said, smiling and holding up the keys. “We wouldn’t have gotten far.”

  We laughed, and I realized how good it felt to be with him. So natural; not forced the way it always seemed to be with others I had tried to date.

  He grabbed my hand again and led me to the garage. I headed for the passenger side door and went to grab for the handle, but he interrupted me, “Allow me,” he said, opening the door. I had never been offered such service before. It took me off guard and I felt silly for a moment. Then I realized how sweet it was.

  Bryan closed the door behind me, ran around to the other side, and sat down next to me. “Okay; ready to see Dublin, Ohio at night?”

  “Sure,” I said, not exactly sure what he meant. I didn’t think the store was far, but I had the impression he was going to take the long way to show me some of the sights of the town.

  “This stuff is all new in the last few years,” he said as we passed a large area covered by shopping centers and restaurants. “A lot of this was still farmland when we moved here.”

  “Ah, and here’s Dublin’s landmark,” he said, pulling up beside a park.

  It was dark, but there was just enough light for me to make it out. “It’s cement corn.”

  “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head. “I guess there used to be a farm here, and the guy who owned it worked in creating corn hybrids. But why they turned his farmland into a field of concrete corn, I have no idea.”

  “People. Wow. We are strange creatures, aren’t we?”

  “Yes we are.”

  “So, that’s Dublin,” he said as he pulled away from the corn graveyard. “Well, that’s it besides all the office buildings that are going in now of course.”

  He sighed audibly. “You have no idea how nice it is to see all this again, and to drive again,” he said, reaching his arm out of the open window to feel the night air blow against his skin.

  I didn’t answer. Soon I’d know exactly how he feels.

  He pulled into a plaza, and I could see that it must be the all-night store he mentioned. As we exited the car and walked toward the store, he found my hand again.

  20. flour and flowers

  Thinking that we must have passed the ten minute mark, I opened one eye slightly, to check on Shara. She appeared to be deep in meditation. Deciding it must not have been ten minutes yet after all, I closed my eyes and found my happy place again.

  “Okay. So, chocolate chips and butter,” I remember Bryan saying inside the grocery store. “That should do it.” But as we headed toward the dairy section, his eye caught something, and he pulled me the other way. The next thing I knew, I was in the middle of the floral department, standing in front of a case of fresh bouquets.

  “Ah yes, I think this one should do,” he said as he gathered up a mixed arrangement with a mini sunflower in the center. “For you,” he said melodically.

  I blushed as I received the bouquet. I’d never been given flowers before and could tell then why people made such a big deal about it. Even though I was right there when he picked them out, it still made me feel so pretty and special to be given something so delicate and beautiful. “Thank you,” I said, smiling up at him.

  He grinned. “My pleasure. Okay, now, what were we here for?”

  “Butter and chocolate chips.”

  “Right! I think this direction then,” he said, guiding us back toward the section beneath the large sign marked “Dairy.” He chose pure butter, which I don’t think I’d ever even seen in a store, but he explained that it was better for you because it doesn’t contain all the chemicals margarines do. “Besides, it tastes way better. Real butter’s the only way to make cookies.”

  I smiled, happy to go along with whatever.

  We found the chocolate chips, grabbed up a twelve ounce bag of the semi-sweet kind, and headed toward the checkout. “Oh wait! I just remembered!” he said, stopping short of the lines, “we better grab a bag of white flour too. My parents only ever stock wheat and I’m sure it won’t be the same.”

  He pulled me back to the isles and after securing a one pound bag, we headed to checkout. I offered to pay, but he simply smiled and handed the cashier the twenty he’d brought from home.

  Back in the car, I held my flowers proudly.

  “Do you know how to care for those once we get them back to the house?” he asked, glancing over at me and my new prize.

  “Put them in water?”

  “Yeah. But first you’ll want to cut off the ends. There’s a special way to cut them that will help them last longer. I can show you when we get home, if you like.”

  I smiled and nodded. He glanced my way as he drove and smiled back.

  When we returned to his house, the voices of his parents in their bedroom down the hall had quieted, so we tried not to make too much noise as we made our way back to the kitchen.

  “Okay, first things first,” Bryan said. “We’d better take care of your flowers.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said, still holding them like I’d won a major award.

  He grabbed a large knife and a cutting board.

  “If you don’t mind,” he asked, gesturing to my flowers, which I passed to him. “What you want to do,” he said, taking the flowers and gently unwrapping them, “is to take each stem, remove any leaves that will sit below the water level, and then cut the end at a diagonal.” He demonstrated as he talked and I could see that he was a natural teacher. I guess that was to be expected, given his parentage. “That will create a larger surface area for the flower to draw in water.” I had stepped close to watch him, and he stopped and looked up at me as he finished, “and it will help them stay beautiful longer.”

  I smiled, mesmerized again by those big brown eyes and by all his knowledge. Never in my life had I met a guy who knew the kinds of things that he did. It made me feel as though for once I could be who I was. I could say anything to him and I knew he’d understand.

  “And then in a couple of days, if you cut off the stems again, it’ll help them last even longer.”

  And apparently, he felt comfortable talking about just about anything with me. My smile grew larger.

  “What?” he asked, blushing.

  “No, it’s great. That’s what I was thinking. This is just…great.”

  “Okay, how about I let you do the rest, and I’ll get out the stuff for the cookies?” he asked, the blush on his cheeks increasing. I took over at the cutting board and hoped I was doing as well as he had explained.

  “So, do you know how to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie?” he asked from his place at the opposite counter.

  “I don’t know, I just always use the recipe on the back of the bag,” I answered.

  “Exactly!” he said, smiling. “Me too. I’ve never found a better recipe.”

  “Oh, but I do have one trick—that is, if you like thicker, softer cookies,” I said.

  “Really? I’ve been trying for years to figure something out for that. Sometimes mine are thick, other times they are thin, and I can’t figure out why.”

  “It’s all in how much you beat it and how warm the ingre
dients get,” I said, proud to finally have something I could teach him. “I never use a beater. I hand mix all the ingredients. Oh! And keep the bowl away from the hot stove,” I added, suddenly remembering. “And wait until the pan has cooled before you put a new batch of cookies on it.”

  “Wow! Brilliant!”

  “And I always cook them on the lowest time setting—and sometimes a minute less—better gooshy than crunchy, I figure.”

  He smiled widely, then turned and began pulling out tools and ingredients. I finished arranging the flowers and turned to show them. “How’d I do?” I asked, showing off my masterpiece.

  “Beautiful!” he replied. “You’re a master.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thanks,” I said, still smiling. My smile was starting to hurt from using it, and I had a feeling my face would be aching by the end of the night.

  I saw that Bryan now had a large bowl and a bag of flour. He ripped open the flour, pulled out a measuring cup, and as he plunged it into the open bag, a giant cloud of white puffed up and out, covering his face and hair in white. I covered my mouth, but it wasn’t enough to contain my laughter.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he said, turning in my direction.

  I couldn’t help it— now I had an even better view of his ghostly appearance, and I let out a “Pa-ha!” loud enough I feared it’d wake his parents.

  “It’s funny, is it?” he repeated, now reaching his hand into the bag as I made to run the other way. He caught up to me quickly and I could feel the pile of white raining down my head and onto my shoulders.

  I stood there frozen for a moment. Then I quickly made my way back to the bag, grabbed out a handful, taking the bag with me to re-load and protect myself, and made my way in his direction.

  “Now Allie, let’s not get crazy here,” he said, responding to my wild grin. But before I’d had a chance to launch it, he’d run up, wrapped his arms around me and tickled me until I released. Clouds of white poured everywhere as I shook with laughter. I could taste the flour and started coughing from inhaling too much of it. Bryan was still wrapped around me and I could feel his body shake as he laughed. He patted my back lightly as I coughed. When the cloud cleared and my coughing ceased, I looked up to find everything around us layered in white.

  “Oh, you are in such big trouble with my parents!” he said in teasing-child fashion.

  “Oh, I’m in trouble? You started it!” I teased back. I eyed the flour bag. “The important question is: is there enough flour left for the cookies?”

  He grabbed it and peeked inside. “I don’t know; it’s going to be close.”

  THUNK!

  My eyes sprang open and I saw Shara lying on the floor, her head against the base of the bed.

  “Shara?” I asked gently, now at her side. “Shara?” My heart began to race as panic set in. She didn’t respond. “Shara!” Her mouth fell open and what little color she had drained from her cheeks. “SOMEBODY HELP!”

  My voice echoed through the empty room.

  21. the voodoo prohibition

  “Are you okay?” Ruby asked as I entered the cafeteria for dinner. The past few hours were quickly becoming a blur.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Shara—“

  “We heard. What happened?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. We were talking, and then we meditated, and then I heard a clunk and I looked up to see her sprawled out on the floor with her head against the bed.”

  “So she hit her head?”

  “I guess….She’s in the medical ward now—or maybe they’ve taken her to the hospital. They won’t tell me anything. They wouldn’t let me stay with her.”

  Stevie saw us standing in the doorway and hurried over. “Are you okay?” It was the first time I had seen her not smiling.

  “Yeah.”

  “She doesn’t know anything,” Ruby answered for me.

  “All I know is that she was out. There was no blood, nothing. I have no idea what could have happened.”

  We met Robert at our regular table. “Hey, girl. How are you holding up?”

  I shrugged.

  “Have yourself a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair and putting his hand on my back to lead in me into place.

  “Maybe you could talk to your sources, Robert? You get in good with the staff here. They won’t tell me anything, but maybe they’ll tell you?”

  “I’ll see what I can do. For now, how about some food? What can I get you?”

  “I don’t think I can eat.” I looked up and saw Shara’s empty seat. “I just wish I knew if she was alright.”

  “I’m sure they will tell us something soon,” Ruby said.

  Stevie tried to smile, but this time it was clearly forced.

  That night I made notes in the journal grandma gave me. First, I tried to recall everything from earlier, trying to make sense of what had happened. When that got me nowhere, I wrote down as much as I could remember about what Shara told me about yin and yang. It was the one thing I had from her, and it made me feel like she might be okay somehow. Surely someone who was alive and with it earlier today had to be okay, right?

  But the next day, she didn’t return. I expected there would be news Monday morning, but still nothing came. Robert asked around, but the staff was tight-lipped. And so we were forced to go off to class with no idea what had become of our friend.

  Through most of my classes, I just sat there. Normally, I’d take notes just to pass the time and make it seem like I cared, even though the material was completely below my skill level. Today, I didn’t even do that. The only class I was worried about was Advanced English. Given everything that had taken place, I hadn’t even thought about the five page paper. That is, until I was leaving science and remembered I wasn’t supposed to head to Developmental Writing anymore.

  I walked to class intending to talk to the teacher and beg for mercy. But as soon as I walked in, I forgot my mission.

  “Matt?” His back was to me, but I knew it was him.

  He smiled and waved me over to his seat in the front row.

  “I heard you were going to be joining us. How’s it going?”

  How’s it going?

  “Honestly? Not good.”

  “Well, it should be better now that you’re in this class. I don’t know how you ended up in Developmental. How’d your paper go?”

  “Paper? I didn’t do it.”

  “What?”

  “I just started the class today. Surely—”

  “Allie, I had to pull some strings to get you in here—”

  “You? Sergeant Conrad requested the change.”

  He laughed. “Conrad? Whatever. Allie, if you aren’t going to do what it takes to be in this class—” He got up in my face. “You’re going to make us both look bad,” he whispered.

  “I can’t believe you. I haven’t seen you in months, and now I get a lecture rather than a hello. Real nice. I missed you too.” I grabbed my books and headed for a desk across the room.

  I noticed Robert then at the center of the room. He nodded courteously and offered the seat next to him. I shrugged and shook my head. I needed to be alone. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and pulled out his textbook and notes.

  Sergeant Roke collected papers shortly after. I held up my hands in mercy as she came around and silently hoped she was the merciful type. She was a manly sort of woman—tall, graying, a severe expression carved into her face. But I had to give her credit: she seemed to know what she was talking about—though I can’t claim to have paid much attention. I was still too angry at Matt and too worried about Shara.

  After class, I took the long way around the room to avoid going anywhere near Matt, and headed to the front of the room to talk with Sergeant Roke. Despite her appearance, she was more understanding than I expected.

  “I didn’t really expect you to have the paper yet, since you just added into this class. However, so you don’t get behind, I need it by Friday. You have an assign
ment sheet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Let me know if you have questions.”

  “Thanks.” I turned to head for the door.

  “And I suppose you need a textbook?”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry, I’ve been a bit out of it.”

  “Yes. I heard about your friend.”

  “You did? You don’t happen to know how she is, do you? I haven’t heard anything.”

  “I’m sorry; I haven’t either.”

  “It’s okay….Thanks. See you tomorrow.” I turned and headed out the door.

  I didn’t hear any news that day, or the next, or the next, or the next. Shara’s things were kept at her bunk space as they were left. People were quiet as they passed the area, as though they were passing a memorial.

  Late Friday evening—almost a week after Shara’s incident, Sergeant Garrett finally made an announcement.

  “Your dorm mate, Shara, will not be returning to The Academie. I have not been given details about her condition, except to say that arrangements have been made for her. As for the rest of you, it is my duty to announce that a new rule has been instituted at all Academie facilities, which you need to abide by from this point on.

  “The rule is as follows: From here on out, there will be no meditating.”

  “What?” I heard someone across the room say.

  “You heard me right. Meditation has been banned by The Academie.”

  “Can they do that?” someone asked.

  “They can do whatever they want,” Garret said. “Listen, if you want to pray, pray. But no more of this meditation voodoo. You hear me?

  “That’s all ladies. Lights out is in an hour.”

  22. dodge ball

  “Hey, I’m sorry about your friend.” Tina said as we got ready for bed. It took me off guard. She hadn’t said anything to me since our last failed attempt at conversation.