Graceful Waters

DAY TWO

Grace kept her eyes focused on the flagpole as the instructors walked up and down the rows of girls. To her dismay, she found herself face to face with the imposing Instructor Carey.

"Two hits for Waters," she said. "No undershirt, laces touching the ground." Grace shifted her weight from one leg to the other and rolled her eyes. "Drop for twenty!" Carey yelled into her ear.

Grace dropped to the ground, fighting to keep her thoughts to herself.

Damn bitch. You think it's so fun to do pushups? Get that tall ass of yours down here and do them and see how you feel, Queen bitch. When she finished, she rose and glared at the flagpole, wishing it would magically collapse and land on Instructor Carey.

“All right, report to the mess hall. Barracks inspection in thirty minutes," Instructor Carey said, and mirrored sunglasses looked in Grace's direction. "I've seen the barracks, and some of you should think about skipping breakfast."

“Ten hut," Instructor Carey said as she and Gage entered the barracks. "Line up at the foot of your bunk. Bowen, sneakers go to the left of the footlocker, not the right. Jennings, hats aren't worn indoors." She stopped at Grace's bunk. "Obviously your mother never taught you how to make a bed," she said, reaching down and ripping off the linens with one firm tug.

Grace watched her bed linens drop to the floor. Damn.

"Make it again," the dark-haired instructor said. Grace reached down and took the sheet, then spread it out over the cot and began to tuck it in around the sides. "Hold it," Carey said, pulling the sheet free. "Watch me. Do the blanket and sheet together. Tuck the bottom in first, then make a sharp corner here," she demonstrated. "Then the sides. No wrinkles and you can bounce a quarter off it."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, thinking it silly to worry about how a bed was made.

"Now you do it," Instructor Carey said, stripping the bunk again.

"Yes, ma'am." Picking up the linens, Grace spread them out over the bed. She tucked the bottom in, then made a less than perfect corner and pushed the blanket under the sides.

"Think if I took out a quarter that it would bounce on that?" Carey asked.

"No, ma'am." Who cares?

Instructor Carey then gripped the top of the blanket and pulled the linens off again. "Now do it correctly."

"Yes, ma'am." Bitch. Grace jerked the blanket up from the floor.

"Ten hut!" The teen jumped to attention, the blanket still gripped in her hand. "You'd better learn to curb that smart-ass attitude of yours, and I mean right now!" she yelled into Grace's ear. "Do it right and you wouldn't have to do it again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm not sure you do, Waters. But you will. Now you drop and give me ten. Now!"

Grace hit the floor. Fucking bitch.

"Count out loud, Waters."

“One," I hate you.

"Two," I hope you get hit by a bus...

"Three," and after they hit you...

"Four," they backup and…

"Five," run over you again…

"Six," I hope I'm driving the bus.

"Seven," Why can't you leave me alone?

"Eight," Fucking bitch…

"Nine," Drop dead.

“Ten, ma'am."

"Now get up and make that bunk properly," the instructor said.

"Yes, ma'am." Grace reached down and picked up the blanket again, this time making sure not to snatch the linens.

"All right, Alpha and Bravo Squads, fall in." Carey stood in front of the group of girls. "The four hours between barracks inspection and lunch are reserved for your physical and field training. On A schedule you'll have PT with me and on B with Instructor Gage. There is more to gain from PT than just sore muscles. You will gain confidence and a sense of accomplishment, both of which are sorely lacking in each and every one of you. How many of you think you can run five miles?" She paused and looked from girl to girl. "Don't all raise your hands up at once. You'll be doing five miles easy before you're through here." Grace rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. "Waters, you have a problem?"

Grace straightened up. "No, ma'am."

"Are you sure? You don't seem happy about the idea of PT."

"PT is fine, ma'am."

"Then it's the five-mile run that caused that little display of attitude?"

"No, ma'am.”

"Then I have to assume your unspoken commentary was for no reason," Carey said calmly as she walked over to the teen's side. "So since you disrupted for no good reason, drop and give me ten pushups right now!"

Grace lowered herself to the ground.

"Do you like doing pushups?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then you like being yelled at," Carey said. "Is that it? Do you need to be yelled at?"

"No, ma'am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then you better adjust that attitude of yours, and quick," Carey said. "Because I'm not going to put up with it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Seven, eight, nine, ten. Now get up and show some respect."

Grace stood up and straightened her cap. Bitch.

"All right, we're taking a nice easy one-mile run, girls. Start stretching."

Stretch this, Grace thought as she limbered up. As soon as the dark-haired woman's back was to her, the teen flipped her the middle finger.

"Man, she's got it in for you," Jan said in a low voice.

"She's a fucking bitch," Grace said. "I'll never make it through this dump if I have to put up with her."

"That's not chatter I hear, is it?" Instructor Carey said, causing all the whispering conversations to stop. "Must be done stretching then. All right, line up and get ready."

"Grace, sit here," Latisha said, moving over to make room on the bench. "Did you see the schedule for classes?"

"I saw it," Grace said as she swung her legs over the bench and sat down. "Any idea what PF stands for?"

"Not a clue, but Gage is teaching it," Latisha said. "I know SD is Self-Defense."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Great, Carey's teaching that one."

"Yeah, another excuse to beat up on us," Jan Bowen said. "Grenner said that Viking Donaldson told Delta Squad that SR is Sexual Responsibility."

"Oh no," Grace groaned. "Don't tell me they're going to do that whole 'be good girls and keep your legs closed' bullshit."

"Sounds like it," Jan said. "What's the matter, Waters? Your legs so far apart they're in different zip codes?" The table erupted in laughter.

"Fuck you," Grace said lightly, unaware of the dark-haired woman coming up behind her. "At least I don't go to the kennel looking for dates."

"Oh no, you didn't just say that," Latisha said.

"Bite me, Waters."

"Naw, I'm trying to cut down on fat," Grace said, drawing more laughter at their table for several seconds before it suddenly stopped and everyone looked at a spot just behind her. She rolled her eyes, knowing that once again she had been caught by the queen bitch.

Carey squatted down so she was eye level with them. "Do you ladies think you can find something more constructive to talk about?" she said, looking around the table and pausing when her eyes landed on Grace. "Unless you would rather write a nice long essay on how incredibly unladylike it is to imply that someone has sex with dogs."

Grace rolled her eyes. Can't you find someone else to pick on? When the instructor walked out of earshot, Grace saluted with her middle finger. "Aye aye, Captain Carey, ma'am," she said, drawing giggles from the girls at the table.

“She's just worried there won't be any Dobermans left for her," Jan added, causing even more laughter. She held her hands up like a begging dog. "Woof woof."

"Oh shit," Latisha said. "She's coming." The girls settled down and did their best to appear interested in their lunches when the instructor returned.

"Why is it that out of all the tables in here, this one is the loudest?" Carey said. "You girls must have too much pent-up energy. I'll tell Instructor Gage to work you a little harder tomorrow during PT."

"All right, settle down," Carey said as she closed the classroom door. "This is the infamous SR on the schedule. SR stands for Sexual Responsibility and for the next five months we will be studying just what that means, and what effect your sexual activity can have on your life." The dark-haired instructor sat on the desk. "Now this isn't high school and you certainly aren't a group of choir girls. I expect most, if not all, of you are no longer virgins. Put your hand down, Jones, I'm not asking if you are or aren't. Now, tell me what you think sexual responsibility means. Waters."

Oh sure, pick on me. "It means being responsible about sex, ma'am."

"Give me an example, Jones."

"Using a condom," Latisha said.

Carey slapped her hand on the desk and stood up. "Next to abstinence, a condom is the single most effective way to prevent both pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. Bowen, give me another example of being responsible about sex."

Jan smirked. "Making sure your parents aren't coming home soon, ma'am."

Carey gave her a mirthless smile that Grace recognized instantly. "Bowen, do you think this is funny?" the instructor said as she slowly made her way over to the girl's desk.

"No, ma'am."

"Well then why don't you take a minute and think of a better answer? Oh, and while you're thinking, drop and give me ten!" Carey's eyes turned and landed on Grace. "Waters, since you think you gave such a brilliant answer, why don't you give us another one while we're waiting for Bowen?"

Damn it, Jan; don't piss her off. "Not going someplace alone with someone you don't know, ma'am," Grace said.

“Good answer," Carey said. "Why?"

Great. Why didn't you move on to someone else? "Because something might happen that you don't want to happen, ma'am."

"Now, Bowen, see if you can condense Waters's long-winded answer into one word," Carey said. "What can happen?"

"Rape, ma'am."

"Nothing funny about that is there, Bowen?"

"No, ma'am."

"Rape is the number one violent crime committed against women," Carey said. "You will be taking self-defense class while you're here, but it's always best to avoid a situation rather than having to fight your way out of one."

Oh, spare us the lectures, Grace thought, slumping in her seat and resting her chin on her hand.

"Waters, when you're in my classroom you will sit up in your seat like a young lady," Carey said. "Now drop for ten. Hathaway, give another example of sexual responsibility."

While Mo, the youngest of the squad, gave her answer, Grace lowered herself to the floor and began her pushups. You witch. You miserable rotten bully bitch from hell. Drop for ten. Drop for twenty. Why don’t you drop for a while and see how it feels? She continued to mentally curse out the instructor, forgetting to count at the same time.

"Waters."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you feeling guilty?"

Grace paused, arms fully extended, and looked questioningly at her. "Ma'am?"

"You've done fifteen pushups. I hate to tell you, but you can't bank them for credit later. Take your seat."

Ah damn. "Yes, ma'am."

"Just your luck you have mentoring with me right after SR," Carey said. "Sit down." The instructor tossed her cap on the hat rack and settled behind the desk. "I said sit." Grace rolled her eyes, then flopped into the chair. Carey jumped out of her seat. "Stand up! That is the last time you pull a stunt like that, do you understand?”

”Yes."

"Yes, what?"

The eyes rolled again. "Yes, Instructor Carey."

"You think people don't notice that little commentary you make with your eyes?" Carey said, sitting on the edge of the desk so she was eye level with Grace. "From now on, every time I see those eyes roll, you'll owe me twenty pushups." She walked behind the desk. "Now, sit down like a civilized young woman should." Grace sat down and watched as Carey opened a folder. "Quite a distinguished record for seventeen," she said, lifting the top page to see the continued list of offenses. "Vandalism, assaulting a teacher, assaulting other students, possession of marijuana, expelled from school." Carey closed the folder and looked at her. "You're on the fast track to the State Correctional Facility for Women," she said, tapping the folder.

Grace shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever."

Carey rose from her seat: "Drop and give me twenty!" Grace moved fast, hitting the floor as the instructor continued to yell at her. "Let's refresh your memory. You will answer and address me as Instructor Carey or ma'am." She knelt down next to Grace. "Do you understand this time?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You will only speak when a question is asked, or if you have permission. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Whether you like it or not, you will learn to respect authority," Carey said. "And for the next five months, each and every day, I am the authority! If I tell you to do something, you do it with no questions and no lip. Do you understand?"

"Yes...ma'am," Grace said, her arms screaming from the exertion.

"Your mouth shouldn't make promises your body can't deliver, Waters. Let's go, seven more." Carey returned to her seat and opened the folder again. "Interesting transcript from your high school. Seems like you went from an angel to the devil reincarnated in just one year. You threw a chair at a teacher?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why?"

"It…just happened, ma'am."

"Committing an act of violence against a teacher isn't something that just happens," Carey said. "I'll ask one more time. Why?"

"He pissed me off, ma'am," Grace said as she finished the final pushup.

"I piss you off too, don't I?"

Grace hesitated, then answered. "Yes, ma'am."

"Did you know Mr. Henderson sent a letter with your records?"

"No, ma'am."

Carey pulled out the handwritten note. "It seems he actually thinks very highly of you. At least he did when he had you for Earth Science during your freshman year. Says here that he thinks you're bright but you just don't apply yourself. In fact, he says he was telling you just that when you decided to throw the chair at him." She tossed the note back in the folder. "Nice way to treat someone who's trying to help you. You have anything to say about that?"

Grace stared at the faceted glass egg. "I don't care, ma'am."

"Well I have five months to make you care, Waters," Carey said. "And if I have to be a boil on your ass to make you care, I will. Trust me."

Grace walked down the hall of the administration building, running into Latisha just outside of Instructor Gage's classroom. "Hey."

"Hey, girlfriend. Where were you?"

Leaning against the wall, Grace turned her head and glared in the direction of Carey's office. "I had my mentoring session with Queen Bitch."

"Ooh, too bad," Latisha said. "I have Mitchell for mentoring. She's pretty cool."

"Lucky you," Grace said, pushing off the wall as others arrived for class. "Come on, we'd better not be late. I don't need Gage on my ass, too."

"Take a seat," Instructor Gage said. "This is Personal Finance. If you think this will be an easy class, you are sadly mistaken. You will learn about managing your income and expenses, how to plan for the future, financing and credit, and investing." Gage paced back and forth in front of the class. "Abusing credit is the easiest way to get yourself in trouble. Letting someone else use your credit is another. If someone asks you to put a bill in your name, get a cell phone for them, charge something on your credit with a promise to pay it back later, you run as fast as you can. Waters, how long does a negative mark stay on your credit report?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Seven years," Gage said. "Think about how long that is. Most of you were under the age of ten seven years ago. Can you imagine paying now for something that happened when you were ten? That's what a negative mark on your credit report is. Bankruptcy stays for ten. As juvenile offenders, your records are wiped clean at age eighteen. You get a fresh start, a new life. When you are irresponsible with your money and credit, there is no magic way to wipe the slate clean. Jones, if a bank approves you for a credit card, would you take it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Latisha said.

"You would." Gage turned and walked back to her desk. "I'm going to ask that question again in a week. We'll see if your answer changes."

“You have a class now?" Grace asked as they left the classroom.

"No, you?"

"No."

“Going to study hall?"

"It's either there or back to the barracks," Grace said. "Any idea who's in charge of that?"

Jan brushed up against her. "No one," she said. "No one knows if we're there, no one knows if we're not."

"No way," Grace said. "They must have hidden cameras or something. There's no way they trust us to just go in there and study."

Jan looked stricken. "You think?"

"I don't know," Latisha said. "But I'm not gonna take the chance."

"I'm with you," Grace said as they started walking down the hallway. "Carey's on my ass enough."

"She sure is," Jan said. "Guess you shouldn't have spit at that fat guard on the bus. Got you pegged from the start that way."

"It wouldn't have mattered," Grace said. "That bitch has it in for me." She touched her shorn locks. "Look what she did to my hair."

"I heard that short girl, Sally Dawson, had to be treated for lice," Latisha said.

"Damn, I'm glad her bunk is down at the other end of the barracks," Jan said.

"Really," Grace said. "She can keep her bugs to herself."

When they arrived at the classroom reserved for study hall, several other girls were already there. "Okay, Jan, what's your problem with math?" Grace asked as they claimed a table for themselves.

"Percentages and fractions suck," Jan said.

"Yeah, like your mother," one of the girls standing near the teacher's desk said.

"Fuck you, Grenner."

"Naw, I wouldn't wanna take that job from your daddy," Grenner said.

Jan jumped from her seat, shoving the larger girl against the desk.

"You got a problem?"

"At least I know what a fraction is, stupid," Grenner said, looking to make sure her friends were standing behind her.

"Come on," Latisha said. "Let's go back to the barracks and study there."

"Stay out of it, vine head," Grenner said. "You too, Blondie."

"You got a fucking problem?" Grace said, moving to join Jan.

"I don't know where you little prissies came from, but if you want to stay in one piece, don't screw with me."

The door, which had been ajar, flew open and the doorway filled with the large blonde instructor. "Well, if it isn't a group of little girls trying to play king of the mountain," Instructor Donaldson said as she entered the room and stood between the two groups of girls. "Let me make it easy for you," she said, her eyes darting from girl to girl. "At Sapling Hill, the only kings of the mountain have the word Instructor before their names, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," several girls said.

"What's that? Waters, I didn't see your lips move."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Yes, Instructor Donaldson, ma'am."

"You just don't know when to shut that smart mouth of yours up, do you? Waters, drop and give me ten pushups. Bowen, Jones, go sit down. Grenner, Dawson, find something to do before I find it for you."

"Yes, ma'am," Grenner said, giving Grace and Jan the evil eye before scooping up her books and moving to the far table. Everyone in the room knew it was not the end of the situation. The only question was when and where the next battle would be.

"All right, ladies, let's get lined up around the mat," Carey said as she moved to the center of the blue padding. "I'm here to teach you how to defend yourself against an attack. By the end of this series, you'll know exactly what to do to get away from an attacker. Now, since you get five minutes at each end of class to change, we're going to get right to business." She shook out her arms, then looked at Grace. "Waters, front and center."

"Yes, ma'am." I'm dead. Grace stepped into the middle, stopping two feet away from the taller woman. Carey walked behind her, then turned Grace to face the others. "When you attack your opponent it's important to know if it's a man or a woman. On a man, there are four key areas, eyes, throat, groin, and knees. On a woman, it's eyes, throat, and knees. Insteps are also a good point of vulnerability, especially if you're being held from behind." A strong forearm wrapped around Grace's throat. "Waters, I'm a mugger. Give me your purse and you won't get hurt. What do you do?" Reaching up, Grace grabbed the muscular arm and did her best to dislodge it, her efforts completely ineffectual. "Now, if I had a weapon, you'd be very unhappy by now," Carey said. "The first thing you do is try and avoid the situation. If that's not possible, decide what's more important, a few dollars or your life. If they want the money, give them the money. Now Waters, I'm a mugger. Give me your purse and you won't get hurt. What do you do?"

"Give you my purse, ma'am," Grace said, wishing the instructor would let go of her and pick on someone else.

"Now I'm not a mugger but a rapist. I don't care about money. What do you do?"

"I try to get away, ma'am," Grace said, the arm around her neck tightening and her body pressed against the solid woman behind her.

"Think you can get away from me?"

"No, ma'am," Grace said, feeling the pressure ease, as the instructor pulled away from her.

"Sit down, Waters. When you are faced with a situation where you are in danger, the ultimate goal is to survive," Carey said. "If the opportunity is there to escape, by all means do it, but if it isn't, or a weapon is involved, your life comes first."

"So we should just lie there and get raped?" Jan asked.

"That's a choice only you can make," Carey said. "But if the choice comes down to being raped or being killed, I choose life. Now, knowing some self-defense moves can help."

"So's carrying Mace," Grace said in a low voice.

"What was that, Waters?"

Shit. "I was just saying that Mace is good for defense, ma'am."

"You think so?" Carey smiled knowingly. "Waters, stand up."

Damn. Grace stood up and moved to the center of the mat while the instructor walked over to a supply locker and opened it, removing a small canister. Great, what's she gonna do? Mace me?

"Any weapon, whether it's Mace, a gun or anything in between, can be turned against you." She tossed the canister to Grace. "It's empty," she said. "But it will work for our purposes. Waters, now you have a can of Mace. What are you going to do?"

Why me? "I would spray it in the attacker's face, ma'am."

"And what if it's windy? Or the attacker is right on top of you? Mace won't work then."

"I'll spray him before he gets too close, ma'am," Grace said.

"All right, we'll see," Carey said. "Waters, I'm a mugger."

Grace gripped the canister, ready to spin and aim it at the older woman's face, but when she raised her arm, it was caught in a firm grip and the teen found herself flat on her back. "Oof."

"Now I have a weapon to use against you," Carey said, holding up the canister that had fallen out of Grace's hand upon impact with the mat. “And now Mr. Mugger is mad. Still think Mace is the answer, Waters?"

"No, ma'am," she said, looking up at the imposing woman.

"Get the idea, Waters?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Instructor Carey stood up and addressed the class. "A weapon is only good if you are the one in control. Why bring something into the situation that could be used against you? Waters, go sit down."

That's it, I'm not saying another word unless Queen Bitch calls on me.

"Any idea what kind of meat this is?" Grace asked, pointing at the oval patty.

"Mystery meat," Jan said, stabbing hers with her fork. "Processed, formed, nutritionally sound, tasteless mystery meat."

"Wonderful," Grace said, glancing around to make sure no instructors were within earshot. "It'll go good with the instant potato flakes and lima beans."

"I think they have someone who knows what kind of food we like and makes sure they never serve them," Latisha said, adding a copious amount of salt to her food. "We can't even get salsa around here."

"I'd kill for a taco day," Grace said, sniffing the unidentifiable meat before taking a bite. "Or ice cream."

"How about soda?" Jan added. "I'm getting tired of milk, juice, and water. And that excuse for coffee they serve is undrinkable."

"Really," Grace said, burying the piece of meat in her mashed potatoes. "Someone should tell those idiots in the kitchen not to use the dishwater to make coffee." Seeing activity at the table where Alpha Squad was sitting, she nudged Jan with her elbow. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but there's Scary Carey," Jan said.

"Uh-oh," Latisha said. "She looks pissed."

"At least it's not at us this time," Grace said. "Look, she's talking to Grenner."

"More like she's yelling at Grenner," Jan said. "Yup, there she goes. Ten or twenty?"

"I know that look," Grace said. "Twenty." She winced when she saw Instructor Carey kneel down to continue her tirade as Grenner did her pushups. "She's really pissed."

"Word," Latisha said. "Ooh, Scary's turning red."

"Do you girls have nothing better to do?" Instructor Gage asked. The teens quickly turned in their seats and looked down at their trays. "That's what I thought."

Grace waited until Gage was out of range. "Damn," she said. "We always get caught."

"At least it wasn't for whatever Grenner did," Jan said. "Look, she's still yelling at her."

"Hey, Grace," Campbell said. "I didn't think it was possible for someone to piss off Carey more than you do."

Grace gave a false smile and scratched her cheek with her middle finger. "I've seen her drop you a few times."

"Yeah, but you hold the record."

"I want to know what she did so I don't do it," Jan said. "Look, she's finished."

"Doing pushups," Grace said. "Queen Bitch is still yelling at her." She took a bite of her food, watching the dark-haired instructor finish her tirade. Just watching those pushups had made her arms ache. I'm glad it's not me this time.

Grace groaned and sat up, the light corning through from the sodium lamp outside providing little illumination.

"Psst, you up?" Latisha whispered.

"We're all up," Mo said from the bunk on the other side of Grace.

"How can you sleep through all that?" Loud snoring was heard from the other end of the barracks. "Sounds like a damn bulldozer."

"I'm up, Latisha," Grace said, pushing off the blanket. "Every time I start to fall asleep, Godzilla over there starts up again."

"Esa muchacha le van a poner una almohada sobre fa cara si no para."

"Lopez, you know we don't speak Spanish," Grace said.

"I say that girl is going to get a pillow over her face if she doesn't stop," Maribel Lopez said, moving from her bunk to flop across Grace's.

"I'll help," Jan said, joining the crowd and sitting on the edge of Latisha's bunk. "I woke her up twice to tell her to knock it off."

"Which one is it?" Grace asked, propping her pillow against the wall to use as a backrest.

"Campbell," Jan said. "Grenner's not too far behind either."

"Be quiet," a voice in the darkness said. "Some people are trying to sleep."

"How is it you can sleep through Campbell's snoring, but our talking is too much?" Jan said. "Shut up and roll over, Rosetti."

"Damnit, there's no way I can handle tomorrow with no sleep," Grace said. "Campbell! Shut the hell up!"

"Wha-what?" Campbell said, her voice thick with sleep.

"Your snoring is enough to wake the fucking dead," Jan said.

"Shut up, Bowen."

"Piss up a rope, Rosetti."

Grace slammed her head into the pillow and rolled her eyes as the bickering continued. "We're never going to get any sleep." The springs squeaked as Jan joined Mo and her on the bunk.

“I snuck a deck of cards back from the rec room," Jan said.

"And just how are we supposed to see them?" Mo asked. "It's not like we can turn on a light."

"Word," Latisha said. "Viking or Short Shit would be on us faster than ugly on Dawson."

"You'd better have those cards back before they do inspection tomorrow," Grace said. "Queen Bitch will drop your ass."

"You mean Scary?" Jan snorted. "I've handled worse than her. A few pushups ain't gonna make me change and be a choir girl."