Graceful Waters

SIX WEEKS

“All right, girls, settle down," Instructor Carey said. "Bravo Squad, it seems that Alpha Squad thinks they can beat you. Can they?"

"No, ma'am," the squad said in unison.

"And Bravo Squad is going to show that we know the meaning of good sportsmanship and fair play?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Jan, you're captain. Pick your starting lineup."

The game started off peacefully enough, Bravo Squad taking the early lead and steadily widening the gap as Grace, Jan, and Latisha combined for most of the baskets. When Alpha Squad called a time out, Bravo huddled together near their bench.

"Lauren's getting too many shots off," Jan said. "Grace, you and I are going to double-team her, keep her covered so they're forced to pass to Dawson. She can’t handle the ball worth shit. Mo, you keep her covered."

"Now wait a minute," Mo said, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "Are you trying to say that I suck as a guard so I have to cover the worst player they have?"

"You're faster than Dawson," Grace said. "You'll be able to keep her covered best." She held her hand out. "Bravo ready?"

"Let's go, Bravo!" they shouted in unison, knowing from the look on Alpha Squad's faces that it annoyed them. As soon as the whistle blew, Grace and Jan moved to cover the best player on the Alpha Squad. Where she went, they went, isolating her from the rest of the team. A slap by Mo knocked the ball out of Alpha's control, allowing Latisha to get it and lay it up for two more points on Bravo's side.

"Lay off, Waters."

"Just playing the game, Grenner," Grace said. "Get over it."

"Just back off. You too, Bowen."

"Tell someone who cares, Lauren," Jan said. "Stop whining."

"You'll be the one whining when I kick your ass all over this court," Grenner said.

”You and what army, fat ass?" Jan said. "If Scary wasn't around..."

"You'd be running like a chicken," Grace said, shifting to block Grenner from being able to accept a pass from Dawson. Together with Jan, she kept the heavyset redhead from getting the ball, allowing Bravo to lengthen their lead. When the ball went out near the Bravo basket, Grace stepped offside and readied herself to do something she had seen once at a college tournament. Grenner had her back to her, expecting Grace to pass the ball to Jan or Mo, but instead she aimed for the heavyset bully's back, then stepped into the court and caught the rebound, turning and sending up a shot that was nothing but net. "Yeah!"

"That's not fair," Grenner said, giving her a shove.

"Stop whining, crybaby," Grace said as they readied for Dawson to throw the ball in. A steal by Mo caused everyone to change direction and head down court, but when Grace came to a halt, Grenner did not, tripping over the blonde's outstretched leg and slamming onto the asphalt.

"You fucking bitch," Grenner said, lunging at Grace and knocking her to the ground. The whistle blew loudly as Instructor Carey came running over.

"Grenner you drop for twenty, then sit on the bench. Waters, are you all right?"

Grace rubbed her elbow and glared at Grenner. "Yes, ma'am."

"This isn't some corner lot, Waters. Wipe that look off your face or you can sit on the bench. We don't play street-fighting basketball here."

"Yes, ma'am.” She looked at her elbow, deciding that while the skin was scraped it was not bad enough to require a bandage. She caught Grenner's eye and smirked. Serves you right, you stupid bitch. It's just a damn basketball game.

"You sure no one's coming?" Grenner said.

"Clear," Dawson answered, running back from the double doors. "Okay, help me with this," Grenner said, bracing herself against the side of her stand-up locker. "I'll tip, you reach in and grab it."

"Don't drop it on me, Lauren."

"Shut the hell up, Sally. I'm not going to drop it. Just be ready. This thing's heavy," Grenner said. "On three. One, two, three." She pushed on the locker, tipping it up just enough for Dawson's hand to slip underneath and pull out the sharpened butter knife that had been hidden there. "Okay, I'm dropping it."

"Okay," Dawson said. Grenner dropped the locker, then took the knife.

"Go watch the window," Grenner said.

"You'd better be quick, Lauren," Dawson said. "I don't want to get caught."

"Shut up and watch the window," Grenner said, heading for Jan's bunk. "I'll teach those bitches to fuck with me." The first stab was at Jan's pillow. "How do you like this?" Crude but effective, the sharpened knife cut through the bedding and eventually the mattress, Grenner laughing as the linens were reduced to ribbons. After finishing with Jan's bunk, she turned her attention to Grace's. "Trip me, will you? Make me look stupid in front of everyone? Think you can hit me with the ball and get away with it?" She laughed maniacally as she turned the bedding into shreds. "Laugh at me and get away with it, huh?"

"Someone's coming," Sally warned.

"Shit." Grenner hid the knife in her pants. "Come on," she said, heading for the far door. "We'll hide it in the woods and go back for it later."

"I'm telling you, she slammed me on the mat."

"She did not, Jan," Grace said, reaching for the door. "She put her leg out and you tripped backwards."

"Yeah," Latisha said. "It's not Scary's fault your weight makes you fall harder."

"Come over here and say that, Short Shit," Jan said, juggling her books to free up a hand to take the door. "At least I knew what a simile was."

"But you didn't know what a homonym was," Grace said, opening the door wide enough for Jan to catch, then stepped inside. "Gage loved 'the opposite of homyn-her' though. What the hell?"

"What?" Jan said, bumping into Grace's back. "Oh shit."

"Ooh," Latisha said, drawing the word out. "Someone messed up your cribs bad."

The girls walked to their respective bunks. "Look at this," Grace said, holding up the tattered remains of her blanket.

"How the hell am I supposed to sleep on this?" Jan said, pulling the shredded linens back to reveal the mattress beneath. "Half the stuffing's out of it."

"Same here," Grace said, still stunned by the damage. "Anyone else's bunk hit?"

"No," Latisha said, returning from the far end of the barracks.

"You think it was Lauren?" Grace asked, dropping her ruined pillow.

"I don't know, but whoever it was, I'm going to kick her ass," Jan said, kicking the end of her bunk.

"What happened?" Grenner said as she and Dawson entered the barracks, followed by the rest of Alpha Squad.

Grace caught a glint in Grenner's eyes and knew that her guess was correct. "Like you don't know," she said.

"What makes you think I had anything to do with it?" Grenner said, walking past to reach her own bunk.

"Yeah, I wonder," Grace said as the door opened and more girls arrived. "It's not our fault you suck at basketball."

"You'd better watch what you say," Grenner said, throwing her books on her bunk. "I'll kick your ass."

"Fuck off," Grace said, readying herself for a fight. "I'm not afraid of you."

"I'm gonna jump you so hard your momma's going to feel it," Grenner said.

"Go ahead and try," Grace said, stepping away from her bunk and into the aisle. "Or do you want me to wait while you find your knife? Better yet, since you're too much of a frigging coward to fight someone face to face, why don't I turn around?"

"That's the only way your momma got anyone to fuck her," Grenner taunted.

"Uh-oh," Latisha said, moving away from the two of them. "You shouldn't talk about someone's momma like that."

"Stay out of this, you black bitch," Grenner said as she approached, Dawson right behind her.

"You got something to say, Dawson?" Jan said as she reached Grace's side. "I'll knock your ass back to whatever hole you came out of."

"You dumb bitch," Grace said. "Does your mother even know who your father is, or does he know you as just a squirt after a cheap fuck?" That was all it took for Grenner to snap and lunge at her. They fell back onto the concrete floor while Dawson decided to back away rather than face the bulky Jan Bowen. Grenner landed several good punches before Jan was able to shove her off Grace. Leaping to her feet, Grace readied herself for round two only to be stopped by yelling from near the door.

"Scary and Gage are coming," Lopez said, making a mad dash to her bunk. Grace walked over to her destroyed bunk, trying to slow her breathing down and straighten her shirt, which had become untucked during the melee.

"Does someone want to explain why we're the only ones in the mess hall?" Carey said as she entered. "What's going on?"

"Grenner trashed our bunks, ma'am," Jan said, pointing at the mess.

"I did not," Grenner said, then added, "Ma'am."

Instructor Carey whispered a few words to Gage, who then left the barracks. "Ten hut." The girls snapped to attention. Walking down the aisle, she stopped in front of Grace. "What happened, Waters?"

"Bowen and I walked in and found our bunks like this, ma'am," she said, willing her hands not to curl into fists as her anger refused to ebb. "Grenner did it, I'm sure of it, ma'am."

"Bowen."

"Yes, ma'am."

"What happened?"

"Just like Waters said, ma'am. We were in study hall and came back to put our books away before dinner. Jones was with us. We came in and saw our bunks cut to pieces, ma'am."

Grace watched as Carey walked back up the aisle, stopping in front of Grenner. "And where were you?" the instructor asked.

"Dawson and I were playing one-on-one at the court, ma'am."

"Uh-huh," Carey said. She turned to the other girl. "Dawson? You know nothing about this, right?"

"Right, ma'am," Dawson said.

"Fine," Carey said, walking back down to Grace's area of the barracks. "Report to the mess hall."

Grace looked quizzically at Jan, who shrugged her shoulders. As they were leaving, Instructors Gage and Donaldson entered the barracks and started opening lockers.

"Dinner will be silent," Instructor Mitchell said as they entered the mess hall. "Pick up your tray, get your dinners, sit down, eat, then report to the formation area." Grace picked up her tray and silverware pack, exchanging looks with Latisha and Jan. "Not one word from any of you," the instructor continued, moving a chair to the center of the room and sitting down on it. "I don't even want to hear your forks hitting the trays. I know it may seem impossible for some of you, but you'll survive not talking for a few minutes."

After eating their meals in silence, the girls reported to the formation area where the other three instructors were waiting. "Ten hut!" Carey yelled, startling many of them. "Two pieces of state property were destroyed today, cut up by a knife or razor. Now we've searched your bunks and lockers, but were unable to find it." Carey removed her mirrored sunglasses. "Here's your one chance. Whoever did it or knows who did it, step forward." She waited until the count of three. "I'm not going to begin to tell you how disappointed I am that one or more of you would do this, or that someone is hiding a weapon. Alpha Squad, take a step forward and spread out." The girls of Alpha Squad moved until they were two arms' lengths from each other. "Anyone who commits a crime while here can expect to be treated like a criminal," Carey continued as the instructors converged on the squad. "Hands on the back of your head, fingers laced together, eyes front." The instructors searched the girls thoroughly, going so far as to have them remove their boots lest a small blade be hidden inside.

All four squads were searched, but again there was no sign of a knife or razor. The four instructors huddled and talked at length, then turned to face the girls. "Report to the barracks," Instructor Donaldson said. "Put your bunks back in order, then report to your squad instructor's classroom. Bowen and Waters, throw your blankets and mattresses into the dumpster near the mess hall."

"So what are we going to do?" Instructor Gage asked, settling into one of the chairs in Carey's office.

"I don't know, Sue," Carey said. "It's not like we have spare mattresses lying around."

"Can't we take two from the infirmary?"

Carey tossed her pencil on the desk. "I wish I could, but then we'd be in violation for having less than one infirmary bed available for every ten girls."

"So let them sleep in the infirmary," Gage said.

"Can't," Carey said. "State law mandates an instructor or nursing professional be on site in the infirmary whenever someone is in there."

"So one of us will have to stay in the infirmary with the girls?"

"Every night," Carey said. "Unless someone really gets hurt, and then the nurse could keep an eye on them."

"Carey," Gage said. "I don't want to give up my bed. You know my back hates those cheap mattresses."

"But only one of them is mine," Carey protested. "I shouldn't have to give up my cabin either."

"Think there's any chance we can talk Judith or Marilyn into doing it?" Gage asked.

Carey shook her head. "Not even if we offered them money," she said. "I'll watch them tonight. Tomorrow I'll call and get new mattresses sent up." Carey leaned back in her chair. "It really bothers me that we didn't turn up that knife."

"I know," Gage said. "Unless it's hidden somewhere on the grounds."

"It must be," Carey said. "We turned the barracks upside down and searched every one of them. Unless it was dumped right after the crime."

"I don't know about that," Gage said. "On the street, sure. Knives are as easy to get as candy. Here, though, a knife is too valuable to just throw away."

"Meaning it has to turn up eventually," Carey said. "Let's keep an extra eye on Lauren Grenner and Sally Dawson for the next few days."

"You think they did it?"

"They're as likely as anyone else. Grenner, Bowen, and Waters got into it during PT and the word is that Dawson is Grenner's toad." Carey laced her fingers and put them behind her head. "I'll have Marilyn lean on both of them but I doubt they'll crack. I just want that knife before one the girls gets hurt."

Working together. Grace and Jan hauled their shredded mattresses out to the dumpster while Latisha followed with the blankets, sheets, and pillows. When they finished, the girls joined the rest of Bravo Squad in Instructor Carey's classroom. Knowing the instructors were mad, they sat quietly until Carey arrived.

“There is a weapon being hidden by someone," Carey said. "If you know something, this is the time to come clean." Several seconds passed in silence. "If you think protecting your buddies is the right answer, you’re sadly mistaken." Brown eyes focused on each girl in turn. "If I find out you knew who did this and didn't tell me, I will make you the sorriest girl on the planet." She waited a few seconds more. "All right, Bravo Squad dismissed. Waters and Bowen, stay." Once the other girls were out of the room, the instructor spoke. "Other than suspicions, do you have any proof that Grenner was involved?" Carey asked.

"No, ma'am," Grace said.

"No, ma'am, but she didn't seem surprised by it either, ma'am," Jan said.

"That's not enough," Carey said. "All right. Waters and Bowen, report to the infirmary at 2100 hours dressed for bed."

"Yes, ma'am," both said, getting out of the classroom as quickly as possible.

"So we have to sleep in the infirmary?" Grace said as they left the administration building.

"That's not the worst of it," Jan said. "I broke a rib when I was at Crestwood and they had to have a nurse stay in the infirmary the entire time I was stuck in there. Any bets Scary's gonna be our bunkmate tonight?"

"Damn," Grace said. "Please don't punish me like that."

"You? Scary dropped me twice today."

"Dropped me three times," Grace said. "Getting so I just see her coming and my body wants to hit the floor."

Carey unlocked the infirmary, reaching in to flick the light switch.

"Either of you snore?"

"No, ma'am," Grace and Jan said in unison.

"Good." Carey hefted a roll bag and stepped inside. "Bathroom is down the hall, beds are in there," she said, pointing at the large room opposite them. "You have five minutes each to get done what you need in the bathroom and then it's lights out. Go on, pick out a bunk."

"Lucky us," Grace whispered as she and Jan entered the large room that held the infirmary's beds.

"So if someone's sick, they're gonna put them in here with us?" Jan asked, pulling back the covers on a bed near the window, completely unaware that the instructor had followed them into the room.

"The beds have casters so if we have to move one into a different room, we can," Carey said, dropping her roll bag on the bed opposite Grace's. "But I'll get new mattresses up here tomorrow so it won't be an issue."

"Maybe Grenner did us a favor," Jan said. "That old mattress was lumpy as hell...uh, ma'am."

"That 'favor' will end up costing the state over two hundred dollars per bunk," Carey said, unzipping the roll bag and pulling out a pair of light blue pajamas. "That, when the two of you actually begin working, will be two hundred dollars each of your taxes being flushed down the toilet because of this foolishness. Two hundred dollars that could be used to provide food and shelter to homeless people, books to the schools, transportation and meals to the elderly, or a dozen other good things that would help people instead of being used to replace equipment destroyed for no good reason." She jerked the blanket back, revealing the stark white of the infirmary sheets. "So don't think anyone did you a favor, Bowen."

"Yes, ma'am," Jan said.

"Well, ladies? Don't just stand there, if you need the bathroom, go now," Carey said.

"I'm all set, ma'am," Jan said, crawling between the sheets.

"Me too, ma'am," Grace said. And if not, I'll hold it 'til morning.

"I'll be right back," Carey said, picking up the pajamas and a toiletries kit. "Try not to destroy the place while I’m gone."

As soon as the instructor left the room, Grace went over to Jan's bunk. "I'm going to kill Grenner for this."

"Yeah, who knows how many days it's going to take the stupid state to get new mattresses up here," Jan said. "And we're going to have to put up with Scary or Short Shit."

"This is so bogus," Grace said. "We didn't do anything wrong and we have to spend the night with Queen Bitch five feet away."

"I just hope she doesn't snore," Jan said.

"Fuck," Grace said. "That would be my luck."

"Office of General Services, how may I direct your call?"

Carey had been listening to music for so long it took a second for the words to register. "Yes, this is Joanna Carey, head instructor for Sapling Hill Youth Facility. I need to get two mattresses shipped up here right away."

"Hold please." Click.

"I've been holding," she said to the teeth-grating music.

"Purchasing. How may I direct your call?"

"This is Joanna Carey, head instructor for Sapling Hill Youth Facility. I need to get two mattresses shipped up here right away."

"Hold please." Click.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding," Carey said, leaning back in her chair.

"Purchasing, Miss Dunphy."

Carey decided to save her breath until she was sure she was talking to the right person. Are you the one I talk to about getting some supplies?"

"Where are you calling from?"

"Sapling Hill Youth Facility."

"When was the voucher submitted?"

"I haven't," Carey said. "It's an emergency order."

"You have to submit a voucher."

"How long would it take after that?"

"Miss, there are procedures that have to be followed. What facility are you calling from?"

"Sapling Hill."

"Please hold." Click.

"Argh," Carey growled.

"This is Mrs. Daniels. How can I help you?"

"Mrs. Daniels? I was just talking to a Miss Dunphy."

"I'm Miss Dunphy's supervisor. Who am I speaking with?"

"Joanna Carey. I'm head instructor at Sapling Hill Youth Facility."

Carey hoped having a supervisor meant there was a way to get the mattresses quickly.

"Miss Carey, according to our records, you submitted a rather sizable order just three months ago. Is this something that you didn't receive?"

"No, we've had two mattresses destroyed and we need to have them replaced," she said.

"Were the items lost as a result of fire or other natural disaster?"

"No, vandalism."

"And the items you're requesting have not been approved on a voucher yet, is that correct?"

"Not yet," she said. "But I can fax a voucher to you if you want."

"Well we can certainly add to your fall purchase request."

"You've got to be kidding," Carey said into the phone. "I need those mattresses now, not with the next shipment of supplies."

"I'm very sorry, Miss Carey, but Sapling Hill Youth Facility is budgeted for supplies to be issued once every six months for use during that period. A request for purchase has already been approved and processed for this period. Any vouchers submitted now that are not a result of an OGS backlog or error will be processed for delivery in August."

"August? August? What am I supposed to do with two girls who don't have a bed to sleep in for the next four months?"

"If you would like to submit a voucher for new mattresses for the next dispersal, we'll be happy to process it. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

“Is there any way I can get emergency funds so I can go out and buy the mattresses myself?"

"All purchases must be approved by the General Accounting Office."

"I get the picture," Carey said. "Bye." Hanging up the phone, she ran her fingers through her short black hair and sighed. Another night of sleeping on the infirmary mattresses was just not an option. The remaining choice was only slightly better.

"Ten hut," Carey said as she and Instructor Gage entered the barracks. "Waters, pack your gear into your footlocker. Bowen, you too." Grace moved quickly, packing everything but her uniforms into the footlocker. "All right, you two. Let's go. You have new housing from now until the end of the term."

Oh great, Grace thought as she slung her uniforms over her shoulder and reached for one of the handles for her footlocker. To her surprise, Instructor Carey took the other end. The four left the barracks, Jan Bowen and Gage heading west while she and Carey headed east. "Ma'am, may I ask where we're going?"

"You'll see," Carey said. They walked beyond any area that Grace was familiar with, up a winding path that opened into a small clearing with a cabin. "The choice was between the infirmary or here, and frankly I prefer my recliner to those hard-backed chairs." Carey opened the door of her cabin, then reached for the footlocker. "Go inside, find the kitchen, and sit down in a chair."

"Yes, ma'am." Oh damn, I'm dead. She quickly located the small kitchen and sat down.

Carey put the footlocker in the corner of the living room. "You can change out here or in the bathroom," she said, heading for the bedroom. "Hang your uniforms in the closet in the living room. Give a shout when you're decent."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, going to the living room and opening her footlocker. I'll never survive. She pulled out her sleeping shirt and shorts. My arms are going to look like Popeye's from all the pushups she's gonna make me do. After removing her khaki shirt, she hung it on the hanger, then stripped off her undershirt and sports bra. I'll never survive four months here with her. The pants were exchanged for the white shorts, then hung up with the shirt for the next day. Grace took a moment to look around. Half of the square cabin was taken by the bathroom and instructor's bedroom, while the other half was the living room and kitchen. The front door opened into the living room with the small closet she had used in one corner and a soft blue recliner in the other corner. A tall reading lamp sat on the table next to it, and the couch faced a false fireplace. A simple wooden coffee table took up the center of the room. It was functional but woefully lacking in terms of any personal effects. No paintings hung on the walls; no pictures adorned the mantelpiece. Nice place, but you wouldn't know who lived here. "I'm dressed, ma'am," she said, deciding she had taken enough time.

Carey stepped out of the bedroom dressed in light blue pajamas, the initials JC monogrammed on the breast pocket. "You get the couch," she said, settling into the recliner. "Sit down." Grace sat on the couch. "Rule number one. Don't touch anything unless you have permission, especially anything in my refrigerator."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Two, you don't use the phone or listen to the answering machine."

"Yes, ma'am."

"In the bathroom is the linen closet. You'll find fresh towels there. I'll get you clean sheets and a blanket. Each day, you'll strip the couch down, fold your bedding, and set it on your footlocker."

"Yes, ma'am." This is hell. I've died and gone to hell.

"I don't want to find water on the bathroom floor or toothpaste in the sink."

"Yes, ma'am."

'This..." Carey tapped her hand on the armrest. "Is mine. You can use the couch to sit on."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Did you get all of your homework done?"

"Most of it, ma'am. Everything that's due tomorrow, ma'am." Oh great, here it comes. From now on, I'll be studying and doing homework from the beginning of free time until lights out.

"Your math is all done?"

"Of course, that's easy," Grace said, then realized her mistake. "Ma'am."

"Good," Carey said, standing up. "I'll get your bedding while you get your workbook."

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, waiting until the other woman had gone to the bedroom before rolling her eyes. I am so dead. Reluctantly, she walked over to the footlocker and retrieved her math workbook. Fifty pushups, easy. Setting the book on the coffee table, she returned to her seat on the couch and awaited her fate.

“Here you go," Carey said when she returned to the room. Grace took the blanket, pillow, and sheet.

"Thank you, ma'am," she said, surprised when she saw Carey open the drawer on the lamp table and remove a pair of glasses.

"This it?" Carey asked, picking up the workbook. The small black- rimmed glasses looked odd to Grace, who was used to seeing mirrored sunglasses or nothing at all on the instructor.

"We had to do through page forty-two, ma'am," Grace said, hoping the instructor would see that work was done and leave it at that.

"Really?" To Grace's dismay, her mentor flipped through the pages, stopping where Grace had finished during study time. "So why is yours done through page one-fifty-seven?"

Grace looked down at the carpet. "I was bored in study class and I only had my math book, ma'am."

"Are you bored in math class?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And it never occurred to you to mention this to anyone? Look at me.”

Grace looked up and found herself captured by curious brown eyes. Instructor Carey did not look angry or upset, merely puzzled by her decision. "I um…I figured there was only Remedial Math and regular Math and since I'm already in regular Math..." She shrugged her shoulders. "My homework's always done when Instructor Donaldson wants to check."

"Is she aware you're so far ahead?"

"No, ma'am," Grace said. "She doesn't check my homework anymore. I guess she figures I do it so she doesn't have to check."

"Do you get anything out of class?"

"Not really. I'm usually working way ahead of whatever they're doing," she said. "But I give the right answer when she calls on me."

"When she calls on me, ma'am," Carey said. "All right, it's almost 2100 hours. We'll talk about math tomorrow. You can go to bed right after you do ten pushups."

"Yes, ma'am." Oh yeah, I'm in hell.

The smell of fresh coffee filled the air as Grace slowly woke up. When she opened her eyes, it took several seconds for the unfamiliar surroundings to make sense. With a soft groan, she sat up and rubbed her face. "Morning, ma'am."

"Good morning, Waters," the instructor's voice came from the kitchen. "You have another half-hour before wake-up."

The option of catching more sleep was tempting but Grace did not want to appear lazy. "That's okay, ma'am. I'm up now, ma'am."

"I put a set of towels out for you in the bathroom."

"Thank you, ma'am." After a good healthy yawn, Grace went to her footlocker and removed her toiletries and last clean set of underwear. Guess I'll be at the laundry during first free period. After she set them on the carpet, she folded the bedding and placed it on top of her footlocker. Collecting her things, Grace headed for the bathroom, stopping just before the door. "Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"In the barracks, we have the shampoo dispenser, ma'am," she said, turning to see her mentor standing in the kitchen, a white mug with a multicolored logo in her hand. "Did you want me to go get some, ma'am?"

"No," Carey said. "Use mine for now."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fresh razors are in the top drawer of the vanity. Waters, I'm going to trust you not to need supervision. Don't make me regret that decision."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't lock the door."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hang your towel neatly over the shower door when you're done."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't touch my conditioner or my body oil."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And the bathroom had better look as clean when you leave it as when you went in."

"Yes, ma'am." What do you think I'm going to do? Have a party in there?

Grace stepped into the bathroom, amazed at how bright and airy it seemed. A skylight graced the slanted ceiling and pale yellow tiles allowed the sunlight to bounce all over the room. Opening the top drawer of the vanity, she found the package of razors. I'm glad she's not gonna watch me shave, she thought as she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower stall. It was then that she realized in all the times she had taken a shower while at Sapling Hill, Instructor Carey never had shower duty. Must be nice being in charge. A smile came to her lips as she turned on the water. Of course if I was in charge, I'd volunteer for shower duty.

Steam rose as she took her time scrubbing under nice hot water. A corner bench built into the stall made the perfect place to put her foot as she washed between her legs, being much more thorough than she ever could with others in the same room. For someone with short hair you sure have enough things, she thought, looking at the full shower caddy. Shampoo, conditioner, cream rinse, mousse, body lotion, body oil...guess you believe the commercials. Rinsing her hair, she reached for the shampoo and poured a healthy amount on her hand. Strawberry, nice. She basked in the privacy after a month of community showers for as long as she dared, then rinsed and turned the water off. Nice shower. I could get used to this. Opening the frosted glass door, she stepped on the yellow mat and toweled off. After dressing, Grace looked around the bathroom. A red toothbrush sat in a ceramic holder built into the tile. I'm surprised you don't have one of those fancy electric toothbrushes, she thought, opening the medicine cabinet to find the usual assortment of toiletries. Must not worry about your teeth as much as you do your hair. Beneath the vanity she found cleaning supplies. Well, I'd rather clean one toilet than ten. I'll

probably end up having to keep the whole cabin clean or do her laundry or both.

Grace returned to the living room, unsure now of what to do until morning formation. After putting her things away, she sat down on the couch and laced up her boots.

"Do you drink coffee, Waters?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said, turning to see Carey open a cabinet and pull out a red mug. Real coffee, she thought excitedly, loathing the brown liquid that came from the large urn in the mess hall. Grace quickly jumped to her feet and entered the kitchen. "Thank you, ma'am."

'This is the only mug I want to see you using. Cream and sugar?"

"Cream, ma'am."

Carey opened-the refrigerator, pulling out a pint of half-and-half. "I tried the mess hall coffee once," she said, then scrunched up her face. "Tastes like they filter it through dirt."

Grace smiled. "We figure they use the swamp water, ma'am," she said, taking the pint, putting a splash into her coffee, then handing it back.

"You may be right about that," Carey said, leaning against the counter. "I was on duty on a cutter off the coast of Connecticut and we ended up reusing the grounds two or three times. It still tasted better than the mess hall coffee."

Taking a sip, Grace hummed at how good it tasted. "Oh, this is great," she said, taking a larger swallow. "Ma'am," she added belatedly.

"All right, let's make a deal before you ma'am me to death," Carey said. "Here in the cabin you can skip the ma'am, but you slip up out there and I'll drop you for ten, you got it?"

"Yes, ma'am, I mean yes. A cutter, that's a ship, right?" Carey smiled and shook her head.

"That's one way to put it."

"Were you in the Navy?"

"Coast Guard," Carey said, holding out her mug, which Grace now realized sported the Coast Guard emblem. "And that's enough about me. Now, let's talk about you and math." She drained her coffee mug. "What do you want to do about it?"

"About it?"

"Do you want to stay in math class?" Carey asked. "Or would you rather have free period?"

Grace finished her coffee, surprised at how quickly she drank it. "I don't mind being in class," she said, looking from her empty mug to the coffeepot. "I'll just work some more in the workbook." Taking a chance, she gave the instructor a small smile. "I didn't think it was a good idea to do my English homework in math class."

Carey reached for the coffeepot. "That's probably one of the brightest ideas you've had since you arrived here," she said, pouring the aromatic brew into her mug. "I know I'd drop you for twenty easy if I caught you doing your homework during SR." She held out the coffeepot. "Maybe I should be checking to see if you're really taking notes?"

"Thanks," Grace said, holding her mug out. "I'm taking notes. Ask Instructor Gage. She checks."

"She checks to see if you're taking notes for Sexual Responsibility?"

"Um, would you mind if I...?" She pointed at the refrigerator. "It's part of English class. Note taking and studying. We have to show her that we're taking notes in our other classes. Well, except for Self-Defense. Thanks," she said when Carey handed her the pint of half-and-half.

"So do you want to stay in math class or not?" Carey asked.

"No," Grace said. "I'd rather use it as a free period."

Carey sipped her coffee. "I'll speak with Instructor Donaldson."

"Instructor Carey?"

"Yes?"

"Um... about barracks inspection?"

Carey took a sip of coffee before responding. "Your footlocker is here and you're using the closet as you would the big locker in the barracks. Since you don't have a bed to check, make sure the sheets and blanket are neatly folded and centered on your footlocker." She had another sip. "I'll have to think about what chores I can assign you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Grace took her place next to Latisha. "Hey."

"Man, how did you survive a night with Instructor Scary?"

Looking at the group of leaders, she spied Carey. "It was okay," she said, turning to spot Jan standing behind her. "How'd it go for you?"

"It sucked," Jan said. "Gage snores worse than Campbell."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Wonderful," she said.

“Yeah, and how do you tell an instructor that?" Latisha asked.

“Better figure out a way to make some earplugs," Grace said.

"So what happened with you?" Jan asked.

Grace shrugged. "I can't touch anything. She probably has a fingerprinting kit to check and make sure I don't."

"I'm going to kill Grenner for this," Jan said.

"Save some for me," Grace said. "I thought it was bad enough dealing with Queen Bitch on A schedule when we have two classes with her. Now I have to spend free time with her watching every move I make." She deliberately looked away when the dark-haired woman's head turned in her direction. "See?"

"Just like having Big Brother on your ass," Jan said. "All right, she's looking somewhere else now."

Grace looked back. "More like Big Sister," she said. "Big Sister Queen Bitch from Hell."

"Marilyn, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, Carey," the tall blonde instructor said.

"Let's go in my office," Carey said, leading her down the hall. "I wanted to talk to you about Waters."

"Sure, I don't have my grade book with me but she's been passing the tests with flying colors," Donaldson said as they entered the office.

"Did you know she's over a hundred pages ahead in her workbook?" Carey said as she sat down behind her desk.

"I knew she was ahead, but not by that much," Donaldson said, settling in a nearby chair. "Is there a problem?"

"I'm thinking of releasing her from math and letting her have it as a free period. She can do her math independently and turn it in to you."

"We all had to take classes that we didn't like, Carey," Donaldson said. "If this was high school..."

"If this was high school, we'd have an advanced class to put her in. What are you going to do when she finishes that workbook?"

"I don't know," Donaldson said. "We only have the two math workbooks, remedial and standard. Once she finishes that workbook, I'd be just as happy to have her out of class. Teenage girls with nothing to do tend to be disruptive. Right now she sits in the back of the class, keeps quiet and doesn't cause any problems."

"That won't last if she gets bored," Carey said. "And I bet our chances of getting a better math book for her are just as good as they were at getting a new mattress."

The tall blonde laughed. "It would be startling what we could get done if it wasn't for bureaucrats."

"Amen to that," Carey said. "Whenever you feel like releasing her from class, go ahead. I'll note it in her records."

"She's not going to stop tutoring, is she?"

Surprised, Carey looked up at her. "Tutoring? I didn't know she was. When is this going on?"

"You didn't know? Every time I see her in study hall she's helping someone with their math," the blonde woman said. "I know Jones and Rosetti are both getting help from her, and she might even be helping some of the girls in Judith's class."

"Was this your idea?" Carey asked.

Donaldson shook her head. "Not mine. Maybe Sue had something to do with it."

"Or maybe our little Miss Waters decided to do it on her own."

"Stranger things have happened. Speaking of math, I have to get ready for class," Donaldson said. "You know, Carey, once she finishes that workbook, she'd probably be ready to take the GED."

"She's not eligible," Carey said. "She either has to be out of school for one year or her kindergarten class has to graduate first."

"Yeah but wasn't she a senior? They graduate in June," Donaldson said. "Anyway, I have to go. Are you covering lunch today?"

Carey nodded. "Sue and I are."

"Have fun," the blonde said. "Nothing like a mess hall full of teenage girls to give one a migraine."

"I'll bring my aspirin," Carey said. "See you later."

Once Donaldson closed the door, Carey opened her Rolodex and flipped through the small white cards. Finding the one she wanted, she dialed the number, then opened the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a thick file folder.

"Iroquois High School, Main Office."

"Yes, I'm looking for a Mrs. Hamlin. I understand she's a math teacher there."

"I'll transfer you to the math department. Please hold." Click.

"That's not surprising," Carey muttered to herself.

"Math Department, Mrs. Black speaking."

"Mrs. Hamlin, please, this is Joanna Carey from Sapling Hill Youth Facility. I need to speak to her about one of her former students."

There was a pause. "Mrs. Hamlin is not in a class at the moment. Hold on and I'll see if she's in the teacher's lounge." Click.

"What, no music?"

"This is Deb Hamlin."

"Mrs. Hamlin, this is Joanna Carey. I'm an instructor at Sapling Hill and I wondered if I could talk to you for a few minutes about one of your former students."

"I have so many students that I'm not sure how much help I can be, Miss Carey. Is Sapling Hill the girl's boot camp?"

"Yes. I'm hoping you'll remember this one. Graceful Waters. She's a senior this year."

"Oh yes, I know Grace Waters. Of course, it's hard not to know someone who is forcibly removed from school after throwing a chair at a teacher."

"It's one way to make an impression," Carey said, leaning back in her chair.

"That it is. If it wasn't for her behavioral problems, she'd be a wonderful girl. Very smart, at least as far as math is concerned."

"I see that from her transcript," Carey said. "She's almost finished with the math course we have available for her here and we still have four and a half months of session left."

"What can I do to help?"

Carey sat up. "This is what I was thinking... "

"Oh, bullshit."

"Bite me, Campbell," Rosetti said. "It happened."

"No way. The drummer?"

"The drummer and one of the roadies," Rosetti said.

"Slut," Grace said, dodging a friendly swat.

"Screw you, Waters."

"Viking's coming," Latisha said, closing the door and scrambling to her seat. Instructor Donaldson opened the door.

"Waters."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Collect your things and come with me." Donaldson closed the door.

"Ooh, what'd you do?" Latisha asked.

"Not a clue," Grace said, scooping up her books and papers. "See ya later, I hope."

"I understand you and Instructor Carey talked about letting you out of class?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said as she followed Donaldson down the hall.

"I hear you only have twenty or so pages to go before you're done with the workbook?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I have a test I want you to take." The blonde instructor unlocked one of the unused classrooms. "I'll come get you after class," she said, holding the door open.

"Yes, ma'am." Grace went in and sat down at the desk where several papers were waiting. Turning over the blank cover page, she began filling in the circles next to the answers she thought were correct. She thinks I'm going to finish this in forty-five minutes?

Despite her reservations, Grace did finish it in time, double-checking

her answers as the instructor walked in. "Are you finished?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What do you have now?" Donaldson asked as she took the paper and sat down at the teacher's desk.

"Free period, ma'am."

"You have homework to do?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can do it here as easy as study hall. Get cracking."

"Yes, ma'am." Grace pulled out her English notebook, deciding the test must be a final exam so she could be exempt from math class. So why do I have to be here while Viking grades it?

Completely engrossed in what she was doing, Grace was startled when Instructor Donaldson called her name. "Yes, ma'am?" Damn, give a person a heart attack why don't you?

"Did you take your SATs in February?"

"No, ma'am."

"Why not?"

Embarrassed, Grace looked down at her paper. "Why bother? Even if I wanted to go, I can't afford college, ma'am."

"Uh-huh," Donaldson said, lacing her fingers together. "You know you just took a sample SAT test? Just the math section, of course."

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

"How do you think you did?"

"I think I passed, ma'am."

Donaldson walked over and handed her the test. "I would say so too, Waters. Seven sixty out of a possible eight hundred."

"It was the problem with the exponents and square roots, wasn't it?" Grace asked, flipping through the pages to check. "I knew it. I didn't know how to do that one so I guessed, ma'am."

"The answer is B, by the way," Donaldson said. "You did very well, Waters. Better than most high school students. That's an outstanding score. If that had been the real test, you'd have something to be proud of."

"Thank you, ma'am," Grace said, closing her notebook. "Instructor Donaldson, can I go now, ma'am?"

"One more question, Waters. If you had the opportunity to take the SATs, would you?"

"I guess so, ma'am," Grace said. "It didn't seem that bad."

"Keep working on your math workbook," Donaldson said. "Turn it in to me when you're finished with it."

"Yes, ma'am." Grace gathered her things and left, thinking the test to be a waste of time.

Grace lay in the darkness, listening carefully for any sign that Instructor Carey was awake. Wiggling her hips, she checked one last time to make sure the couch would not squeak and give her away. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her nipples through the thin cotton tee shirt, her lips parting as she felt the hardening beneath her fingers. Oh yeah, that's nice. Keeping her left hand on her breast, Grace reached down and pulled her shirt free from her shorts, then brought her fingers to her mouth. Wetting them thoroughly, she reached beneath the shirt and let out a quiet sigh as wet fingers touched her painfully erect nipple. In her mind, a faceless mouth was pleasuring her, giving her sensitive nipples just the right amount of friction and pressure. The shirt was pushed up, revealing her breasts to the night air. Wetting her fingers once more, she continued to play with her nipples until the need became too much. Pausing long enough to make certain Carey was still sleeping, Grace pushed her shorts and panties down to her ankles. Her faceless lover moved down, touching her in the most intimate of places. Oh yeah. Without thirty-five other girls to possibly wake up and see her, Grace felt safe pulling her knees up and spreading her thighs. Her fingers became the faceless woman's fingers, teasing and pleasing, promising more but holding back until Grace could take it no more. Arching her back, she let out the softest of gasps as she crashed over the edge, frantically rubbing with her palm to prolong the orgasm. Eyes closed, Grace basked for several minutes in the relaxing feeling, her overheated body cooling down and her breathing returning to normal.

Grace jumped when she heard the papers slap against Carey's leg. Looking up, she immediately recognized her handwriting on the top paper. Uh-oh.

"When did you do your homework?"

"Um... during last free period yesterday."

"After AM?" Grace nodded. "Did you read over this before you turned it in?"

Oh shit. Why? "No."

"Apparently." Carey looked at the paper. "How did the attack on Jane Doe move from the park at night to her bedroom during the day?" She tapped the paper. "You said here she should have locked her bedroom door and snuck out the window."

Oops. "I...I must have confused it with one of the other case studies," Grace said. "I'll do it over."

"You turned it in, you live with the grade," Carey said. "There were three case studies assigned; the one with the girl drinking and walking through the park, the woman working late and going to her car in the parking garage, and the woman with the flat tire. Which one of those has a bedroom?"

Grace tried to think fast but nothing would come to her. "I...I guess none of them. I must have been thinking of something someone said in AM."

"Is that your answer?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, wondering if she was about to get dropped for her lie.

"Is there something you want to talk about?"

“No.”

"I can't help you if I don't know what's going on," Carey said.

"There's nothing going on," Grace said. "Really."

"Uh-huh," Carey said. "You wouldn't be here at Sapling Hill if there was nothing going on."

"Sue, got a minute?" Carey asked, motioning the shorter woman away from the mess hall door.

"Be quick," Gage said. "I can hear the din rising already. If I leave them alone for too long we'll have a food fight on our hands."

"Does Grace participate in AM?"

"Sometimes," Gage said. "It depends on the subject. Why?"

"Something she wrote has me wondering," Carey said. "Does she ever say anything about being abused or molested?"

"Waters?" Gage shook her head. "Mention sex in any form and she dams up and stares at the floor until class ends."

Carey looked at the mess hall, the noise inside growing. "Anything happen in AM yesterday?"

"Nothing worth mentioning," Gage said. "Waters seemed preoccupied but participated when I called on her."

Grace was putting her clothes in the washer when the laundry-room door opened. "Hey, Jan."

“Hey," Jan dropped her stack of clothes on the adjoining washer.

"Time to get those whites white and the brights bright."

"I hope you're not calling these bright," Grace said, poking at Jan's rolled-up pair of khakis. "They don't know the meaning of bright around here."

"You gonna hang out?"

Grace reached for the laundry detergent. "You think I'm going to take a chance and leave my clothes where Grenner can get her hands on them?" She poured the liquid in the washer, then closed the lid and set the dial. "With my luck I'd come back and find a gallon of bleach on them."

"I just know she's the one that unhooked the springs on Christine's bunk," Jan said, stuffing her clothes into the washer. "Yet another thing no one can prove that bitch did."

Grace handed her the detergent. "Her and her toadie Dawson," she said.

Jan bumped her. "You know we owe them for trashing our bunks," she said, pouring a healthy amount of soap into the washer. "If I could get that fat ass alone, I'd kick her ass."

"And get yourself put on restriction," Grace said. "Think the instructors are hard on us now? Get caught going after Grenner and see how they can be." She pushed herself up to sit on the washer. "I don't need to give Carey any more reasons to drop me."

"Yeah, well you're not the one who has to wear earplugs to bed," Jan said, hopping on her washer. "Gage dropped me three times last night. Oh!" She scooted closer. "Guess what I found in her bedroom."

"You snooped in her bedroom?" Grace said. "If she had caught you, your ass would be grass."

"You're telling me you haven't looked around when Scary wasn't there?"

"No, not really," Grace said. "I peeked in her room once but I didn't go in or anything." She gave a conspiratorial smile. "So what'd you find?"

“Let's put it this way," Jan said, holding her hands several inches apart. "It's about this long and takes batteries."

"You're kidding," Grace snorted. "That is so gross."

Jan laughed with her. "I told you she couldn't get any. Bet Scary's got a matching one in her room."

"I'm not checking," Grace said.

"Yeah, well," Jan said, swinging her legs and banging the heels of her boots against the washer. "You can't say anything, you know. If it got back to Short Shit, she'd know I was in her room and she'd kill me."

"I won't say anything," Grace said. "If they ever thought we were looking around when they weren't there, we'd be stuck in the damn infirmary until graduation." She smirked. "I get to have real coffee. Not the shit they serve in the mess hall."

"Cool," Jan said. "Hey, did you check out the shower yet? I assume the cabins are the same."

"Of course," Grace said. "You think I've been bathing in the lake or something?" She nudged Jan with her shoulder. "What about it?"

"I mean have you, you know...checked it out?" Jan leaned closer. "Put it on the pulsating head. It's great."

"You mean..." Grace smiled and looked away. "Pervert."

"Well? It's not like anyone else is gonna give it to you here." Jan shrugged her shoulders and banged her heel against the washer again. "Whatever, you'd like it. Gotta take advantage of the few extras we can get out here. Hey, did you catch those stand-up comedians last night?"

"What are you talking about?"

"On TV, they had a four-hour marathon on that comedy channel."

"Oh," Grace said. "Carey doesn't have a TV."

"Too bad for you," Jan said. "Short Shit doesn't care if I watch TV once my homework's done."

"Wanna trade?"

"Short Shit for Scary with no TV?" Jan shook her head. "I'll keep my pair of tens and you keep your queen of bitches."

"Thanks a lot," Grace said. "The only time I catch a break is when she's on late duty and doesn't get back to the cabin until after lights out."