job is to count down the minutes for every formation, starting at ten minutes before. You have to stand under, uh—hold on . . .” She reached into the back pocket of her trousers, pulled out a wilted pad of paper the size of her hand, and flipped through it. Gabrielle glanced at me.
“. . . under the clock in the middle of this hallway”—she jabbed the air over her shoulder with her thumb—“wearing the proper uniform for the formation.” She ripped a piece of paper out of her notepad and thrust it into Gabrielle’s polish-smudged hand. “You have to memorize this tonight.”
Gabrielle nodded.
“Tomorrow morning go to your clock, stand at attention facing the clock, and wait. And then at exactly ten minutes to six—because P.T. formation’s at six—” She looked at Gabrielle. “You following?”
Gabrielle nodded.
“Give yourself plenty of time to get out there.” She looked at her pad again. “Okay, so you’re at your clock. At ten till, call that out.” She pointed to the piece of paper in Gabrielle’s hand. “There’ll be two other new cadets at the clocks at either end of the hall. You’ll all be yelling this in unison.” Nina shoved the notepad back into her pocket. “Try to stay together. Okay?”
Gabrielle nodded again.
“All right.” Nina wiped her damp forehead with the back of her hand. “You have to do the same thing at five, four, and three minutes before formation. But don’t go back to your room between minutes. Just wait in the hall, facing the clock.” She moved closer to Gabrielle and pointed at something on the piece of paper. “When the two-minute bell sounds, yell this . It’s a little different. Okay? And oh, since the uniform for P.T. is Gym Alpha, you say that here .” She pointed to the paper again. “Okay?”
Gabrielle stared at the paper and licked her lips.
“After you finish the two-minute call, book it like crazy to formation. If you’re late, we both get fried. Okay?”
“I think so. I don’t . . . I mean . . .”
“First Sergeant Stockel said if there are any screw-ups, he’ll chew my butt so bad, I’ll get medically discharged.” She sighed, then stared at her watch. “It’s almost Taps. Look, I’ll try to come by here around 0535 tomorrow morning to make sure that you’re all squared away. Let’s synchronize our watches.”
But Nina never showed up, and even though Gabrielle had lain awake whispering her lines after Lights Out, we had both forgotten. I rinsed off Gabrielle’s discarded toothbrush and placed it in her medicine cabinet. I hoped she didn’t blame me.
“How in the world did we forget?” Gabrielle looked close to tears, and her hands shook as she picked up her shoes. “I could see, maybe, if we overslept. But forget? This really, really sucks, Andi. An unbelievable amount.”
“I know, Gab. I should’ve remembered.” I began to pace around the room, frenetically straightening and tightening—needing to do something, anything, but stand still. I’m so lucky. All I had to do this week as a Laundry Carrier was collect the upperclass cadets’ barracks bags of dirty laundry and haul them down to one of the sally ports for pickup. Then later in the week, I’d deliver the cleaned laundry back to the rooms. No way could that be as bad as calling minutes.
“I guess I was so worried about the stupid P.T. test we have this morning that I couldn’t think about anything else.” Except for cross country team tryouts this afternoon. Actually, the two running events had been the only thing on my mind since last night, when Cadet Daily made his final appearance of the day at Lights Out. “Remember, Davis, tomorrow’s your big day,” he had said. “Tryouts for Corps Squad and the P.T. test. Thought you’d like that little piece of information to spice up your dreams tonight.” After I was sure Gabrielle was finally asleep, I had crept out of my bed to stretch—trying to psych myself up, trying to visualize my pace,
“. . . under the clock in the middle of this hallway”—she jabbed the air over her shoulder with her thumb—“wearing the proper uniform for the formation.” She ripped a piece of paper out of her notepad and thrust it into Gabrielle’s polish-smudged hand. “You have to memorize this tonight.”
Gabrielle nodded.
“Tomorrow morning go to your clock, stand at attention facing the clock, and wait. And then at exactly ten minutes to six—because P.T. formation’s at six—” She looked at Gabrielle. “You following?”
Gabrielle nodded.
“Give yourself plenty of time to get out there.” She looked at her pad again. “Okay, so you’re at your clock. At ten till, call that out.” She pointed to the piece of paper in Gabrielle’s hand. “There’ll be two other new cadets at the clocks at either end of the hall. You’ll all be yelling this in unison.” Nina shoved the notepad back into her pocket. “Try to stay together. Okay?”
Gabrielle nodded again.
“All right.” Nina wiped her damp forehead with the back of her hand. “You have to do the same thing at five, four, and three minutes before formation. But don’t go back to your room between minutes. Just wait in the hall, facing the clock.” She moved closer to Gabrielle and pointed at something on the piece of paper. “When the two-minute bell sounds, yell this . It’s a little different. Okay? And oh, since the uniform for P.T. is Gym Alpha, you say that here .” She pointed to the paper again. “Okay?”
Gabrielle stared at the paper and licked her lips.
“After you finish the two-minute call, book it like crazy to formation. If you’re late, we both get fried. Okay?”
“I think so. I don’t . . . I mean . . .”
“First Sergeant Stockel said if there are any screw-ups, he’ll chew my butt so bad, I’ll get medically discharged.” She sighed, then stared at her watch. “It’s almost Taps. Look, I’ll try to come by here around 0535 tomorrow morning to make sure that you’re all squared away. Let’s synchronize our watches.”
But Nina never showed up, and even though Gabrielle had lain awake whispering her lines after Lights Out, we had both forgotten. I rinsed off Gabrielle’s discarded toothbrush and placed it in her medicine cabinet. I hoped she didn’t blame me.
“How in the world did we forget?” Gabrielle looked close to tears, and her hands shook as she picked up her shoes. “I could see, maybe, if we overslept. But forget? This really, really sucks, Andi. An unbelievable amount.”
“I know, Gab. I should’ve remembered.” I began to pace around the room, frenetically straightening and tightening—needing to do something, anything, but stand still. I’m so lucky. All I had to do this week as a Laundry Carrier was collect the upperclass cadets’ barracks bags of dirty laundry and haul them down to one of the sally ports for pickup. Then later in the week, I’d deliver the cleaned laundry back to the rooms. No way could that be as bad as calling minutes.
“I guess I was so worried about the stupid P.T. test we have this morning that I couldn’t think about anything else.” Except for cross country team tryouts this afternoon. Actually, the two running events had been the only thing on my mind since last night, when Cadet Daily made his final appearance of the day at Lights Out. “Remember, Davis, tomorrow’s your big day,” he had said. “Tryouts for Corps Squad and the P.T. test. Thought you’d like that little piece of information to spice up your dreams tonight.” After I was sure Gabrielle was finally asleep, I had crept out of my bed to stretch—trying to psych myself up, trying to visualize my pace,
Similar Books
