that?"
Cinnamon smirked.
"Our Honey here doesn't exactly radiate sexual sophistication."
She stared at me a moment and then asked. "What are you going to do if your boyfriend wants to make love-- tell him it's bad for your career?'
"I don't know. I'm confused."
"Talk about invading someone's space. Maybe she's just weird. Maybe she's lost it since her daughter's death or something. Maybe we're coming to this school too late." Cinnamon rattled off.
Everyone was lost in her own thoughts for a while.
Then Ice turned her head to the side and said. "Well, look atthat."
"What?" Cinnamon said, her voice testy. I really regretted revealing what Madame Senetsky, had said to me now.
Ice nodded at the rear of the mansion. From where we sat, we could see it well.
"What?" Rose asked. squinting. The sunlight was reflecting off windows and the walls.
"That door. It's all barred up. It looks like a prison door or something," Ice said.
"Yes, it does," Cinnamon agreed. "Let's take a closer look."
She started across the grass. Rose and Ice following. I got up and joined them. As we drew closer, it was clear it was a heavily barred door. The windows in the rear looked barred as well.
"Some security," Rose said.
"Why?" Cinnamon turned around. "Look at this place, with its high gate, its video security and alarms. It's not exactly a burglar's dream.'
"This would take us through the rear of the building," Ice remarked.
"I guess Ms. Fairchild wasn't exaggerating when she emphasized how we should keep from entering this portion of the mansion," Rose said.
"What did she think we would do, take a saw to these iron bars?" Cinnamon asked.
"Can I help you?" we heard, and turned to see a short, stout groundsman with heavily curled dark brown hair. His shirt sleeves were rolled up over his bulging forearms and he held a pair of clipping shears pointed at us. His face was dark, and made darker by his unshaven cheeks and chin. Instinctively. I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped back. Ice and Rose did the same. but Cinnamon held her ground, even taking a step toward him.
"We were just admiring the beautiful bars on this door," Cinnamon replied. "We're students here.'
"You can't go in that way,' he said.
"We know." Rose said. "We weren't going to do that."
"You couldn't if you wanted," he continued, coming closer. "Those bars aren't the only thing. That there door is welded shut."
"Why would anyone do that?" Rose asked him. "Isn't that against some fire code or something?"
He shook his head.
"I don't ask questions. I do what I'm asked to do."
"How long has it been this way?" Cinnamon asked him in the tone of a detective.
"A little more than two years, I think," he replied. He looked like he didn't enjoy being crossexamined, but Cinnamon had a firm, demanding way about her.
"It was done to keep anyone from going into the private residence." I said, stating what I thought was the obvious and hoping to end this.
"Hey!" we heard, and saw Steven walking across the lawn. "Ms. Fairchild is looking for you all. She has information about this weekend's events. She sent me out to find you."
"Be careful." Cinnamon said, turning from the door to me. "She's liable to want to put a chastity belt on you. From the looks of this," she added, nodding at the barred door, "it seems like something she might do."
The groundsman squinted with confusion and then shook his head and walked off.
Rose and Ice gazed at me, and then we all went to join Steven.
Only I looked back at the door, wondering what it was that made this part of the house so inviolate.
Our lesson with Mr. Masters wasn't as unpleasant as I had anticipated. He was a very jailman, actually, and had fun pointing out our little speech idiosyncrasies. He did it in a friendly, light manner so that no one felt singled out or mocked.
What he emphasized, more than anything, was how much more effective we all could be if we spoke more slowly and didn't slur our words. There were plans to record each of us individually
Cinnamon smirked.
"Our Honey here doesn't exactly radiate sexual sophistication."
She stared at me a moment and then asked. "What are you going to do if your boyfriend wants to make love-- tell him it's bad for your career?'
"I don't know. I'm confused."
"Talk about invading someone's space. Maybe she's just weird. Maybe she's lost it since her daughter's death or something. Maybe we're coming to this school too late." Cinnamon rattled off.
Everyone was lost in her own thoughts for a while.
Then Ice turned her head to the side and said. "Well, look atthat."
"What?" Cinnamon said, her voice testy. I really regretted revealing what Madame Senetsky, had said to me now.
Ice nodded at the rear of the mansion. From where we sat, we could see it well.
"What?" Rose asked. squinting. The sunlight was reflecting off windows and the walls.
"That door. It's all barred up. It looks like a prison door or something," Ice said.
"Yes, it does," Cinnamon agreed. "Let's take a closer look."
She started across the grass. Rose and Ice following. I got up and joined them. As we drew closer, it was clear it was a heavily barred door. The windows in the rear looked barred as well.
"Some security," Rose said.
"Why?" Cinnamon turned around. "Look at this place, with its high gate, its video security and alarms. It's not exactly a burglar's dream.'
"This would take us through the rear of the building," Ice remarked.
"I guess Ms. Fairchild wasn't exaggerating when she emphasized how we should keep from entering this portion of the mansion," Rose said.
"What did she think we would do, take a saw to these iron bars?" Cinnamon asked.
"Can I help you?" we heard, and turned to see a short, stout groundsman with heavily curled dark brown hair. His shirt sleeves were rolled up over his bulging forearms and he held a pair of clipping shears pointed at us. His face was dark, and made darker by his unshaven cheeks and chin. Instinctively. I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped back. Ice and Rose did the same. but Cinnamon held her ground, even taking a step toward him.
"We were just admiring the beautiful bars on this door," Cinnamon replied. "We're students here.'
"You can't go in that way,' he said.
"We know." Rose said. "We weren't going to do that."
"You couldn't if you wanted," he continued, coming closer. "Those bars aren't the only thing. That there door is welded shut."
"Why would anyone do that?" Rose asked him. "Isn't that against some fire code or something?"
He shook his head.
"I don't ask questions. I do what I'm asked to do."
"How long has it been this way?" Cinnamon asked him in the tone of a detective.
"A little more than two years, I think," he replied. He looked like he didn't enjoy being crossexamined, but Cinnamon had a firm, demanding way about her.
"It was done to keep anyone from going into the private residence." I said, stating what I thought was the obvious and hoping to end this.
"Hey!" we heard, and saw Steven walking across the lawn. "Ms. Fairchild is looking for you all. She has information about this weekend's events. She sent me out to find you."
"Be careful." Cinnamon said, turning from the door to me. "She's liable to want to put a chastity belt on you. From the looks of this," she added, nodding at the barred door, "it seems like something she might do."
The groundsman squinted with confusion and then shook his head and walked off.
Rose and Ice gazed at me, and then we all went to join Steven.
Only I looked back at the door, wondering what it was that made this part of the house so inviolate.
Our lesson with Mr. Masters wasn't as unpleasant as I had anticipated. He was a very jailman, actually, and had fun pointing out our little speech idiosyncrasies. He did it in a friendly, light manner so that no one felt singled out or mocked.
What he emphasized, more than anything, was how much more effective we all could be if we spoke more slowly and didn't slur our words. There were plans to record each of us individually
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