heart dropped. I had just had three lazy days of hanging around, no school, no chores, nobody wanting anything from me. I suspected that would end eventually, I just didn’t know when.
“Don’t look so disappointed! The Prime Minister is a bad way to start. It gets better, I promise,” he said.
“Thanks for the heads up. Have fun with your talk or your whatever.” I waved and headed off alone but not lonely. I was actually glad to break away and have a chance sort out the facts as I headed back to Summer Hall to check my mailbox. Obviously Violet and Bing were friends. So either Zooey was lying to me about their feelings toward Bing or Violet had changed her mind about him and Zooey was the one who didn’t know. I didn’t think Zooey was a liar. I thought it was more likely Violet was hiding her friendship with Bing purposely. A little mystery, I chuckled to myself. I wondered what they were up to.
As I suspected, my mailbox was brimming. There was more reading material stuffed in the box and also a large envelope made of textured creamy paper. My full name was written elegantly across the front in black ink and the back was sealed with an uneven glob of blue melted wax. A large C was embossed in the center of the wax. I took the pile back to my room and sat on my bed with it all. I slit open the back of the envelope. It was an invitation that read:
You are hereby invited to join
the residents and staff of Chanticleer for
Positively Medieval!
A celebration of our first quarter successes.
March 21, 6pm @ Cornish Manor
Medieval attire will be provided.
There was a button on the invitation that said PRESS HERE. When I did, a short trumpet tune played. So this must be one of the festivals that Zooey mentioned. I was a little excited, turning over the heavy cardstock and studying the map to Cornish Manor that was affixed to the back. I hadn’t seen the building yet in my travels there. I would be looking forward to the festival more if I didn’t have the coursework appointment with Bing to get through beforehand.
The Prime Minister’s had been rough for me, even though Miss Clarice had been encouraging afterward. There had been a lot of ups and downs that day. I was determined to do better the next time. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore, but would remain cool and composed. If anyone yelled at me I was sure I would know to ignore it.
I laid my head down on the pillow and drew the fur blanket over me. There was nothing better than sitting under the covers in the early afternoon. On a regular school day at home I would have been in history then. Instead, I was content to snuggle under and wonder.
Zooey had said that there were many wonderful times in Chanticleer and that one day I might not want to leave. I didn’t feel like that; I couldn’t imagine I ever would. I definitely still wondered what I was doing there and fretted about my state of health back home. They were serious about the fact that I might die. Every now and then I remembered that reality, wondered if the pink-sky world would suddenly dissolve into instant blackness, my organs fatally infected, my life over. I pushed that thought into the back of my mind. For the moment, I had to deal with Chanticleer and its mysteries.
First off, I wanted to get rid of the awkwardness that I couldn’t shake, feeling like the odd man out. I knew it was all part of being new and that eventually that feeling would fade away. Everyone was so up about Chanticleer, I was anxious to feel like that too. Maybe someday I would. For the moment, I couldn’t imagine how to get myself there.
I got really nervous thinking about my next coursework and what it would be. What would happen to me if I failed completely? When I was standing by the gate my first day, refusing to go back into the Prime Minister’s house, I remember Bing said that I didn’t know what it meant to fail in Chanticleer. And that weird story that Violet was telling me in the
“Don’t look so disappointed! The Prime Minister is a bad way to start. It gets better, I promise,” he said.
“Thanks for the heads up. Have fun with your talk or your whatever.” I waved and headed off alone but not lonely. I was actually glad to break away and have a chance sort out the facts as I headed back to Summer Hall to check my mailbox. Obviously Violet and Bing were friends. So either Zooey was lying to me about their feelings toward Bing or Violet had changed her mind about him and Zooey was the one who didn’t know. I didn’t think Zooey was a liar. I thought it was more likely Violet was hiding her friendship with Bing purposely. A little mystery, I chuckled to myself. I wondered what they were up to.
As I suspected, my mailbox was brimming. There was more reading material stuffed in the box and also a large envelope made of textured creamy paper. My full name was written elegantly across the front in black ink and the back was sealed with an uneven glob of blue melted wax. A large C was embossed in the center of the wax. I took the pile back to my room and sat on my bed with it all. I slit open the back of the envelope. It was an invitation that read:
You are hereby invited to join
the residents and staff of Chanticleer for
Positively Medieval!
A celebration of our first quarter successes.
March 21, 6pm @ Cornish Manor
Medieval attire will be provided.
There was a button on the invitation that said PRESS HERE. When I did, a short trumpet tune played. So this must be one of the festivals that Zooey mentioned. I was a little excited, turning over the heavy cardstock and studying the map to Cornish Manor that was affixed to the back. I hadn’t seen the building yet in my travels there. I would be looking forward to the festival more if I didn’t have the coursework appointment with Bing to get through beforehand.
The Prime Minister’s had been rough for me, even though Miss Clarice had been encouraging afterward. There had been a lot of ups and downs that day. I was determined to do better the next time. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore, but would remain cool and composed. If anyone yelled at me I was sure I would know to ignore it.
I laid my head down on the pillow and drew the fur blanket over me. There was nothing better than sitting under the covers in the early afternoon. On a regular school day at home I would have been in history then. Instead, I was content to snuggle under and wonder.
Zooey had said that there were many wonderful times in Chanticleer and that one day I might not want to leave. I didn’t feel like that; I couldn’t imagine I ever would. I definitely still wondered what I was doing there and fretted about my state of health back home. They were serious about the fact that I might die. Every now and then I remembered that reality, wondered if the pink-sky world would suddenly dissolve into instant blackness, my organs fatally infected, my life over. I pushed that thought into the back of my mind. For the moment, I had to deal with Chanticleer and its mysteries.
First off, I wanted to get rid of the awkwardness that I couldn’t shake, feeling like the odd man out. I knew it was all part of being new and that eventually that feeling would fade away. Everyone was so up about Chanticleer, I was anxious to feel like that too. Maybe someday I would. For the moment, I couldn’t imagine how to get myself there.
I got really nervous thinking about my next coursework and what it would be. What would happen to me if I failed completely? When I was standing by the gate my first day, refusing to go back into the Prime Minister’s house, I remember Bing said that I didn’t know what it meant to fail in Chanticleer. And that weird story that Violet was telling me in the
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