Sorta good, sorta bad, sorta strange evening. First off, it was sorta sci fi, with me seeing the “rebooted” Star Trek for the first time and marveling at the lens flare and little else, before it segued into Childhood’s End, Part One, and I wasn’t completely disappointed, I am debating if I’ll bother with the rest tonight and Wednesday night. Probably not, because of a number of changes that sort of ruined the story for me. At least they sort of got the Karellen right . . .
I guess putting Charles Dance up in demon makeup isn’t the worst thing they could do–
A little bit of bummage came last night when I woke up at one in the morning and noticed that I no longer had a nose piercing. Somewhere between about seven PM and six hours later it came out, and for all I know I swallowed it in my sleep. The hole has also resealed, so I’ll need to re-pierce it. I don’t think it’ll be a big deal, it’s just a bummer that I need to get a time to redo it. Maybe they’ll put in the screw-in kind so it won’t fall out again.
And the cold is holding on, and has turned into a bit of a nagging cough. I hate this. Go the hell away.
After all this . . . six hundred and some words written, with the scene and mood changing a little. I’ve moved everything over to the Office of the Headmistress, who doesn’t get a lot of stage time, but she’s always around–
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
“You like to start business early, don’t you?” Headmistress Mathilde Laventure moved behind her desk as her Chief Medical Officer and her Head Seer and Åsgårdsreia Coven Leader to their seats facing her. “Why the urgency that you needed to speak with me before I could return to Rhiannon so that I could partake in a meeting—in ninety minutes, mind you—with Paris and the Washington Educational Council?”
Coraline crossed her legs and set her tablet against her knee. “We have a situation with a student, Headmistress. A possible serious one.”
“I see.” Mathilde tapped her own computer monitor on. “What sort of serious situation, Doctor?”
Coraline blanched as she always did when she was addressed by her actual title. Though she’d continued to encourage students, staff, and instructors to address he by her former title of “Nurse”,
Headmistress Laventure had begun pressuring her to embrace her actual profession. Sure, old habits die hard, but if there’s anything I’ve learned about being in The Foundation, it’s you have to go forward into the future, or you get left behind in the past. “I think Deanna can better handle that explanation.”
“Really.” The headmistress faced her other guest. “And what is this possible serious situation?”
“We have a student under our care—” She indicated herself and Coraline. “—who has been suffering from a series of dreams that at first seemed innocuous—”
Coraline built upon Deanna’s statement. “But have recently become rather disturbing to him.”
“Him.” Mathilde sat back and set her hands in her lap, an action she often followed when she was about to turn authoritative. “This wouldn’t happen to be someone presently checked into the hospital?” She examined the look exchanged between the two women on the other side of her desk. “I was up at five-ten and, as you know, one of the first things I do is read the evening’s reports while having coffee. Your night nurse recorded an incident at one fifty-two that required your summoning—” She pointed to Coraline. “—and you—” She pointed at Deanna. “—showed up as well at two thirty-two.” She rested her hands back in her lap. “Since there were only two patients on the ward last night, and one of them is a girl, I have to assume the student in question is Kerry Malibey.”
Coraline and Deanna exchanged glances before the doctor answered. “That’s correct.”
Now, before the Headmistress gets into the details of Kerry’s problem, she has questions about Kerry’s other problem . . .
“Did Annie sleep with Kerry last night?” The headmistress turned a quizzical look upon her guests.
Coraline fielded the answer again. “She didn’t last night. But . . . she was in the bay with Kerry.”
“Which is normal for her whenever Kerry is injured.” Deanna didn’t want Coraline to continued being singled out for inquiry. “The last time he spent the night there she slept in the next bed—as she did last evening.”
“Let’s just hope their parents don’t find out about this.” Mathilde smirked as she moved about in her chair. “I can imagine what Annie’s parents would say if they knew their thirteen year old daughter was sleeping with her boyfriend.”
“She doesn’t do it all the time.” Coraline shrugged. “Let’s be honest, Mathilde: if they want to sleep together—or do more—they can do so outside the hospital.”
“And they’ve had ample opportunity—” Deanna brushed hair back away from her face. “Both this level and their last. At least when they’re in the hospital we know they’re not engaging in sexual relations.”
Mathilde leaned her head to the side. “Still, there’s those evenings we know they’ve spent together in the commons—”
Deanna smile was devastatingly charming. “We could always speak with them about this: perhaps the talk will get back to Kerry’s parents and his mother can write you another letter.”
Ooooh, burn, Deanna! Yeah, I’m sure Mathilde is still having a laugh over that letter . . .
Well, you know, Headmistress, if you want Annie’s parents to know their daughter has been snoozing with her boyfriend now and then, you could probably just tell them. It would be interesting to see the Annie’s parents jaunting over to speak with the headmistress, which is probably why she’s avoiding telling them. And let’s not even bring Kerry’s parents into this mix–
There is a point to this scene, and I’m about to get to it. And in the process we’ll learn just a little bit more about what some of that stuff meant.
And maybe, in the end, Mathilde will think about sitting the kids down to have another talk . . .