The Boarding School Experiment (6 page)

She pointed behind me and didn’t act like she remembered me. “Upper levels are restricted to staff only. Didn’t you read your packet?”

I nodded the lie, and retreated to the ramp. The next level down held a theater, a media room, an internet café, and a huge library. A jogging track encircled the recreation floor, and an Olympic-sized pool centered everything. The new building had been planned to accommodate every type of school activity I could imagine.

Fake spruce trees had been placed in groupings around the interior. They provided the only touch of green here. Day one and I missed the color green. Even the outdoor atrium wasn’t green. It was Zen bridges, koi ponds, and paths lined with bluish-black river rocks.

I sat at the base of one of the bridges and dug through my packet. Class schedule, map, meal schedule, and room assignment.
Dormitory Malthus, South Side, Room 1024.

The interior walls leading to the dorm rooms consisted of normal painted sheetrock. The way to mine had an Alaskan outdoors theme: running wolves, eating wolves, wolves alone, and wolves in groups. They all pointed the way to room 1024.

Before leaving, I’d read that there would be three girls to a dorm room. Each room shared a bathroom with one other room. The dorm door beside mine was ajar and I saw a red-headed girl, and two brunettes arguing inside. My suitemates. Given the ferocity of their disagreement, I didn’t introduce myself.

Room 1024 had a closed door. I swallowed and tapped out a knock, and went in. Two girls sat inside on the twin beds furthest from the door. I sank down on the unoccupied bed. “Hi, I’m Elena.”

They introduced themselves. My two roommates couldn’t have been more surface opposites. Geneva was a self-described military brat: capable, willowy, and dark-skinned. Kaitlin was pale, petite, and wide-eyed. She had a Cupie doll appearance that would let her get away with a lot. I envied that.

They talked about their trips here. I wanted to learn more about them, but the mattress felt soft, like heaven, and my whole body sank into the surface. I was thankful to be flat after my long flight and time spent exploring.

Geneva nudged my shoes until I looked up. The whites of her eyes appeared bright against her dark irises. My own eyes felt raw, and scratchy.

“No go. Suck it up. We’ve still got orientation.” Geneva stretched. “I could use a nap too. I had a good four-hour flight from Seattle.”

I groaned. A blue light flashed above the entry before I could describe nine hours in the air or take her down with a good kick.

Kaitlin bounced out of her cross-legged position. “Blue means we go to the amphitheater. I read about the color system in the welcome packet.”

I rolled to my side and yawned.

Kaitlin twirled her chin-length bangs high and clipped them into her curly brunette ponytail. “I wish we had time to shower before meeting everyone.”

“No go.” Geneva moved toward the door. “We’ve been stationed some crazy places, but nowhere as remote as this.”

I struggled up to follow them. “It is far. What do you think the odds of transferring are?”

“After that commute? Not likely.” Kaitlin peered around our space and the tip of her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth. “Our room’s tiny. But we’ll make it cute.”

This dorm room was bigger than our trailer’s living room and the bedroom I shared with my sister combined, but I didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what to do about the bathroom situation though.“ Kaitlin’s mouth twisted and she shook her head. “Six girls, one bathroom. Impossible math.”

The light flashed again and a voice came through a square speaker. “When the blue light comes on, stop what you are doing and gather at the amphitheater. Make your way down either main ramp.” The voice sounded like the bun-wearer from the top floor, slightly condescending, highly commanding.

Kaitlin and I fell in behind Geneva, not only because she had longer legs, but also because she seemed to know where to go. We moved at a fast clip and people got out of Geneva’s way when she neared to overtake them. A neat trick, one I’d like to learn.

Down, down, down, we trudged. Getting to the amphitheater was all descent, ending at the bottom of the habitat. There weren’t any more instructions, so we shoved onto the bench-style seats, sliding to the middle. Geneva sat straight and rigid, and Kaitlin curled up cross-legged. I leaned back on my palms, tilted back, and stared straight up through the center of the school, all the way to the domed sky light. The hour had to be at least eight p.m., but the sun shone through the glass like it was noon.

Geneva noted my gaze. “It’s called the Midnight Sun, but we’re coming to the end of the cycle.”

“Cool.” Daylight at night—I might love this place. I dropped my gaze to the crowd, checking everyone out. With all of us gathered together, I got my first comprehensive look at the student body.

Ahead of us, a man in a suit stood behind the lectern. His arms were crossed over his chest and he possessed an air of authority like my old principal, but he didn’t carry a cane. His slim body leaned forward until his mouth touched the microphone. “Welcome. I am your director, and these are your coordinators.” He waved a hand at a group of adults seated in chairs lining the stage.

I recognized Coordinator Steele from the restricted area and the lab coat wearer from the entryway. I whispered as much to my roommates.

Geneva whispered back, “The Director, the Scientist, and the Enforcer. Those are their new names.”

I nodded.

Kaitlin giggled. “Okay.”

The director’s right arm arched toward the sky with one raised index finger. “First of all, I’d like to thank you for your sacrifice. What you do here is for the greater good of your community and you shall be rewarded.”

My fellow students clapped. I kept my weight on my hands, not really digging his use of the word
sacrifice
. My annoyance and the slightly acrid smell of new seating kept me alert.

He continued, “Some of you may not have understood that your cell phones wouldn’t get great reception up here.”

For great, read
none.
Kaitlin shifted. Geneva muttered something under her breath. They and the rest of the student body were going through a type of withdrawal at the loss of their phones. I understood. It had happened to me two years ago.

The director waved his hands in a quiet motion and stuck his lips near the microphone. “You have unlimited access to the phones here. We’ll have them up in a few days. You all have schedules. Each dorm has a coordinator who will answer your questions.”

A metallic echo accompanied his words, so he backed off before running through the dorm names and asking the coordinators to stand up. He got to ours. “Malthus Dorm. Coordinator Steele.” She stood up. Her lips pursed, and she didn’t say anything. Some of the other dorms had gotten positive coordinators who said things like, “Go Darwin,” and “Yeah, Ehrlich.” Not us. The announcement of Malthus Dorm was acknowledged with a nod and a pained expression.

Geneva flexed her fingers. “Great. The Enforcer Dorm.”

“Regular classes start tomorrow at eight a.m. Alaskan Standard Time. We’d like to end this assembly with exciting news. Your delayed baggage has arrived.” The director lowered his hands to quiet the excited murmurs and waved to the bun-wearing coordinator.

Coordinator Steele stepped forward and spoke into the microphone. “Line up at the front exit. One row. We’ll pass the bags down, fireman bucket style. When your bag reaches you, get out of line, and take it back to your room.”

Geneva jumped up. “Come on.” She hurried to the aisle, passing other kids who hadn’t reacted to the announcement with her speed. Kaitlin and I raced to keep up.

“I’ll help whoever gets her bags first, if she’ll come back and help me carry mine,” Kaitlin said, from behind me.

I looked back. “How many did you bring?”

Kaitlin flushed, and she sounded defensive. “Three.”

I didn’t even own three bags. I’d packed one besides my carry-on. “I’ll help you.”

“Me too, I only brought one,” Geneva said. “We military kids travel mean and lean.”

Military kids liked to rhyme. I wondered what that was about.

We stopped talking because Geneva had us running all out now to get a good spot. Crossing the threshold to the exit and into the crisp air shocked my senses for a moment, and I slowed to take in the view: one road, mountains, Christmas trees growing straight from the ground. Everything was so different from home. I breathed in, trying to identify more foreign features. It was more what was missing than what was here: pollution, buildings, civilization.

A coordinator held up a yellow flag and we dropped into line, probably about ten kids down from the front. Not bad.

“I can’t believe we have to carry our own bags,” the lanky guy behind me said.

I thought he was half-joking, but Geneva lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head to mock him, making Kaitlin and me giggle. I’m not really a giggler by nature, but Kaitlin had one of those infectious laughs.

Thane stood about five kids ahead of us, easy to spot with his height. He had a competitive streak and I knew he wouldn’t be one of the last students rolling out of the building.

Kaitlin clapped and I followed her gaze. Heavy, weighted engines rumbled as two eighteen-wheelers ground up the incline on the uneven road. It would have made more sense to me if we’d just carried our own bags over on the shuttle. But they’d insisted the luggage would follow. I bet they needed the extra time to search them. About a hundred yards out, the lead truck’s airbrakes whooshed and he turned. The semi backed our way, with the double doors facing us. Several kids made a backup beep sound.

Their joke cut off when the earth shook. Branches on the Christmas trees swayed deep. The world was in motion. Several kids broke the line and ran screaming toward the building.

“Earthquake,” Geneva said.

I turned to follow the runners and another jolt made me throw my arms out for balance. Like a warrior two yoga position would save me.

“Stay here,” Geneva yelled. “Remain in the open, away from the building.”

Shelter sounded safer, but Geneva’s family was currently stationed in the Pacific-Northwest, so no doubt she knew better than a native Houstonian. The earth jolted again, and I fell back on my butt. A sharp kick landed on my ankle, and I rolled clear of a falling Kaitlin.

“Sorry,” Kaitlin said, windmilling her arms, trying to stay up.

Geneva fell next, sliding a foot. The truck’s screeching brakes made me turn back to the road.

Boom.
The ground cracked open with a sound like rocks falling on a gravel path—but louder, much louder.
Boom.

Gears squealed as the driver tried to shift forward, but his rear tire caught in the widening crack. The semi-truck’s trailer sank back, and the front end rose a foot off the ground, its tires suspended in mid-air, like a bucking horse at the rodeo. The driver leapt from the cab and sprinted toward the trees. The truck hung there for a moment, then the whole vehicle slipped backwards into the hole and disappeared from sight.

The driver in the second truck jumped out next and ran toward the woods. A large fissure continued to split the black surface of the road like a piece of beef jerky. The widening chasm wrapped around the second truck. The weighted front end went down first and its tail flipped up in the air. Then it, too, vanished.

The ground had consumed both trucks, the same way I ate candy from Dad’s
Star Trek
Pez dispenser—gone in seconds.

The earth stopped moving, and in the crisp Alaskan stillness, only the sound of my pounding heartbeat remained.

The coordinator’s voice rang out with commanding adult authority. “Inside now. Everyone inside.”

Chapter Four

We trudged back down to the amphitheater, instinctively gathering again.

The director ran a hand over his head and stuck his lips near the microphone. “Earthquakes are common here. You all handled yourselves very well. No injuries.”

I flexed my bruised ankle and stared at him.

“The building may have sustained some minor damage. Nothing for you to worry about. This is an important time for you to review your pamphlet on earthquakes. If you are outside, stay where you are. If you are inside, get under a sturdy table. It’s that simple.”

Simple? He had a different definition than me.
The ground just ate our stuff.

“Unfortunately, your things are not quite recoverable.”

I wrapped my arms around my waist. Kaitlin and Geneva tensed beside me. Several girls started to cry.
I’ve been through worse than this
. I repeated the thought like a litany because an earthquake on top of all my stuff being gone unnerved me far more than it should have.

The microphone squeaked, and the sound reverberated throughout the amphitheater. “We’ve stocked plenty of uniforms, and we’ll distribute them early. You’ll have everything you need. If there’s something we don’t provide, get in contact with your coordinator.”