Chapter 7: Into the Woods

I sat in Dean Gilbert's office while she and Father Murphy debated my fate.

"The child is confused, Cynthia," he said. "Let's not make any hasty decisions, and let's not forget our duty to them, to guide them and teach them, and not just when they do good, but also when they err."

Sitting behind her desk, fretting, the dean answered. "I don't disagree, Father, in principle, but I also have the parents to deal with, and their expectations. What Tyballa did was deeply immoral, and parents expect their daughters to have exemplary guidance here."

"Absolutely, and now we must provide it. Tyballa" – he looked at me – "have you received any religious instruction? Do you understand that what you did is immoral?"

I had received no religious instruction – such things didn't even exist in my world – nor did I believe what I'd done was the least bit wrong. However, it seemed wise to lie.

"I think so, Father."

"You think so? Tyballa! That won't do!"

I dropped my eyes. "I know so."

"Better. Cynthia, turn her over to me, and I will nip this in the bud and see her back on the right path. If the parents ask, tell them that the girl in question realizes she's made a grievous error and is receiving instruction from a priest."

The dean rested her hands on the desk and peered at Father Murphy.

"Fine. She'll need to stay away from the Conner girl, and I can't keep this secret from her parents. They'd hear of it someway or another, so I'll call them tomorrow. Harriet Conner will not be pleased."

"Is Harriet Hannah's mother?" I asked.

She turned to me. "Yes Tyballa, and I expect you to stay clear of Hannah."

"How can I? She's my roommate's best friend? She's in most of my classes? We play on the same team?"

They both looked at me. I think they heard the panic in my voice.

"Fine. I don't expect you never to see her, but don't be alone with her. Okay?"

"Fine."

Father Murphy rose from his seat. "Cynthia, please leave this to me. In fact, if you want, I'll talk to the girl's parents and put them at ease. Does that sound good?" The dean nodded. "Alright, come Tyballa, to my office. We need to talk about this."

I followed Father Murphy from the office. We crossed the green.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I'll have someone bring over something to eat."

"Thank you."

We entered his office and sat down. He pulled out a phone and called – I guessed – over to the kitchen to have them bring us plates. Then he just sat silently, and we looked at each other. Time passed while I fidgeted, but he waited patiently and peered at me with a somber expression. Finally, I spoke.

"Father Murphy..."

"Yes, my child?"

"I don't understand why everyone is so upset?"

"Tyballa, you were raised in a very sheltered environment, yes?"

The truth was quite the opposite, but it seemed to please people when I said that I had.

"Yes."

"Were your parents religious?"

"No."

"I see. And nobody ever taught you that homosexuality was a sin?"

"No. Is homosexuality what I did? Is it like being a lesbian?"

"Yes, Tyballa. A homosexual is someone who has relations with people of their own sex, boys with boys or girls with girls. It is a grave sin. God made men and women, and we are to marry and bear children, and that is the purpose of sex. Man must not lie with man, and woman must not lie with woman."

"I see."

He peered at me. I saw a glint of – something – humor? – in his eyes.

"You see, but you do not understand. You hear me, and know my words, but you do not feel the evil of what you did. Do you?"

"No Father. It doesn't seem evil."

He smiled.

"Good, very good, Tyballa. Nor should it."

"Father?"

"Tyballa, you must learn to hide things better. Miss Conner is a delightful girl, as are all of Miss Woodhouse's friends, but I'm quite sure that Renee explained to you that she keeps these things secret."

I blinked.

"You know – about her?"

He smiled.

"Yes, and I keep quiet. Despite her arrogance, and I do believe that will be her downfall someday – but the narcissist never sees the flaw in narcissism, does she? – still – despite her arrogance, I believe she does more good than harm. She keeps girls like you safe from yourselves, and you would do well to listen to her from now on. Now, do you understand that?"

"I do, Father."

"Good. Very good."

His eyes glinted again.

"Now, let's see a smile, girl."

I smiled. Our food arrived and we ate.

I crept into our room and found Renee lying on her bed. I said, "Hi."

"Hey."

I went and sat on the edge of my bed, facing her and resting my hands on my knees.

"Are you mad at me?"

"A little. Did you get in much trouble?"

"Not really. The dean was very angry, and she was very worried about what other girls' parents would think, and what Hannah's parents would think, but Father Murphy stepped in and said he'd help me."

"And did he? – help you?"

"Yes. It was strange."

She looked over at me, sitting up halfway.

"Oh? How was it strange?"

"Well, at first he said it was very wrong for girls to be with girls, and then he said it wasn't, and he knew all about you."

"I see."

"So anyhow, he said I should listen to you."

"He's right. You should."

We were quiet for a bit. Lying back again, she said, "Hannah had a real hard time."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, lots of people were saying shit to her, and she's cool and says she's fine, but I know it hurts her."

"Uh – who said things? Why?"

"Other girls. They were calling her a dyke, asking her if she eats pussy, stuff like that."

"Oh. Well – why is that bad? She does, doesn't she?"

"Yeah. But it's the way they said it. Tyballa, lots of folks hate people for no good reason, and being a lesbian is enough reason for lots of people. Do you get that?"

"No. I really don't. What's wrong with liking someone?"

She shifted back, wrapping her hands behind her head and looking straight up. Her words came out slowly, and she mouthed each syllable as if it mattered.

"You know, Tyballa..."

"What?"

"I actually believe you. You really don't understand." She looked over at me. "But from now on, please trust me. I know things you don't, about stuff, about how people are. Okay?"

"Yes."

"It's gonna be hard on Hannah. Actually, It's prolly gonna be hard on you too, tomorrow. Girls will be mean to you."

She waited. I didn't say anything.

"Anyhow, we stick together. If anyone gets too hard on you, she'll pay, but we can't go after everyone, and after what you did, everyone will be talking shit."

"I see."

"And we're still gonna do it tonight, the ritual, unless you changed your mind. Hannah still wants it, and there's no way I'd let her down."

"I still want to."

"Good. But Tyballa, please, don't fuck up again."

"I won't. I promise. I promise I'll listen, and I'll ask you before I do anything that anyone else will find out about."

She gave a little smile as her answer. Then she said, "Now, I'm gonna take a nap and maybe sleep. You should too, unless you wanna take a shower first or something. Anyhow, the alarm is set for 11:30. We wanna be out in the woods by midnight."

"The witching hour," I said.

She smiled.

"Yeah, Tyballa, the witching hour indeed."

A shower seemed a good idea so I went down the hall. I ignored a pair of girls there who whispered and laughed when I entered, who asked me if I was a dyke, and if I ate pussy, and other things. I said nothing to them, but I marked their faces and gave them a hard look. If they kept bothering me, I'd tell Renee. And when I stripped down naked, their faces changed. They were not pleased, and I shot them a grin. I was far more beautiful than they, and I could tell that they thought so.

After I entered the shower stall, I heard one them mutter, "What a dyke slut." I turned up the warm water, all the way, and with the hard spay pattering on my face and drowning out their voices, I just stood and relaxed. After they left, I took the soap and scrubbed myself clean.