Behind the Gates (3 page)

We’re all staring at the showdown. Evelyn rolls her eyes when she hears the thing about our safety again, but everyone is too stunned to move.

With a sharp yank, Devi grabs Jordan’s bracelet, abruptly snipping it off. The girl looks at her in shocked disbelief. Then Jordan bends forward and vomits onto the dirt.

“Some people are
way
too attached,” the coma girl jeers loudly. The tall tennis-playing girl snickers at the taunt, but she is the only one. The rest of us can totally relate to how Jordan Baker is feeling.

Jordan stands up and sees Mrs. Brewster and Devi glaring at her. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I must be, you know, carsick or something.”

I actually feel a little nauseated myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a car or a bus for as long as we just were. I’ve certainly never been carsick, but maybe this is what it feels like.

“Louisa Ballinger,” Devi calls. As I step forward and
present my wrist, I feel a sharp kick of anxiety in the pit of my stomach, but try to conceal it by keeping my face expressionless.

My skin tingles as Devi inserts the bottom blade between my bracelet and my arm. I look away when the electric buzz runs up the blades of the scissors. With a click, my ID falls free and Devi catches it. Quickly, she tosses it into the metal box with the others.

I’m amazed at how emotional I feel. Tears collect in my eyes but I force them down. It’s as though I’ve been set adrift in some strange new world where no one knows me and I have no way to identify myself. I’m frightened even though I know it’s silly.

“Madeleine Ballinger.”

I look to Maddie but she is absently gazing out over the lake.

“Madeleine Ballinger,” Devi repeats more loudly. I poke Maddie and she turns sharply toward me. “What did you do that for?” she asks. “She’s calling you.”

Maddie blinks, not understanding my meaning.

Devi is almost shouting now. “Madeleine Ballinger, please come forward and present your identity bracelet.”

“Oh!” Maddie cries with a start. “That’s me!”

“Yeah, that’s you,” I say, gently nudging her forward.

Maddie rushes toward Devi, extending her arm. “Sorry! Sorry! I just didn’t hear you,” she apologizes.

“From now on, pay attention,” Devi insists impatiently.

I rub my forehead and sigh. How will we ever pull off this twin thing if Maddie can’t even remember that her last name is supposed to be Ballinger and not Frye?

I’m surprised that Maddie doesn’t seem to mind when Devi cuts off her bracelet. Is she relieved to be rid of her false identity? I think she is. Because I know her so well, I catch the glint of happiness that flashes in her eyes as Devi tosses the bogus bracelet into the metal box.

What’s even more surprising to me, though, is that my feelings are hurt. I guess I’d assumed she’d be overjoyed to be twins. Hadn’t we always been closer than sisters?

Stop!
I tell myself. Maddie is no happier about this than the rest of us. She can’t possibly be.

As Maddie walks back toward me, Evelyn raises her hand. Once more she doesn’t wait to be called on before launching into the question everyone is dying to ask. “When will we get our bracelets back?”

“Ms. Posner, let’s clear something up right now. Wait to be acknowledged before speaking,” Mrs. Brewster scolds Evelyn. “This habit you have of speaking out whenever you feel the urge will not be tolerated here at Country Manor.”

Evelyn’s eyes widen; the reprimand has shocked her. “I only wanted to know,” she repeats, holding her ground, refusing to apologize, “when our IDs will be returned to us.”

“When you leave Country Manor,” Mrs. Brewster replies evenly.

“Excuse me?” Evelyn says in disbelief.

“You don’t need them here, and we don’t want them to be lost or stolen. It’s for your own protection.”

Why wasn’t I surprised to hear
that?

“They don’t come off,” Evelyn argues. “They are permanently fastened to our wrists. They can’t be lost or stolen.”

“There are ways to do it,” Mrs. Brewster replies. She gestures toward Devi, who holds up the electrical scissor-cutting device. “As you can plainly see.”

“Teresa Balmer,” Devi calls out, ending the debate between Evelyn and Mrs. Brewster.

“This isn’t right,” Evelyn grumbles.

“Don’t worry about it,” Maddie says comfortingly. “We really don’t need them here. It’s not like we’ll be going anywhere.”

“Speak for yourself,” Evelyn says in a whisper.

Maddie gives Evelyn a reassuring hug and I cringe inwardly.

Still, as the cutting continues, I keep looking at my own bare wrist. I feel so strange without my bracelet — vulnerable or naked, somehow. I definitely don’t feel safe or protected.

L
ouisa Ballinger, Madeleine Ballinger, Rosemary Chavez, and Evelyn Posner, step forward, please,” Emmanuelle calls. She seems pleasant and her dark eyes are pretty. I feel more relaxed with her, maybe because she’s one of the only teachers here who’s smiled since we arrived.

We’re in the residence hall, behind the main building. Even though the front of Country Manor looks royal, the back building is an entirely different story. It’s plain and functional, no-frills. The windows have bars on them, which is a little creepy, but the views are lovely.

The four of us step forward and I take a quick, unhappy breath when I see the girl named Rosemary Chavez. She’s the coma girl with the straight black hair and snooty attitude.

Rosemary Chavez raises her hand and Emmanuelle acknowledges her with a nod.

“I just want to say, no one calls me Rosemary. It’s Rosie.” She speaks to the group as though this is important information for everyone. This girl really thinks she’s hot stuff.

Now that I know that Rosemary — Rosie — has a Hispanic last name, I look at her again. I can see it now. The girl has large dark eyes that go with her glistening hair. She’s definitely Latina. I wonder where her parents come from. She doesn’t really have an accent so I assume she’s been raised in Chicago.

“You girls will be here in suite three-oh-two,” Devi tells us.

“You mean the four of us will be living together?” Rosie Chavez asks. She gazes at Maddie, Evelyn, and me
with unconcealed disappointment. We are obviously not the suite mates she had hoped for.

I don’t exactly conceal my unhappiness about the situation. I’m not glaring at her or anything but I’m not smiling and waving, either.

My plan of avoiding her is pretty much blown. It’s hard not to get to know someone you have to live with!

Emmanuelle unlocks a door and opens it, revealing a large main living room. Our bags are waiting in the middle of the floor, on a big rug. We step inside, following Emmanuelle, while the other girls are led down the hall by another CMS teacher.

The main room has a fireplace, a big table and chairs, and two not-terribly-ancient couches. Three doors lead off this space: a bathroom and two bedrooms, each with two desks and a set of bunk beds.

“I suppose you guys want to room together,” Rosie sniffs at me and Maddie, as if being sisters is a weakness of some kind.

“Or maybe you two should split up,” Emmanuelle suggests to Maddie and me.

“Why?!” we both ask at the same time.

Emmanuelle smiles, amused by our panicked outburst. “I know twins are close, but that’s all the more reason to get to know someone else.”

At the exact same moment, both Maddie and I glance at Rosie. We don’t mean to. It just happens.

Rosie ignores us, though. “Are there any single rooms?” she asks Emmanuelle. “I’m sure if you contacted my parents, they’d be willing to pay extra for it.”

“I’m afraid not,” Emmanuelle answers. “Besides, you don’t want to be alone, Rosie. That’s no fun.”

“I didn’t think we were here to have fun,” Rosie replies.

I
really
do not want to get stuck with her.

“Maddie snores,” I offer.

“Not every night,” Maddie protests, stung.

“True. True,” I admit. “But what I’m saying is that I’m used to it. It doesn’t even bother me anymore. In fact … to tell the truth … I snore, too. It’s a twin thing. We share the snore gene, I guess.”

“In that case, I guess it’s you and me, bunking together,” Evelyn says to Rosie with a friendly smile.

Rosie just looks at Evelyn and says, “I get the top bunk.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Evelyn replies, clearly annoyed by Rosie’s bossy attitude. “It’s your special day,” she adds sarcastically.

I can’t hide a snort of laughter and Rosie shoots me a dirty look.

Rosie pulls Emmanuelle to the side of the room for a quiet discussion. I guess she’s still angling for the private room. That would be fine with me!

While they talk, I glance around the suite. I’m shocked to see that there aren’t any computers anywhere. On closer inspection I notice that the electrical outlets are all plugged up. There are a few lamps and an overhead fan, but that’s it.

I tap Maddie and whisper, “No computers. And look at the outlets.”

“Oh, I guess that’s why they took all our devices,” Maddie says. “They probably can’t get much electricity out here.”

“I thought of that,” Evelyn pipes up. “But this is a big campus — it should have its own power plant.”

Emmanuelle has turned away from Rosie and is smiling at us. “Keys!” she announces brightly, handing us each an old-fashioned metal door key. I’ve never used one before, and my suite mates look just as dubious as I feel.

Rosie stares at her key for a minute, then rolls her eyes and stomps off into one of the bedrooms. Suddenly we hear a horrified shriek.

“What is THIS?” she shouts.

We turn and look into the bedroom doorway. We see that she’s holding up a spiral-bound notebook — made of paper — and a pencil.

I plop onto one of the couches, a new wave of shock overtaking me. “Oh no,” I say, barely able to breathe.

“They aren’t honestly expecting us to
write,
are they?” Rosie demands.

Maddie runs to the other bedroom, and is quickly back with a report. “We have a whole stack of those, too,”
she tells me. “Do you remember any of our second-grade penmanship?”

I shake my head. I haven’t actually written anything using a real pen and paper since then. How am I going to get through classes at CMS if we have to write?

“Don’t worry,” Emmanuelle says with a smile. “We will review penmanship with you. Now I’ll leave you to settle into your new home.”

“Will you be one of our teachers?” Maddie asks her.

“Yes. I teach nature skills.”

“Does that count as a science?” I ask.

Emmanuelle nods. “That’s right. You’ll love it. It’s very hands-on. The forest out there will be your lab.”

“Where are we?” Evelyn asks.

Emmanuelle keeps her pleasant smile as she shakes her head. “Can’t tell you that. It’s for your —”

“Own safety,” Evelyn finishes for her.

“That’s right. Your safety is our most important concern here at Country Manor.”

Emmanuelle looks us over and then claps her hands sharply, indicating that she’s on to new business.
“I will come to get you at five o’clock to bring you to the dining hall, and after supper there will be some further orientation talks.” With a wave, she heads out the door.

The minute Emmanuelle leaves, Evelyn plops into a chair and throws her arms wide. “Well, that was all very convincing, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Maddie asks.

“They sent in the
nice
teacher to throw us off guard,” Evelyn says. “If we had any suspicions about this place, Emmanuelle is meant to throw us off. Emmanuelle seems so nice and normal. She’s young and pretty. Emmanuelle wouldn’t trick us.”

“But she
did
seem nice,” I insist. “Why would that be a trick?”

“Look at us,” Evelyn says, twirling her index finger in a circle. “Do you think it’s an accident that the four of us are together?”

“Sort of,” Rosie states. Then she mumbles, “A tragic accident.”

Evelyn pays no attention to the insult. “The four of
us were the only ones who spoke up and asked any questions at all. We’ve been labeled, branded as troublemakers.”

“I didn’t make any trouble,” I object.

“Oh, no?” Evelyn scoffs. “You were staring at that boys’ school like you were ready to jump right in and freestyle it across the lake. Mrs. Brewster was talking to
you
when she said to not even think about it. Rosie wanted her stuff back and so did Maddie.”

“And
you
bugged the entire staff, especially Mrs. Brewster,” Rosie reminds Evelyn.

Evelyn stares levelly at Rosie. “I refuse to be pushed around or ignored, if that’s what you mean,” she replies with a dignified air.

“Yeah, something like that,” Rosie snipes.

“So your point is … what?” I ask Evelyn.

“My point is that we’re outlaws. We’ve been grouped together so they can keep an eye on us more easily,” Evelyn explains.

“I am no outlaw,” Rosie insists, folding her arms. “I am certainly not in the same category as you.” She turns
to me. “And I hope no one else saw that you didn’t turn over your locket.”

Without intending to, I gasp and clutch the locket in my shorts pocket. “I couldn’t!” I blurt.

“Well, I should turn you in,” Rosie says unpleasantly. “I don’t want to be in trouble when you get caught with it. What you do reflects on the rest of us and I don’t want to be associated with you if you intend to break the rules.”

How obnoxious!
I think.

Then I remember that I had the same thoughts earlier regarding Evelyn and feel a little ashamed of myself.

I take the locket from my pocket and hold it in my cupped palm. “I’ll be really careful with it. I promise,” I say calmly. “Just don’t turn me in, please. It means so much to me. I’ll leave it in my top drawer during the day and only wear it at night.”

Rosie looks at me uncertainly but then softens. “All right. I won’t tell. But you’d better not get caught.”

“I won’t,” I say.

“I don’t want to be thought of as a troublemaker,” Rosie says.

“Like it or not — as far as the Country Manor staff is concerned — you already are,” Evelyn says. “You’ve already dared speak truth to authority and that makes you dangerous.”

“And everything you’re saying makes you … nuts,” Rosie counters. Evelyn’s conspiracy theories are clearly deeply aggravating to Rosie — which makes me want to hear even more from Evelyn.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” I ask her.

“We’re either in Chippewa County in Michigan or somewhere in northern Minnesota,” Evelyn guesses. “At the end there the driver detoured off the highway and took that trail through the forest. The signs I could see were old ones from back when there used to be a Federal Parks Program. They were too faded to read.”

“Thanks, Einstein,” Rosie says. “I could have told you we’re in some forest.”

“But could you have told me that we’re on the Canadian border?” Evelyn counters.

“How do you know that?” Maddie asks.

“We could have taken the Winter Road to the Northwest Angle leading into Manitoba. That’s my guess because it’s an unmanned port of entry into Canada. This could be the Provincial Forest all around us. I’m guessing we’re still on the American side since we didn’t stop for a border crossing.”

Maddie and I and even Rosie stare at Evelyn, impressed. “How do you know all this?” I ask.

“Simple,” she replies. “I knew something was up as soon as I heard about this place, so I tried to get prepared. I searched border crossings and I brought this.”

Evelyn pulls a simple, old-fashioned compass from her jeans pocket. “When I realized we were going north, I was sure they’d head for Michigan because it’s closer. But at a certain point we veered west instead of east.”

Digging into her back pocket, she produces a very folded piece of paper. As she undoes the folds, a colored map, a computer printout, of the United States becomes visible. Smoothing it, she points to a spot near the
Canadian border at the top of Minnesota. “As best as I can figure, we’re somewhere around here.”

“That doesn’t do us any good,” Rosie insists sourly. “What does it matter where we are? We don’t need to know that.”

“You might want to know,” Evelyn insists, “if you want to escape.”