The Seventh Mountain (13 page)

“Do you teach algebra and numeric
logic?”

“That’s rather perceptive of you. Most
freshmen don’t realize that until they show up for the first class.
We shall see if you are that perceptive in class, something which I
highly doubt.”

Mr. Thorpe, having delivered this ominous
news, turned to walk off.

“I remember seeing your name on my list next
to that textbook.”

He started walking away and kept his back to
them while he spoke.

“That’s right. Theresa Shadowitz and I wrote
that textbook. That’s enough chitchat. It’s well after seven now.
Get yourselves over to The Oasis and wait for your counselors.”

Mark felt happy to be finally getting some
answers, yet he didn’t know how to feel about getting them from
this particular man. Something about this man made him feel like he
was facing another bully. There was just something about Mr. Thorpe
that made Mark think that he took pleasure in making others feel
uncomfortable.

Time is measured in the soul, souls are
measured in time
.

Mark and Nick sat down at one of the few
unoccupied booths. They both looked at the menu. Mark calculated
that it was lunchtime in Australia. He turned to the section on
Australia and found just what he wanted. Nick was looking at the
State of Louisiana. He asked Mark, “What is étouffée?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t ever heard of it
before. Are you going to try it?”

“I don’t think that it will kill me. You
have to try new things sometimes in your life. If you don’t try new
things, then you just go stale. At least that is what my mom says.
I think that is an old Serbian saying or something. My grandparents
are from Serbia.”

The waitress, Shana, came to their table.
Mark ordered a grilled steak, onion rings, and lemonade from
Australia. Nick ordered the fish étouffée and iced tea from
Louisiana.

They had just about finished eating when Tim
showed up. “You guys join the rest of my group at that table over
there when you finish eating. I will give you your instructions
over there.” He pointed to one of the larger tables. Mark saw that
several people were already seated over there. Tim walked over and
joined the group. Mark looked around and saw several other groups
seated around the other tables.

After they finished their dinner, they
walked over and joined the group. Mark sat down next to a girl with
long, straight, black hair. He liked how nice her hair was and how
it shimmered in the light. She was wearing a white cotton-print
sundress with floral designs on it, making her look playful yet
polished and pretty. Her smooth dark complexion made Mark remember
the Cherokee people that he had seen back in North Carolina.

She turned and greeted him. “Hi. I’m Chenoa
Day.” She extended her hand and looked at Mark. “Do I know you? I
have the strangest feeling that I know you.”

Mark took her hand and smiled. “I’m Mark
Young. I don’t think that we have ever met.” Mark remembered Mr.
Thorpe telling him that freshmen would feel déjà vu when they saw
him.

Nick sat down across the table from Mark,
next to a boy with close-cropped black hair wearing dark slacks and
a multi-colored, striped, button-up shirt. He said to Nick, “Hi.
I’m Jamal Terfa.” He extended his hand to Nick. Nick shook his
hand. He then extended his hand to Mark. “I have that feeling too,
like we have met before.”

Mark shook his hand. “Hi. I’m Mark Young. I
don’t think that we have ever met either.”

“Excuse me.” Tim rapped on the table with
his knuckles. “I want you to meet me back here tomorrow at seven in
the morning. Seven sharp. Tomorrow you will be buying most of your
school supplies. I will be taking you to the barracks in a few
minutes. That is where you will sleep tonight. You will find a bed
and footlocker there with your name on it. That is your bed and
locker. When you get picked for your tribe, then your bed will be
moved into your dormitory. Some of you might be wondering why you
think you know Mark Young. That is the boy with the staff, down
there at the end of the table. Well, you all dreamed about him.
Some of you might remember the dreams. Most of you do not, at least
not consciously. That is why you feel like you have met him before.
Now, follow me.”

The group of sixteen girls and boys followed
Tim through a door on the side of the stage into a wide hallway.
“We are going to wait here for Gerod. He is going to be joining us
for the walk to the barracks. I have a map of the second level for
you.”

Mark took the map that Tim handed him. It
looked like a bull’s eye target. There were twelve rings of rooms
separated by eleven corridors. The center circle was labeled
“Council of Elders.” He saw that the barracks were all the way on
the other side of the mountain.

Gerod and his group arrived and the two
groups followed their counselors up the stairs to the second level.
There were twelve landings separated by fifty stair treads, making
six hundred stair steps between the first and second levels.

Gerod said, “Okay everyone that was a long
climb for those who aren’t used to it. Take a minute or two to
catch your breath and let your legs recuperate.”

The wide halls were elaborately decorated
with simple and elaborate sculptures and paintings, large, medium
and small, done in all kinds of styles.

Tim said, “All of the art work you see here
was done by students here. If you find something that you
particularly like, hang a green ribbon on it. It will then come up
for sale at the end-of-year art auction. That is only one of the
events right after the graduation ceremonies.”

One of Gerod’s students asked, “Aren’t there
any elevators here?”

Gerod answered, “Of course there are, but
they’re only for guests and those sick or injured. Stair climbing
gives you a good workout. In a month you won’t think anything of
it.”

A half hour later they came to the barracks.
Tim and Gerod opened the huge, gray, double doors that led into the
common room. Everything was gray. The walls in the colossal room
were lined with gray bookshelves and portraits hung in gray frames.
There were several long gray tables with gray chairs all around.
There was a large fireplace, done in gray brick, without a fire. A
large, gray framed window looked out on the now dark grounds. There
were several gray billiard tables, air hockey tables, foosball
tables and what Mark later learned were dueling pinball machines,
mostly all occupied. Other groups of students had arrived before
they had. The place was alive with activity.

Tim pointed to a hallway that led off to his
right. “The girl’s barracks are that way. The boy’s barracks are
that way.” He pointed to a hallway that led off to his left. “At
least one counselor will be here all night in case you have any
questions. There are not any alarm clocks here. I expect you at
breakfast at seven in the morning, sharp, one point off for every
minute that you are late. You will find your name on the locker at
the foot of your bed.” Tim and Gerod turned and walked out.

Nick spoke first. “It’s not even 10 o’clock
yet. I’m not tired. Anybody want to play a game?”

Jamal shook his head. “No. It has to be a
test. Tim said that we have to be at breakfast at 7 o’clock. I’m
not taking the bait.”

“Jamal has to be right.” Chenoa stepped up
beside Jamal. “Think about it. All of this stuff is here to temp us
into staying up. If we stay up, then we are not likely to get up in
time to make it to breakfast on time.”

Mark looked at Nick and said, “I’m pretty
tired anyway. It’s been a long day for me. I think I’ll find my bed
and get some sleep.”

The three boys walked off to the boy’s
barracks. Chenoa went to the hall leading to the girl’s barracks.
Mark noticed that every bed had a gray tunic set, neatly folded,
laying on it. There was toothpaste, a toothbrush and soap setting
on top of the tunic set. Each boy found his bed, picked up the
stuff on his own bed and headed for the showers at the end of the
barracks.

It didn’t matter that the pillowcase and
blanket were the same dull gray just like everyone else’s, he found
his way back to his bed easily enough, a welcome destination after
the long day. The mattress was just a little too firm, and the
pillow a tad on the thick side and the noise level a little too
high, but sleep beckoned and he gladly went.

 
* *
* 

Mark had no idea what time it was when he
awoke. Everyone else was still asleep but he felt well rested. He
reached under the mattress, removed the staff, and went off looking
for a clock.

There were no clocks to be found, anywhere.
The morning light coming through the window in the common room told
him that it had not been long since the sun had risen. He had no
idea what time the sun was supposed to rise this time of year. He
went back to the barracks and woke up Nick.

“Nick… Nick. Do you have a watch?”

Nick stirred. “What did you say?”

“Do you have a watch?”

“No. What time is it?”

“I don’t know, but the sun is up.”

“Check Jamal. Maybe he has a watch.”

Nick roused himself while Mark went to
Jamal’s bed. Mark shook Jamal lightly.

“Jamal. Do you have a watch?”

“What?”

“Do you have a watch?”

“No man. I don’t have a watch.”

“The sun is up. We better get to
breakfast.”

Mark went back to his bed. He remembered
leaving his socks in the top of his shoes. They were missing. So
were his dirty clothes. He looked around and found them neatly
folded lying on his locker. He smelled them. They were clean. He
looked up and down the rows of beds. Clothes were neatly folded on
top of every locker.

Mark, Jamal and Nick quickly got
dressed.

“Do you think we should wake the others?”
Jamal had just finished putting on his shoes.

“Yeah. You take that side. I’ll take this
side.” Nick started waking people up as he spoke.

“I’ll go yell down the girl’s hallway. I’ll
wait for you by the doors.” Mark sped out of the boy’s barracks and
over to the girl’s hallway. He shouted, “Everyone! The sun’s up.
We’re going to be late for breakfast.”

Mark heard down the hallway, “All right,
already. I’m up. I’ll wake the others.”

A few moments later Chenoa emerged from the
hall. She was still wearing her gray tunic set. “Don’t wait for me.
You might be late. I’ll catch up.”

“I don’t think that we are late yet, but
hurry up just in case.”

Most of the boys had left by the time Chenoa
showed up.

“Nobody has a watch. We’d better hurry. I
think that we should jog.” Mark led the way out the door. He
started jogging and the others followed.

The tables were packed with students,
upperclassmen, wearing tunics with trim that matched the color of
the table where they sat. The tunic sets were black, made of thick
cotton with trim in class colors around the collars, sleeve ends,
and shirttails, which went almost to the knees. The pants tied at
the waist and had a narrow stripe on the outside of the legs in
class colors. There were no pockets in the tunics.

Cloaks, black and floor length were made of
heavy, thick material for winter and light, breezy material for
summer, had pockets, four on the outside and eight on the inside.
The environment in and around the school was nice so that only the
summer cloaks were worn there, and then, only in classes, where one
was required.

Mark heard a voice on his right side. It was
Tim.

“Very good. Five minutes to spare. Find a
booth and have breakfast. Meet me at the signet shop at eight
sharp. Remember now, one minute, one point. Do not be late.”

“There aren’t any clocks here.” Mark pointed
around at all the walls.

“That is right.”

“How are we supposed to tell time?”

“You do not need a clock to tell time. If
you are having too much trouble, then watches are allowed for
freshmen. Only, you have to have lost fifty points or more for
being late. You will get used to it. It is not hard. Just start
taking notice of when things happen. Your internal clock will take
over. Just let it happen.”

Tim saw a group of his students that had
just shown up. “Very good. Four minutes to spare. Get some
breakfast and meet me at the signet shop at eight sharp. Remember,
one minute, one point.” He turned his attention back to Mark and
his companions. “You guys had better go and get some
breakfast.”

“Yes sir.”

Mark, Chenoa, Nick and Jamal sat down
together in one of the booths. None of them picked up a menu to
look at.

The waitress was Shana. Black slacks and a
white shirt seemed to be her standard attire. “You ready to
order?”

Mark said, “North Carolina please. Scrambled
eggs, biscuit and orange juice.”

Jamal said, “New York. Blueberry bagel with
cream cheese and black coffee.”

Nick said, “Kansas. Eggs over easy,
blueberry muffin and milk.”

Chenoa said, “Virginia. Eggs over easy,
grits and coffee.”

Shana said, “Let me take a guess. You each
ordered from your home state.”

All four nodded their heads.

“It’s rare that a freshman doesn’t do that
at their first breakfast here. Everyone feels the same. You’ve come
to a strange place. It’s a lot different than what you’re used to.
Everybody misses the familiar feel of home. You’ll feel a lot
better when you get that first letter from home.”

Jamal leaned across the table toward Mark.
“Tim says
everybody
dreamed about you. I know dreams are
important to Magi, but why did
everybody
dream about
you?”

“I don’t know. All of this is new to me. I
didn’t even know what Magi were until yesterday.”