Acting quickly, I grabbed the broom and began sweeping. “Go. Hurry or Sister Louisa will come.”
Mary Billy ran into the dining room.
For a moment I could only hear the throbbing of my heart, and the rasping pulsations in my ears. Uncertain of what to say or do next, my hands trembled. Tears blurred my vision as I desperately tried to capture each sliver of china.
Inspection.
The word screamed across my mind like the eerie cry of the bird of darkness. I knew Sister Enid would search me and find the bread! She would fall upon me, vengeful, her hatred sharp like the talons of the owl.
She would send me to the attic!
Glancing around the kitchen I looked for a place to hide the bread. The cupboards, oven, glass jars, all were inspected by Sister Louisa. No place was safe from her sharp eyes.
I pulled the bread from my pocket and broke off a large chunk, cramming it into my mouth. I gagged and my stomach heaved. I was scared. My mouth now stone dry, caused my throat to clench fighting my every attempt to swallow the bread. I knew I was going to choke.
My breaths came in shallow gasps.
I coughed and coughed. Suddenly, I could not breath!
Panic over came me. Grabbing my apron, I leaned forward and spat the bread from my mouth.
I heard the floor boards creak.
Sister Enid was coming!
Desperately, I glanced around the kitchen looking for a way to dispose of the bread.
Footsteps, heavy and certain, were almost to the kitchen.
There was no more time.
I stumbled in my effort to escape, my toe hitting the edge of the dust pail.
The dust pail. Surely, Sister Enid would not look inside.
Seizing the cover, I dumped the bread from my apron. Then pulled the remainder from my pocket. Breaking it into pieces, I dropped them into the pail. I swept the remains of the shattered plate on top and quickly closed the lid.
Now I had a chance.
Wiping my chin with my sleeve, I brushed, the crumbs from my shirt. I turned and stood straight and tall, my back against the wall.
Keeping all expression from my face, I watched Sister Enid enter the kitchen.
“You, girl,” she said, “stand over by the hearth.”
I turned to obey, my knees wobbly as I rushed across the room.
Sister Louisa brushed past me. She smelled of moth balls and lye soap. Her silver hair, fashioned in a tight knot, resembled an old pin cushion kept in the sewing room. Whenever Sister Enid was near, Sister Louisa twittered like a small caged bird. Her blue veined fingers continuously adjusted the hairpins in that tight little knot.
Rage and fear boiled from inside me. I had an urgent need to yank all those little sliver hair pins from Sister Louisa’s hair. I wanted to scream in Sister Enid’s face and tell her that the Nde would kill her for such cruelty.
I knew the anger would do me no good. Even though I hated this school and hated Sister Enid, I had no other place to go.
For now, I must obey Sister Enid’s rules. I would learn the white man’s rules and beat them at their own game.
I took a steadying breath to calm myself. I would not let the teachers know what I was feeling. Grandfather would have been proud of me. One, two, three, calming breaths. I might obey their rules, but they would never rule over me.
I watched Sister Enid move around the kitchen, her white gloved fingertips running over every wooden surface of the kitchen.
Four, five, six, more breaths. My shoulders relaxed, I could do this. Soon Sister Enid would be finished and I would be sent back to the classroom.
Sister Louisa opened the oven door and counted the tins. Sister Enid counted the china plates.
Two plates are missing, girl,” she said, her blue eyes the color of steel.
“No. Sister. One plate was broken.”
“Two are missing, girl.”
“Mary Bill broke one plate.”
“Only one?”
“Yes, teacher.”
Sister Enid fell silent then continued to inspect the kitchen. Her gaze scanning the floor for signs of the accident.
I held my breath as she neared the dust pail. I watched Sister Enid glance at the cupboard and then at the pail.
“Did you sweep the floor, girl?”
“Yes, teacher.”
Her fingertips touched the lid of the pail.
I felt my spine go ridged, and a small gasp left my lips.
“Girl, I’ll have no lying—”
“No, Sister.”
“Have you been stealing, girl? Tell me now.”
The back door creaked. I looked over my shoulder.
Anna Thunder
“You, girl!” Sister Louisa, said, slapping my shoulder. “Pay attention when Sister Enid is speaking to you. Turn around.”
“Yes, Sister.”
“Answer the question. Did you steal anything from the kitchen?”
“No, teacher. I take nothing.”
Though my gaze was fastened on Sister Enid, I knew the Comanche was heading in my direction. Her gait uneven, I guessed she was carrying the slop bucket. She would expect me to give her my slice of bread.
“You, Anna Thunder,” Sister Louisa screeched. Take that filthy slop bucket outside.”
“Sister Kathleen said—”
“I don’t care what Sister Kathleen told you. You will do as I say! Now take that bucket outside.”
Anna Thunder did as she was told, then returned to the kitchen.
The Comanche stood beside me, her thin hands clenched into tight fists.
“Where bread?” she whispered.
I kept my gaze on Sister Enid, shaking my head. Anna Thunder was foolhardy to risk being caught by the teacher.
The teachers were talking and for several moments paid no attention to us.
“Little sister more sick. Where bread?”
“Gone.”
“Give to me.”
I risked a quick glance at the Comanche. “No!” I hissed.
“Silence!” Sister Enid commanded.
“Sister Louisa, let Sister Kathleen know I want the two Cheyenne girls brought in here. Everyone will be questioned.”
Pulling the silverware from her apron pocket. Sister Enid slammed it on the wooden counter. “I will have my explanation for this, girls.”
Anna Thunder’s hands clawed her apron. “Anna Thunder no take silver.”
Sister Enid gave her a cruel smile. “Perhaps not. You know who did take the silverware, don’t you Anna? Both you and Mary Billy seem to know everything that happens in this school. You watch everyone with those rave eyes, don’t you? Waiting for your chance to escape. But you can’t run away right now, can you Anna? Not when you little sister is so sick.”
Anna Thunder shook with rage. I almost felt sorry for the Comanche. I knew that if her sister were well, Anna Thunder would have struck Sister Enid.
My gaze locked with Sister Enid’s. She nodded at me, her thin face looking more like a death mask than a human. She was going to force Anna Thunder to name me as the thief.
“Many students have the sickness—diphtheria. Mary Billy is ill now. Just like your sister. I telegraphed for the doctor when I went into town. . .but now…”
“Anna Thunder hate Sister Enid.”
“Yes, I know. I see you watching me. Hating me. But you need me, don’t you Anna? You need me to protect your sister. To make certain she gets well. Your little sister is very weak, isn’t she, Anna? She isn’t getting any better.”
“No! Little Fawn stronger. Fever gone.”
“No, Anna, her fever has returned. She isn’t going to get well without the doctor. Little Fawn needs medicine.”
Anna Thunder shook her head.
“The doctor will arrive tomorrow. I am the only one who can send for him. If I do not send a wagon to town he will not come to the school. The doctor will remain in town for the night and return to Pine Ride on the next stage.”
“No!”
“Yes, Anna. The doctor will return to his home and Little Fawn will not have the medicine. Little Fawn will die.”
“Little Fawn not die!”
I watched the tears stream down Anna Thunder’s face. “Little Fawn, not die!” she shouted.
Sister Enid, walked toward the Comanche, grabbing her by the shoulders.
The teacher shook Anna Thunder. Again, and again, until Anna Thunder could hardly stand.
“Tell me who stole the silverware.”
I took a deep breath and wiped my damp hands down the side of my shirt.
How smooth must be the language of the whites, when they can make right look like wrong, and wrong look like right.
--Black Hawk
Sauk