Today Inca and I put our plan for Mary into action, and already it has begun to work better than we could have hoped. Surely the Father-King has his hand on this child.
On her first day back to school after the break, Mary had left lunch early—the students at the next table were laughing very loudly, and she thought from their glances and their tones that they were talking about her. She was walking down the hall, her books in a pile in her arms because she snatched them up so quickly, and she didn’t notice that another girl was sitting on the floor just outside the gym door. The other girl did not notice her either, and at the exact right moment—and at my suggestion—she stretched out her legs. Mary tripped, crying out with surprise, and tumbled to the ground, her books and papers flying everywhere.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” the girl said, scrambling up. “You okay?”
Mary laughed in the way she does when it is the only thing that will keep her from crying. “Yeah. I’m great.” She started to gather up her books again.
“I’m really sorry,” the other girl said, and she hurried to help. “I didn’t see you.”
Mary glanced at her, noticing a book tucked under the girl’s arm. “What were you reading?”
“This? It’s cool, it’s a spinoff of this podcast[1] I’ve been listening to.” She offered the book to Mary.
Mary took it and looked it over. There were illustrations, which intrigued her, and it seemed interesting to her. She wanted to look longer, but she thought the other girl probably wanted the book back, so she returned it. “I’ll have to check it out.”
As the girl reached out to take the book back, the sleeve of her sweater fell back a bit. It was an easy thing to get Mary to look down at that moment and see the thin white scar there.
Suddenly Mary was not in any hurry to walk away. She glanced around, trying to hide that she had seen the scar. “What are you doing here?”
The older girl smiled and jerked her head toward the door, through which shouting and thudding could be heard. “I didn’t want to dress for gym, so I’m sitting out today. Coach Buckley doesn’t mind if I sit out here where it’s a little quieter.”
“Yeah, I hear she’s nice.” She glanced at the other girl’s wrist again. “Why—why didn’t you want to dress?”
The girl paused, hearing some significance in Mary’s tone. “Shark week,” was all she said, which Mary seemed to understand even if I didn’t. “I’m Natalie,” she added.
“Mary.” She looked at Natalie and away. Mary wanted to ask her about the scar, or just to stay and talk for a while, but she was intimidated, mostly because Natalie is older by at least two years. Picking up the last of her books, she said, “Well, I’ll quit bugging you—”
“You’re not bugging me,” Natalie said, leaning back against the wall again. “Hang out if you want, doesn’t bother me. Unless you have to be somewhere?”
Glad to have an excuse to stay, Mary set down her books and shrugged. “I’m supposed to be in lunch, but I wasn’t that hungry.”
Natalie groaned. “I’m starved. I hate having third lunch.”
“I had it last year,” Mary said, pleased to have something in common with this girl. “I didn’t like it either—it was always too late.”
Natalie nodded, and Mary bit her lip, wondering if she was talking too much. I wrapped one wing around her shoulders to soothe her.
Natalie, meanwhile, was thinking about the reasons someone might have to leave the cafeteria before lunch was over. Too much noise, too many people, or just the wrong people—all reasons she herself used to leave.
“Yes,” I murmured into her ear. “She is facing the same struggles as you.”
Glancing down at Mary’s books, Natalie recognized the textbooks from classes she has taken before. Challenging classes, some of them advanced. She also saw a page of Mary’s homework, covered with scratch-outs and wavery handwriting.
Mary noticed her looking and hid the page away. “My English paper,” she said, embarrassed. “It’s due next week and I haven’t got a clue what I’m going to do with it.”
“I suck at English, too,” Natalie said, turning the book towards her so she could scowl at it. Then she looked up at Mary with a smile and a weariness in her eyes that Mary recognized instantly. “High school kind of sucks, doesn’t it?”
Mary laughed, in the same way she had before. “It does. At least you’re almost out. You’re a senior,[2] right?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have it easy,” Natalie sighed, putting her head in her hand. “I just finished my fifth college application this week, and I have another one to finish, and exams are coming up, and—” She paused and shook her head. “It just sucks,” she finished.
Mary pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. She hesitated, but I urged her to speak, and so she said haltingly, “How do you deal with it all?”
“The stress?” Natalie turned her head sideways to smile at Mary. “I don’t know. Just gotta get through it, you know?”
“Yeah,” Mary said, looking back. “I guess.”
I tightened my wings around them both. “You can help one another,” I whispered to them. “Together, it will be better.”
The bell rang, releasing Mary back to her class and Natalie to lunch. Neither girl moved for a moment, however.
Finally Natalie pushed to her feet. “Look, why don’t you take this?” she offered, holding out her book to Mary. “I’m re-reading it anyway.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” Natalie smiled. “It’ll be nice to have someone to talk about it with.”
Mary glanced up, hearing in Natalie’s voice that she wasn’t just talking about the book. She, too, smiled and took it. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of it.”
“You better.” Natalie shook a finger at Mary in mock warning, then picked up her purse. “Catch you later, then.” And she slipped into the stream of people starting to flow past them. Mary stood back against the wall and watched her go. Then she went off to class, her arms a bit heavier, but her heart a bit lighter.
It is a good start. The two of them both seem to understand the danger that they have both faced, and they like one another. With any luck, this will become a friendship that can heal both of them. Inca is pleased, too, and looks forward to how matters will develop. As they do, I will be certain to keep you informed.
[1] This would seem to be one of the interesting plays on words that people who work with technology seem to enjoy. A podcast is like a radio broadcast, but sent not through signals but through the internet, to Ipods and other listening devices.
[2] The humans use this word to indicate someone in the last year of high school. It is strange to me to use such a word for someone just beginning their life, but that is the custom.