Thelma said, “They won’t let Ruth and me share one of the small rooms because, since we’re identical twins, they think we’re really like one person. They think they’d no sooner close the door on us than we’d hang ourselves.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Laura said.
“Of course it’s ridiculous,” Thelma agreed. “Hanging isn’t flamboyant enough. The amazing Ackerson sisters—Ruth and moi—have a flair for the dramatic. We’d commit hara-kiri with stolen kitchen knives, or if we could get hold of a chainsaw …”
Throughout the room conversations were conducted in moderate voices, for adult monitors patrolled the dining hall. The third-floor Resident Advisor, Miss Keist, passed behind the table where Laura sat with the Ackersons, and Thelma whispered, “Gestapo.”
When Miss Keist passed, Ruth said, “Mrs. Bowmaine means *ell, but she just isn’t good at what she does. If she took time to learn what kind of person you are, Laura, she’d never worry about ‘*HI committing suicide. You’re a survivor.”
As she pushed her inedible food around her plate, Thelma said, “Tammy Hinsen was once caught in the bathroom with a packet of razor blades, trying to get up the nerve to slash her wrists.”
Laura was suddenly impressed by the mix of humor and tragedy, absurdity and bleak realism, that formed the peculiar pattern of their lives at McIlroy. One moment they were bantering amusingly with one another; a moment later they were discussing the suicidal tendencies of girls they knew. She realized that such an insight was beyond her years, and as soon as she returned to her room, she would write it down in the notebook of observations she had recently begun to keep.
Ruth had managed to choke down the food on her plate. She said, “A month after the razor-blade incident, they held a surprise search of our rooms, looking for dangerous objects. They found Tammy had a can of lighter fluid and matches. She’d intended to go into the showers, cover herself with lighter fluid, and set herself on
fire.”
“Oh, God.” Laura thought of the thin, blond girl with the ashen complexion and the sooty rings around her eyes, and it seemed that her plan to immolate herself was only a desire to speed up the slow fire that for a long time had been consuming her from within.
“They sent her away two months for intense therapy,” Ruth said.
“When she came back,” Thelma said, “the adults talked about how much better she was, but she seemed the same to Ruth and me.”
Ten minutes after Miss Keist’s nightly room check, Laura left her bed. The deserted, third-floor hall was lit only by three safety lamps. Dressed in pajamas, carrying a pillow and blanket, she hurried barefoot to the Ackersons’ room.
Only Ruth’s bedside lamp was aglow. She whispered, “Laura, you sleep on my bed. I’ve made a place for myself on the floor.”
“Well, unmake it and get back in your bed,” Laura said.
She folded her blanket several times to make a pad on the floor, near the foot of Ruth’s bed, and she lay on it with her pillow.
From her own bed Rebecca Bogner said, “We’re all going to get in trouble over this.”
“What’re you afraid they’ll do to us?” Thelma asked. “Stake us in the backyard, smear us with honey, and leave us for the ants?”
Tammy was sleeping or pretending to sleep.
Ruth turned out her light, and they settled down in darkness.
The door flew open, and the overhead light snapped on. Dressed in a red robe, scowling fiercely, Miss Keist entered the room. “So! Laura, what’re you doing here?”
Rebecca Bogner groaned. “I told you we’d get in trouble.”
“Come back to your room right this minute, young lady.”
The swiftness with which Miss Keist appeared was suspicious, and Laura looked at Tammy Hinsen. The blonde was no longer feigning sleep. She was leaning on one elbow, smiling thinly. Evidently she had decided to assist the Eel in his quest for Laura, perhaps with the hope of regaining her status as his favorite.
Miss Keist escorted Laura to her room. Laura got into bed, and Miss Keist stared at her for a moment. “It’s warm. I’ll open the window.” Returning to the bed, she studied Laura thoughtfully. “Is there anything you want to tell me? Is anything wrong?”