The BTGs: The Spiritual Psychic Medium

     The beige walls were covered in glossy paint from some twenty years ago. The cinder blocks went in both directions only disturbed by a few solid wooden doors with industrial metal frames. The bench she was sitting on was across from one of these doors marked with a bronze plaque that said “principal” in raised letters. She assumed there was another one down the long hall with a sign marked “vice principal” as well. There was a muffled existence of students moving in the hallways outside of this hidden hall. The morning announcements, pledge, and prayers were all finished. A single electronic bell tone signaled the movement to begin, but she was still sitting there seemingly immune to all of the bustle. She looked down at her feet which were covered in a pair of old dirty sneakers that had long ago lost their appeal and value. They had thick soles at one point, but now they were worn smooth. The once interesting little wheels that were hidden in them were no longer functional and jammed with soot and sand. Her ankle socks were not much better being a mismatch of black and what used to be accounted for as white was now a dingy grayish pink from the Georgia red clay where she had grown up. She was no longer there, in Georgia, having been transplanted to this school, this city, this state upon a tragedy that she was coping with inside her mind.

     She looked up at her legs and noticed the stubble in the light before she was interrupted by some muffled argument coming from the other side of the doorway. She tried to understand it, but it was veiled by the buzz of a copy machine and a coffee maker that was burning its contents beyond palatability. The smell was almost as bad as burned popcorn and reminded her of her childhood growing up north of Atlanta in a large suburb where she had been not much more than a number in a class. The door opened and an older lady stood there looking down. “Isabella Dean?”

     The young girl looked up. The older lady was in a dark suit with a skirt, nude support hose, and black shoes, and had a pair of reading glasses perched across her chest like a fancy necklace. Her appearance looked hopeful. “Yes ma’am?” She remembered the last bit of advice that her aunt Linda had given her: “Remember to say ‘yes ‘ma’am’ and ‘no ma’am’ to these people. It shows a sign of respect.” It worked. The older woman smiled and let her pass into the large office space. It was the secretary’s office first then another door that was open with yet another middle-aged woman waiting. She was sitting behind an old oak desk that did not seem to belong there surrounded by cinderblock walls and a drop tile ceiling. To the young girl’s surprise, she stood up and came around the desk to greet her. “Isabella?”

     “Yes, ma’am.” The young girl bowed her head a bit in respect and held out her hand offering it not knowing what would happen.

     The older woman smiled and shook it then indicated for her to sit in a chair that looked like an old lounge chair from the ’80s. The older woman did not go back around her desk but sat down in another chair next to her. She looked at her secretary. “Mrs. Goodson, could you be so kind as to bring us a couple of fresh cups of hot tea?” She looked at Isabella. “Cream or sugar?”

     Isabella thought. “I don’t know.”

     Mrs. Goodson looked at her. “I’ll bring them and let her decide.”

     “Good idea.” The older lady turned again and gave the young girl a long look from her head to her shoes and back up again. She was wearing a brown modern version of a habit that included a very modest sort of headdress that was more like what nurses wore decades ago. She also had on support hose and old woman’s shoes that included matching laces. She had a long rosary around her neck that dangled down to her stomach hiding the crucifix within the folds of her small overcoat. “I understand today is your first day here at St. Bartholomew’s.”

     “Yes, ma’am.” Isabella nodded and sat back.

     “I should say welcome, but apparently your day didn’t quite start out the way it should have?”

     Isabella smirked a bit then frowned. “I didn’t get a great welcome party if that is what you mean?”

     There was a smirk on the face of the principal. “I guess I disserve that one.” She smiled and showed off some silver along the sides of her front teeth as well as a single gold tooth. “Well, I am sorry about that. I promised your aunt and mother that I’d look after you, and I have already failed to do that.”

     “What did they say?” Isabella moved a bit. “I mean…” She stopped and stared as her brain froze.

     “I have known your mother and your Aunt Linda for a number of years. They were my students here when they were your age, and I promised both of them I’d look after you…seeing as the situation that brought you here is rather…well, how should I say? It is unfortunate.”

     Isabella remained frozen as if in a trance. Her eyes were fixed and glassy, but she was not crying. A light knock on the door snapped her out of it.

     “Here are your teas, and I brought a basket of muffins from the cafeteria.” Mrs. Goodson looked at Isabella then at Sister Elizabeth. “Should I…”

     “No, I’ll handle this. If I need anything else, I’ll just buzz you.”

     “Yes, ma’am.” She turned and left.

     Sister Elizabeth fixed the two cups of tea and handed one to Isabella who smelled it and smiled.             “This reminds me of my aunt.”

     “I bet it does.” She gave Isabella a smile. “Those two were quite a pair when they were here.”

     Isabella seemed to ignore the conversation starter and stared into the steam coming off the cup. She took a sip then set it down and picked up a muffin and stared at it. “Who was that girl…this morning?”

     A noticeable sigh came from Sister Elizabeth as she swallowed a bit of tea. “I had a chance to go over the camera footage. You know we have cameras all over this school for your safety.”

     “I see.” Isabella could not help but roll her eyes a bit. She tried to stop herself, but it is nearly impossible for a teenage girl not to roll her eyes when an adult says something ridiculous and nearly pointless. “And are those cameras armed with stun guns and nets too?”

     There was a long awkward pause between them. Sister Elizabeth frowned then began to laugh a bit. “You are every bit the combination of the two. I see Linda in your looks, and I see your mother’s sassy tongue flapping out of that mouth of yours.” She paused again. “I disserve that but let me remind you that you’re a young adult not a full-grown adult in this conversation.”

     Isabella almost said something, but the voice of her aunt rang like a church bell in her head, and she thought better of it. Instead, she turned the conversation a bit. “So, who was my welcome party this morning? Because if that is your welcome party, you don’t need to hire the Huns.”

     At that sister Elizabeth let out a chortle and almost choked on her tea. “You are every bit the brains of the two of them. They warned me that you were too smart for your own good sometimes.” She shook her head. “That was Lucy Upshaw and some of her little minions if you really want to know.”

     “Well, on the advice of my aunt, I will refrain from calling her what I think she is.”

     “I appreciate your response to that…for now. I can, however, agree with you, but let that just remain between us, okay?”

     Isabella smiled. “I like you.”

     “Good, because I’d hate to be on your bad side. That being said, where did you learn those moves?”

     Isabella rubbed her hand through her reddish auburn hair and sat back. “I had some self-defense classes last year or so. My mom insisted. I don’t know exactly why, but she was very insistent that I take them without my dad knowing I was. She said it was because it would bother his ego or something like that. Anyway, I just used their moves against them. They were pretty predictable. When you can flip a 250lbs man on his ass…I mean back…taking out a couple of slow girls is nothing.”

     Sister Elizabeth looked at her. “Well, we’ll have to work on your…well…colorful vocabulary a bit. I know you didn’t learn that from your mother?”

     Isabella smiled. “You sure about that?”

     “Anyway, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from it a bit. I can work with you on getting you into the proper classes so long as you don’t…well…”

     “Get my mouth in the way?”

     “Precisely.” She smiled. “You don’t belong in what our computer put you in by default. I can see that now. I can see from your transcript that you were taking some pretty advanced math, science, and history courses as well.”

     Isabella shrugged. “They were better than the other classes.”

     Sister Elizabeth thought a moment. “Give me just a second.” She got up and went to her walkie-talkie. “Sister Margaret?”

     There was a pause. “Yes, ma’am.”

     “Can you come to my office please?”

     “On my way.”

     “Sister Margaret will get you some of our uniform material for the rest of today and the week. I have an idea that some others will come to my aid as well.” She smiled thinking about that a moment. She looked at Isabella’s clothes again. “You don’t mind, do you?”

     “It’s your school. Your rules. I’ll blend in.”

     “That’s not what I meant.” She sighed. “I just…how should I say.”

     “Don’t want me looking like Georgia trailer trash?”

     She sighed even louder this time. “You are a tough girl. I don’t see that in your mother or aunt like I do in you. That must be something from your father’s side of the family.”

     At the mention of him, Isabella’s eyes went blank again and she sunk into her chair like a deflated balloon. She did not cry, but she just sat there like she was stunned.

     “Isabella? Isabella?” Sister Elizabeth got up and checked on her moving her head.

     “What?” Isabella moved back away from her.

     “Sorry, you appeared to pass out or something.”

     She gave the sister a long look as a knock startled the two of them.

     “Come in.”

     A much younger nun in her late twenties stepped into the office. She was not wearing anything that gave away that she was a nun other than a cross and a certain demeanor. She was quite stunning with long wavy dark hair. She had on a dark shirt and skirt with black tights and modest shoes.

     “Sister, this is Isabella Dean. She’s new here, and she’s…”

     “I heard.” Margaret smiled. “The girls are gossiping about you already.” She made a little pretend attempt at a fight.

     “Sister…” Elizabeth said sternly.

     “Sorry, I just can’t help it. That girl just…”

     “Leave it be.”

     “Yes, ma’am.”

     “Isabella needs some uniform accessories. She needs at least two skirts, two shirts, a tie, a jacket, and, well, something…you know.” She just waved her hands.

     Isabella cut her a long eye with a bold slant just as she remembered to keep her mouth shut and go along. Again, her aunt’s voice rang in her head like a fire alarm.

     She learned from Sister Margaret that the kids called St. Bartholomew’s St. Bart’s for short. She also learned that it was better to just move along quickly in the long halls and hidden alcoves that were a part of the school’s architecture. It was like the school was both pragmatic and an ant hill all at once. The architect must have been a modern Medieval enthusiast and did not know when to leave some things out of the design. The school connected to the church via two outdoor covered walkways as well as a series of tunnels so that one could pass in open or protected from inclement weather. The school was in two large wings that separated the boys from the girls as well as the upper and lower grades. There was a large circular common area in the center that served as the axil to the spokes of the great wheel that could be seen better if one were to fly over the school. Sister Margaret’s office was in the center that was made up of no less than three large offices as well as a series of closets that were filled with uniforms of every size for boys and girls.

     After sizing up Isabella, she gave her one full uniform and showed her where the bathroom was. The emotionally charged girl went into a stall and sat down a moment. She hung the uniform on a hook and stared at it while doing her business. She heard the door open and close then the stall next to her was occupied. She remained quiet hoping no one would notice her there. She heard a great deal of commotion next to her as if someone was removing a lot of their own clothing just to go to the bathroom, or so she thought to herself. Her mind wandered listening to all of this wondering if the person had an accident or something. Then she heard the person doing their business and thought it sounded an awful lot like a horse, at least what she thought a horse would sound like peeing. After a moment or so, she thought she heard something shaking and then the sound of clothes being pulled back up. Then she heard an audible moaning sound with the clothes being adjusted before that person left the stall. She waited and thought it was all clear before she changed. It was cramped in there, but she managed to get into the uniform and emerge only to find a girl standing at the sink with a set of earbuds firmly attached to her ears. The girl had long beautiful sandy blond hair with a light curl to it along with very nice legs encased in black tights that seemed to cap off the uniform much better than her own mismatched footie socks. The girl had on Maryjane shoes and was examining herself in the mirror when she turned with a startled look and immediately removed her earbuds.

     “Oh. Sorry…I thought I was alone.” Her voice was nice and soothing. “Usually this bathroom is empty.” She smiled. “I…I like my privacy.” She blushed.

     Isabella looked at her. “Sorry about that. I’m new here. I’ll remember that. Sister Margaret told me to change in here.”

     “Oh, you’re the new girl.” She smiled. “I’m Jessica…Jessica Henderson.” She moved over and held out her hand to Isabella.

     Isabella shook it and smiled. “Yeah, the new girl…sort of has a nice ring to it” She scoffed.

    Jessica stood by her. “I heard about this morning.” She sighed. “News travels like a hurricane around here especially when nothing interesting has happened in months.” She leaned against the sink and folded her arms.

     Isabella gave her a once over admiring how she looked in her uniform but noticed something odd about the front of her skirt. She looked up at her face and smiled. “You wear that uniform very well.” She sighed. “I still look like an unmade bed.”

     “How about I walk you back to Sister Margaret’s office and see if I can stay with you…you know…be a guide or something?”

     “Sure…and thank you. You are a much better welcoming party than what I met before.”

     Jessica giggled. “Yeah, Lucy Upshaw…she’s a piece of work. I didn’t see what happened, but my friends all told me that you set her straight.” She looked at Isabella. “Don’t be surprised if she tries that again though. She’s kind of like a rock. She serves a purpose, but she’s also quite hard.”

     “Rocks can be broken and taken down to sand too.”

     Jessica laughed. “You are a tough girl. I like that. I’d rather have you as a friend than an enemy. Here, let me get the door and we’ll get a move on. I’m sure Sister Margaret is wondering where you are by now.”

     Sister Margaret was pleased to see Jessica with Isabella with both of them smiling as they approached her office once again. She shot up from her chair and smiled. “Sister Elizabeth wants you back, and yes, Jessica you can tag along. I’ll let your teachers know you are being an ambassador today.” She gave Jessica a big smile and led them back down the long hallway to the front office.

Isabella was handed a schedule along with some paper and pencils, a planer, and a few notebooks. Sister Elizabeth led the two of them along to a room. “Isn’t this your math class, Jessica?”

     “Yes, ma’am.”

     “I want you to help with the introductions then after I introduce her. Let me do my job first, then I’ll let you take over. How’s that sound?” She gave Jessica a quick smile.

     “Sounds good.”

     The door creaked open, and the three women stepped into a quiet classroom of girls who all stopped their work and looked up. The teacher stood up and walked over. “Mrs. Woods, this is Isabella Dean, our new pupil. Jessica will be her ambassador today.”

     There were some audible groans of disappointment from some of the girls especially one in the second row who had long black hair and dark eyes. She was stunning to look at and appeared to be the alpha of the group based on her reaction.

     “Sorry Kelly, I know you usually get this job, but Jessica was already available and made her acquaintance with Isabella. I don’t want to upset that ship just yet.” Sister Elizabeth turned to the class. “As you know already, we had a bit of a commotion this morning upon Isabella’s arrival. I have dealt with the parties involved. I trust it will go no further than that.”

     “Yes, ma’am.” Was the class response.

     “I taught Isabella’s mother and aunt years ago, and we have already had a long talk about that situation. I apologized on behalf of St. Bartholomew’s response to our new student that was neither a very Christian welcome nor a very good Asheville welcome to someone who is our guest here as well as a new student.” She looked around the room. “I’m going to let Jessica do the introductions, and I’ll be available if you need me.” She turned to Jessica in her last words. “I trust she is in good hands.”

     “Yes, ma’am.” Jessica smiled from ear to ear.

     Sister Elizabeth left. Mrs. Woods stepped forward and introduced herself to Isabella before sitting and letting Jessica go through the entire class spending a bit more time on three girls in particular who were in a little triangle headed by Kelly, the dark-haired girl in the second row. There was an empty seat next to a petite strawberry blond girl with round glasses who looked every bit like a Celtic princess to Isabella’s mind. She began to notice that all of the girls in this class were dressed alike and not just because of their uniforms. They were all wearing almost identical opaque black tights just like what Jessica had on. She felt self-conscious about her appearance and really wanted to leave, but the girls were all being very nice to her. Kelly came up and shook her hand and led the strawberry blond girl up along with another girl with flaxen blond hair in a ponytail.

     “This is my friend, Amber Collins.” Kelly pointed to the Celtic princess who shook her hand and got a flush of red on her face. “And this is Cindy Henderson.”

     “No relation.” She piped in pointing to Jessica.

     Jessica giggled. “You beat me to it.”

     “I was ready this time.” Cindy also shook Isabella’s hand. “Welcome to St. Bart’s. We’ll talk later about…well…”

     “I already did.” Jessica smiled. “She knows about Lucy now.”

     There was a hush in the room as if they invoked the name of Satan. They all giggled too when they realized it.

     “Sister Elizabeth and Sister Margaret want me to take her on the tour of the school.”

     Mrs. Woods looked up. “You can go too. I already know you were going to ask.” She gave the girls a quick smile and waved them on. “Just take your stuff and stay out of trouble.”

     “Yes, ma’am.” Kelly nodded and grabbed her books and led them out into the hallway. “Where to first?”

     “I’d like to go to tea myself.” Cindy smiled.

     “Later.” Kelly elbowed her. “I meant here of course.”

     “How about we show her how the school works, then we can go to the library and sit and talk.”               Jessica pointed to the center of the school.

     “Sounds like a plan to me.” Isabella smiled. “I’m just glad I’m not in a classroom at the moment.”

     “So are we.” Cindy giggled.

     Kelly and Jessica led them to the center and then down each spoke of the wheel of the school showing her everything from kindergarten to the forbidden boys’ side of the school. They went to the cafeteria and then to the fine arts wing before going to the library and sitting down in the students’ lounge and plopping down on some sofas and chairs.

     “So, when do we have to go to class?” Isabella asked.

     “Not today,” Kelly said. “It’s one of Sister Elizabeth’s little unwritten rules about us. If we’re ‘working’, we get to do this.” She waved her hands after doing a silly quote sign with the word working.

     “What she means is that we’re free to help you adjust.” Jessica smiled.

     Isabella looked at Amber a moment. “You are certainly a silent partner in all of this.”

     “She’s a bit shy, especially around new people.” Kelly scoffed at Amber.

     “I’m one of few words.” Amber smiled.