When Phoebe awakened the morning at her regular time, Phoebe was laying in her bed, pillow over her head. Portia dressed and went downstairs to eat a bowl of cereal.
Her father was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter, eating corn flakes.
“I heard you and your sister got into a fight at school.”
Portia nodded.
“What happened?”
“This,” said Portia as she showed off the bandages on her elbows.
“What started that?”
“It was Phoebe being Phoebe.”
“Was it the solo?”
“Probably.”
“Maybe you should just back down and let her have it.”
“Daddy…”
“Portia, you know she’ll keep bothering you until you back down.”
“Then why don’t you do something about it?”
“Your mother makes all the decisions when it comes to you two.”
“Mr. Tanner gave the solo to me, fair and square.”
“Life is never fair and square. Anyway, I got to get to work.”
Mr. Gatteau kissed his youngest daughter on the forehead as he gently patted her head.
“It’ll be alright, whatever you decide to do.”
After her father left, Portia poured herself a bowl of cereal and went to the living room. Her mother came downstairs and went straight to the kitchen. She fixed herself some bacon and eggs and also brewed fresh coffee before joining Portia in the living room.
Portia took her empty bowl to the kitchen and retrieved her backpack from her room.
“Can I go to the library at the Community College today?”
Her mother continued eating without acknowledging Portia.
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“I think I’ll go to the library today.”
“You’re suspended from school.”
“You let me go yesterday.”
“I’m not getting in trouble when someone catches you roaming around town.”
“But I’ll be studying.”
“You can do your studying right here.”
Portia dug the bird book from her pack and dumped the pack on the couch. She lay down in the middle of the living room floor and began reading.
Just before noon, Phoebe rolled out of bed and came downstairs. She plopped down on the couch, using Portia’s backpack for a pillow.
“What are you doing?” she said to Portia.
“Studying.”
“Studying? This is free time. We’re not getting credit for anything anyway.”
Phoebe then got up and went to the kitchen.
“There’s nothing to eat.”
“Eat some cereal,” called her mother from the living room.
“I don’t like this cereal. I’m going to the grocery store. Can I borrow five dollars?”
“There’s a twenty in my purse,” replied mother, “Get me a carton of cigarettes.”
“I can’t buy a whole carton with only twenty bucks.”
“Just don’t get those expensive ones you like and you’ll be fine.”
Portia stopped her reading.
“All right, you can go to the library, too.”
Portia packed her bag and left before her mother changed her mind. Phoebe caught up to her just as the bus arrived. They paid their fares and took a seat at the back of the bus.
“You’re so dumb. I don’t get you.”
“What?”
“You waste all this time studying things that aren’t even for school.”
“I want to become an ornithologist.”
“You need a college degree for that.”
“I’m going to college.”
“You know mom and dad can’t afford that.”
“I’ll find a way.”
They rode on, silent for a little while until they passed the market. Portia pulled the stop cord.
“Keep going, bus driver,” Phoebe shouted to the front of the bus.
“This is your stop,” said Portia.
“I’m not going here.”
Phoebe got off in mid-town, just on the near side of campus. It was the worst part of town.
“Ciao,” said Phoebe as she jumped off the bus.
Portia went to campus. She figured it would be Phoebe’s problem, not hers. Portia walked through campus. During the middle of the day, it was such a different environment, like a miniature city.
It excited Portia to see all the hustling around. She took a detour, cutting through one of the new buildings. The admissions office was just inside the doorway. Portia entered the office, her eyes wandering around the room.
“May I help you?” asked a student helper.
“Um, no.”
“Are you a new student?”
“I’m still in high school.”
“Then you’re beating the rush. What kind of classes do you want to take?”
“I want to become an ornithologist.”
“We don’t offer classes like that – but we do have Biology, Animal Science, or Veterinary Science.”
Portia nodded.
The student handed a enrollment form and directed her to one side of the room.
“There are class directories on the counter over there. Have a look around. If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to help.”
Portia flipped through the directory until she found the Animal Sciences classes. The course descriptions all revolved around farm animals. Portia didn’t want that.
She drew a line through Veterinary Sciences. She knew she didn’t want that, either. Instead, she flipped to the front of the directory.
Biology 100. This class is an introdcuction to Biology for non-Biology majors. 5 credit hours. Required texts: 2. Lab Fee $50.
“Fifty bucks, that’s not so bad.”
“What did you find?” whispered a voice. It was the student clerk.
“Biology 100”
“Do you want to enroll?”
“I can’t,” said Portia.
“Sure you can. Fees aren’t due until Spring Quarter starts, which isn’t for another 5 weeks.”
“No, I can’t.”
Portia tucked the enrollment slip into her backpack and left the admissions office. She walked around campus for a little while, sitting for a short while on a park bench to read her high school Biology book. As the winter winds whipped up, Portia decided it was either time to go into the cafeteria or home. She went to the bus stop and went home.
The next two days she stayed at home, reading her Biology textbook while Phoebe went out. Portia figured that Phoebe’s friends skipped school. Phoebe came home each night reeking of pot.
When Phoebe came home, Portia was in the living room with their parents. She lay on the carpet studying. Mother and father were sittin next to each other on the couch, watching a crime drama. A thick cloud of cigarette smoke from one of her father’s cloves hung in the air. Still, when Phoebe took off her coat, Portia could smell the familiar pot odor.
“Can you smell that?” she said to her parents.
“Smell what?”
“Phoebe smells like pot.”
Her mother motioned to Phoebe. Phoebe walked to the edge of the couch. Mrs. Gatteau inhaled deeply.
“I don’t smell a thing.”
Portia rose to her feet and stood next to her sister.
“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Portia. She looked to her father for help. He looked up, over to mother, then back to the television.
Portia picked up her book and went upstairs to study. About an hour later, Phoebe entered their room.
“Thought you had me, didn’t you?”
Phoebe laughed.
On Friday morning, suspension was over. Portia rode to school with Phoebe. When they arrived, they went straight to the principal’s office.
“Good morning, girls. How was your three-day vacation?”
“Pretty good, Mr. Coffman,” snapped Phoebe.
“I’m glad you had fun. Now, it’s back to work. I talked to Mr. Tanner and we decided that suspension was enough punishment. However, if you land in my office again, you’ll be kicked out of Mr. Tanner’s ensemble class.”
They groaned, as if on cue.
“It’s time for things to get ship-shape around here. We thought this might be the solution.”
The girls stared at the principal. He looked them over and then shooed them away.
“Get to class. Mr. Tanner is expecting you.”
The halls were empty, but the large steel door to the band and choir room was wide open. The twins stopped just outside the class. Mr. Tanner was lecturing the class about discipline. Phoebe leaned forward and hissed, tring to get a classmate’s attention.
Mr. Tanner stopped as soon as a group of girls turned their head toward the door. Phoebe and Portia backed away. The footsteps clip-clopped across the floor until Mr. Tanner entered the hall.
“Come on in. We were just talking about you.”
The girls skittered to their seats as Mr. Tanner returned to the front of class.
"As I was saying, from now on, every student in my ensemble class is expected to be on their best behavior. Anyone stepping out of line between now and the end of April will not be allowed to go to the state competition in Philadelphia. As Mr. Coffman says, 'This class will be ship-shape starting right now.'"
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