When Ashley stepped into the conference room across the corridor from the Lyceum United Nations office, several other students were already there.
Only one of them did she know from the night before.
“Hi, Adiv! Did you take the tour?”
“Uh... yes! Tour. In Arabic too!”
“Good!”
“Hi!” said a freckle faced boy with reddish blond hair who was not much older than Ashley. “Are you really a champion gymnast?”
Ashley looked at Adiv accusingly, but she was smiling at the same time.
“Yeah. But that doesn’t mean I can speak any French yet!”
“I’m Tim,” he said with genuine friendliness.
Ashley could see that everyone else who had gathered in the room was at least seventeen or eighteen, so she was glad someone else was about her age.
She extended her hand. “Hi! I’m Ashley.”
He seemed surprised that she had returned his greeting, and clumsily shook her hand. “I really like watching gymnastics,” he said. “Tried to get into a class once, but the gym didn’t take boys.”
“That happens a lot. It’s not very popular with boys until high school.”
“Yeah. So I took ballet instead. I’m pretty good, but not any kind of champion.”
At that moment Scott and Tammy entered the room, and close behind them came a lady of about forty-five who was carrying a stack of small but
thick wire-bound books. Ashley could see that one o’clock was only two minutes away. She counted thirteen students. About a minute later, one more entered. Exactly on the hour Brother LeRoy stepped in and pulled the door closed behind him. All of the students jumped into seats at the big conference table.
“Good afternoon, and welcome to New York. I am Viviane Guise,” she said, pronouncing her name properly in French, with a definite continental accent. “Are we all here?” she asked, looking at Brother LeRoy.
He quickly finished his silent roll taking. “Yes. Fourteen.”
“In exactly one half hour, I will cease to speak English, and will begin to speak French. At the same point in time, all of you will cease to speak English, or any other language, and begin to speak French.”
Several moans could be heard.
“I’m sure you are all wondering how that could be possible, as about half of you speak no French at all, and the rest of you speak very little. It is quite simple. This afternoon you will be exposed to a few hundred words of French, and those will allow you to stumble along while you learn more. You will generally be together as a group during the trip, and so you will always have the safety and comfort of your fellow students and teachers nearby. That fact will eliminate the anxiety and fear that you might experience if you were alone, feelings which would cause you to revert to your comfortable native language. It is the mutual necessity of expressing yourselves — to each other, and to people you meet in the world — that will motivate you to build your vocabularies and your grammars very quickly. If you apply yourselves and complete the class, you will return here on July 13th with a fair conversational fluency. If you break any of the rules of the class, except as an occasional slip, you will be sent home and given a partial refund.”
Ashley was beginning to think that she had gotten in, as Tanya had said, way over her head. But at the same time she knew, deep down inside, that she was going to give it her best and not quit without trying.
“The prohibition on speaking other languages includes when a couple of you might be in a cafe in the evening, or when you might take a walk in the middle of the night, or when myself and LeRoy are both away from the group for any reason. If this prohibition is not followed, not only will you be slowing
down your own learning, but that of others in the class as well. We have found that an hour of speaking in your native language sets you back about a day in your learning of the new language. You have all paid for a class of this format. If you don’t like the idea, you should leave now while you can still get nearly a complete refund.”
One boy of about eighteen rose. “Sorry folks. This isn’t for me.” He headed for the door.
“Thank you for your honesty,” the teacher said. “Anyone else?”
The room was silent.
Then the teacher spoke in Arabic with Adiv for a minute. He smiled and nodded, and seemed comfortable with the rules. Ashley was glad. She was also glad Tim didn’t leave. She wondered how long Tammy would last.
After a few more rules, Brother LeRoy handed out the books while Dr.
Guise explained them.
“These are excellent little books that have French-English lexicons, grammar and usage tables, common phrases, vocabulary lists, exercise pages, and quizzes. We use them because all of the explanatory text is in French,”
she said, grinning. “Any questions?”
Ashley glanced through her copy of the reference and exercise book.
“What if there’s an emergency, and we don’t know how to explain the situation in French?” Tammy said in a slightly whiny voice.
“Emergencies are understandable exceptions to the regular class rules,”
the teacher said. “It is 1:29. Last chance...”
Ashley thought of a question. “Is it okay if we buy gifts for people while we’re there?”
“Of course. But unless they’re very tiny, you should plan to mail them back. Remember, we’re walking.”
The teacher waited for any last questions, but silence prevailed.
“Je,” she began in French, pointing at herself, and then motioned for the class to repeat her words. “Je... parle... Français,” she said, indicating herself and then pointing to words coming out of her mouth. “Tu... parles Français,”
she modified the form, pointing at the class members. With each phrase she motioned for them to repeat.
The class continued in the same manner for the next two hours. After the first half hour of working in French, Ashley didn’t even think about missing English. It was simply a game in which she was associating new sounds with nouns, verbs, and adjectives. “Le garçon marche trop vite,” she repeated, realizing with pride that she knew the meaning of every word in the phrase.
The boy walks too fast, she thought. Suddenly the teacher pointed at her and spoke.
“Ashley, marches-tu trop vite?”
Ashley thought. “Non, Je... est... assis,” she said, trying to remember words from ten minutes before. No, I’m sitting.
The teacher smiled at Ashley’s witty response. “Je suis assise.”
Ashley repeated the correction.
Just then the door opened and a cart rolled in filled with drinks and snacks.
“Thank goodness!” a young man said.
Dr. Guise immediately caught the student’s eye and put her finger to her lips. He realized he had slipped, and covered his mouth with his hand.
Ashley had already noticed that slipping into English did not get a French translation out of the teacher of the phrase that had been spoken.
Dr. Guise began examining each item on the cart in French, and having them repeat her phrases. Ashley realized the teacher was going to use every opportunity to teach them, and the thought didn’t bother her at all, even though several people in the room looked like they would have rather just started eating.
After they had learned many new words from the snack cart, she then began to engage each person in brief conversations about the foods, only passing out the items when the student responded appropriately. Ashley wasn’t very hungry, so she went last.
“Un banane, s’il vous plaît,” Ashley said.
“Une banane,” Viviane corrected.
“Oui, une banane, s’il vous plaît.”
Food, its preparation and consumption, its flavors and smells, formed the basis of the class for the next hour. Then Dr. Guise switched to the subjects of toileting and bathing, using so much laughter-provoking mime that no one
became embarrassed.
“Où se trouvent les toilettes?” Ashley repeated along with everyone else.
Her years of gymnastics had paid off in an unexpected way, making her completely comfortable with the subject of human bodily needs. She was glad.
In a sense the class soon ended for the day, but in another sense it was to go on right up until bedtime. Dr. Guise began explaining, in a combination of French and sign language, that they were next going to walk to Lyceum’s apartment, shower and change clothes, and then go out to eat. She made them repeat each new word and phrase she used. Ashley was really beginning to respect this teacher’s uncanny ability to sense when the meaning of a word had not been absorbed by everyone. It had happened often enough that day.
With the evening’s plan eventually clear to all the students, they crossed the hall to the Lyceum office, a few trying to make light conversation in French, but most not knowing how to begin.
“Um... aimes-tu... le Français?” freckled Tim said, catching up with Ashley.
“Oui.” Then she just giggled, realizing how hard it was to say anything that she was thinking. She looked forward to the day when it would be much easier.
A moment later they were greeted by Brother Calvin and Brother LeRoy coming out of a back room where they had been working. Both were speaking French. A few of the students made noises of exasperation that French was going to follow them everywhere they went. Ashley noticed that all of those who had arrived that day had luggage piled in one corner of the office. As soon as she saw that Tim had a large pack and a heavy suitcase, she stepped to his side.
“Um... J’aide... um... porter...?” she stumbled.
“Merci,” he said, admitting to himself that she was easily as strong as he was. He helped her settle the pack on her back, and they joined the line of students filing out of the office with Dr. Viviane Guise at the head and Brother LeRoy at the rear.
On the short walk to the apartment, their teacher continued teaching, telling them the French words for walkway, garden, street, traffic light,
building, and many others, always requiring them to repeat the words back to her. Some showed signs of embarrassment since they were now in public.
Ashley smiled to herself, knowing there would be no classrooms to hide in as they walked through Luxemburg and northern France.
When they were about halfway to the Lyceum apartment, Ashley noticed that they were down to twelve students. A lady of about twenty-two, whose name Ashley didn’t remember, was gone. Thinking back, the lady had seemed very frustrated all afternoon by not being able to speak English.
As Ashley expected, Sister Rae was there in the apartment when they arrived... speaking French. The next hour was very hard for most of the students as they went through routines like showering and dressing, but could not speak their native language. Several times the Lyceum staff had to remind them to not use English, especially when they were trying to express feelings.
Several of the young men resorted to growling or howling like a dog when they felt someone was taking too long in the shower. The Lyceum staff could only chuckle.
It was nearly seven o’clock when they finally trooped out of the apartment and headed down the street in the opposite direction from the United Nations, an occasional word or phrase in French coming from one of the students. Ashley noticed that only Sister Tamiko was missing — probably still at the office. She saw Tim a couple of people in front of her and dashed forward to join him.
“Allô. Vous... faim?” she asked, realizing she was missing a vowel, and having a hunch her grammar was wrong too.
“Oui!” he said, patting his stomach. “Nourriture... Français!”
Again they giggled, not knowing where to take their primitive conversation.
They entered the restaurant, La Petite Maison, and Brother LeRoy conversed with the hostess in fluent French. She showed them to the long table that had been reserved for them.
Adiv quickly pulled out a chair and gestured to it, saying, “Ashley, s’il vous plaît?” He had his hand on the adjacent chair, reserving it. Tim made himself scarce.
“Merci, Adiv!” she said, sitting down.
Then he pulled out the next chair, waved at Tim, and said, “Tim, s’il vous plaît?”
Tim was obviously surprised. “Um... merci... um... merci bien!” He sat down and smiled at Ashley, then up at Adiv.
Adiv took the next chair down, beside Tim, even though the one on the other side of Ashley was still free. Ashley wondered if they were witnessing Arabian customs first hand. Whatever the reason, Adiv’s actions made her respect him highly.
The meal came in seven or eight courses, some served from platters set in the middle of the candle-lit table, others brought in individual bowls or plates.
The Lyceum staff had spread themselves out amongst the students and constantly helped with the names of silverware, dishes, and the cuisine itself.
Sister Rae was seated on the other side of Ashley, and taught her and others within earshot the names of the condiments and sauces that they were using.
“Le poivre, est... frais,” Ashley said, using the pepper grinder.
“Oui,
fraîchement
moulu,” Sister Rae added, miming the grinding motion.
As the excellent meal progressed, everyone began to feel much more comfortable about the language they were learning, even though they had command of little more that a handful of nouns at that point. By the time they walked back to the Lyceum apartment, the New York evening was beginning to cool off a little and a refreshing breeze met them from the direction of the East River.
Ashley soon reconciled herself to the fact that she couldn’t get back to the United Nations museum that evening. Brother LeRoy gathered the twelve students in the living room and explained that they should do their laundry and then have the luggage they planned to take checked by the staff. His combination of simple French, sign language, and mime would have been hilarious in other circumstances, but they were getting used to it. He got across to them that no tents or bedding were needed, except the special linen blanket protectors that the youth hostels required. Also no cooking gear was needed, but each person should have a small water bottle. He emphasized that their French reference books were required, but that all English books and magazines had to be left behind.
Ashley quickly got her responsibilities out of the way by putting her
laundry into the indicated baskets and presenting her pack for inspection.
She surrendered a gymnastics magazine that she had brought along, but would be able to take everything else. They gave her a blanket protector and a water bottle, and she proudly found places for them in her little pack.
Tim had a problem. As best Ashley could gather, his mother had made him bring along enough stuff for a year-long world tour, but he was quite willing to trim it down. Brother Calvin worked with him to assemble a meaningful set of clothes and personal items, and gave him a pack of more appropriate size.
Ashley slipped into the recreation room to do her limbering and conditioning, knowing she only had about an hour before she wanted to be in bed. She was excited, but knew a good workout would help her to sleep.
Brother LeRoy woke them at five o’clock the next morning. As the twelve students began to stumble into the dining room, they found that a continental breakfast of coffee and juice, rolls and butter, and sliced meats and cheeses was already spread out on the table. In their groggy state, several students slipped into English, but everyone was soon reminded of the class rules.
By six o’clock, they were packing themselves into a van that was parked in front of the building, packs being pushed under the seats with an occasional word of French or a growl. Dr. Viviane Guise and Brother LeRoy climbed in with the students to begin talking in French about cars, vans, expressways, and related topics, and Sister Rae drove.
After only a few blocks, they were getting in line with other vehicles to pay their toll and enter the Queens Midtown Tunnel. As Ashley peered at the vastness of the construction they were driving through, and noticed the many air vents, fire control systems, electrical and communications boxes, and emergency escape doors, she began to have a greater appreciation for the much longer tunnels she had studied in school, the Chunnel between England and France and the Amasia Tunnel that connected Alaska and Siberia.
They burst back into the daylight on an expressway that quickly carved its way into the heart of the Queens district. Everywhere Ashley looked there was city, city, and more city, only interrupted by an occasional glimpse of river or bay in the distance. They turned onto the Van Wyck Expressway, and some
small lakes and trees paralleled their route for a couple of minutes, only to be swallowed by the ever present city as they continued southward. Soon they were entering what Ashley knew was one of the largest airports in the world.
She could see several of the huge trans-oceanic aircraft, one taking off if she looked to her right, another landing if she looked to her left. The van was approaching a massive building that identified itself as International Arrivals and Departures, over which a tall control tower loomed. Sister Rae guided the vehicle into a passenger unloading zone.
After extracting her pack from beneath the seat, Ashley stood beside the van and looked at all the people rushing into and out of the huge building.
Tim stepped beside her, his new pack on his back, looking much more comfortable than he had with his big suitcase. Adiv joined them and spoke the one French word they were all thinking.
“Grosse!”
Ashley and Tim both chuckled at the double meaning of the word, one French and one English, that Adiv didn’t seem to understand.
“Oui, Adiv, très grosse!” Ashley said in agreement.
Once everyone was standing on the sidewalk, the three Lyceum staff conferred in fluent French, clasped hands in farewell, and Sister Rae drove the now empty van back onto the airport loop road. Ashley watched her until she was out of sight, realizing that she liked the black lady very much.
Viviane and LeRoy guided the group into and through the bustling airport, speaking to them in patient French, making them repeat most new words and phrases, to their complete embarrassment.
Ashley almost felt like laughing when she found herself looking at a sign in English and for just a second not remembering what it meant.
Their first stop was the baggage check counter, where each pack was weighed, tagged, and tossed onto a moving belt.
As they continued their journey through the huge building, Ashley could see restaurants, snack bars, gift shops, barber and beauty shops, book stores, news stands, and even a veterinary office that offered pet boarding. Their next stop was the Air Luxemburg ticket counter. Dr. Guise began speaking French to the lady at the counter.
“Uh oh,” the ticket lady said, “Sylvie is the one who speaks French and
she’s on a break... um... un moment...”
“It’s okay,” Viviane said. “I speak English.”
Using simple French words or non-descript sounds, several of the students teased their teacher for breaking the rules of the class as she confirmed their reservations. When she finished talking with the ticket lady, she didn’t bother explaining to the class in French that the flight was leaving at 7:30, as they had already overheard the fact in English. But she did begin to teach them how to read times and dates in general, in French, using the airport’s flight status board as an example.
At seven o’clock they again followed their teachers, this time to their last destination on the North American continent, John F. Kennedy International Airport, Gate Fifteen.
Ashley stared with round eyes at the giant swept-wing jet aircraft that sat just outside the glass walls, its landing wheels far below them on the concrete taxiway, its tail stabilizer towering high above them. Elevated tunnels connected to the massive aircraft on both sides, and already passengers were presenting their tickets to the uniformed man and disappearing into the boarding tunnel that led to the near side of the plane. LeRoy asked the students to relax in the waiting area, and to get out their passports, which he collected and presented to the clerk. Ashley noticed that this one could speak French.
Tim appeared with a chocolate bar, broke it in two, and handed half to Ashley. “Pour vous,” he said.
She grinned with delight, and even noticed his use of the formal pronoun.
“Merci beaucoup!” She put a small piece in her mouth, re-wrapped the rest and placed it in her purse. “Mmmm!”
A few minutes later, Dr. Guise caught their attention and motioned for them to approach the boarding inspection counter. Each one was asked their name, received their passport back, and then walked through a sensor array and into the boarding tunnel. As soon as Ashley was in the tunnel, she looked behind her. Tim was next, and then Adiv. She smiled and dashed into the awaiting aircraft.
The inside of the big plane was even more plush than the trains she had ridden, with soft lighting, plenty of simulated wood grain, and curtains
covering utility areas. Signs in English, French, and what she guessed was German, led the way to restrooms and lounges. She quickly spotted Brother LeRoy waving to her from an area of seats where some of the students were already getting settled.
“Je assieds... avec... ami?” she said, hoping to sit with Tim and Adiv.
“Un ami?” he asked.
“Deux amis. Tim et Adiv.”
“Oui, ici,” he said, pointing to a row of three seats.
“Merci!” Ashley said and slid into the window seat just as Tim was arriving.
LeRoy motioned him in beside Ashley, to the lad’s obvious delight. Adiv joined them a moment later, and to cement their budding trilateral friendship, Ashley broke her remaining piece of chocolate into three pieces and handed one to each of her new male friends. Adiv attempted to refuse, but Ashley figured it was part of his Arab customs, and insisted. Finally, with a chuckle, he gave in and popped the chocolate into his mouth. Ashley grinned at both of them.
Ten minutes later all of the students were settled, a few other passengers had arrived, and the flight attendant was making announcements in English, French, and German. Ashley noticed Dr. Guise on the other side of the cabin helping a flight attendant to talk to some passengers in an oriental language.
There was a distinct muffling of the sound of the plane’s jet engines when the hatches were closed, and Ashley could see the boarding tunnel on her side retracting. A minute later she could see and feel that they had started to move... backwards.
Chapter 37: New Words, New Insights
Ashley’s five-hour trans-Atlantic crossing included a tasty but light lunch, as they would be losing five time zones and so arriving at almost dinner time.
She had never experienced jet lag before, but she thought she understood Adiv’s halting French and sign language when he tried to explain that they would have trouble getting to sleep that night, and waking up the next morning.
Out of respect for the other passengers, overt French lessons were not conducted in flight, but their conscientious teachers made sure they only had French language magazines and tourist brochures available.
Before and after lunch, they were free to visit the plane’s lounge, which the trio did a couple of times, Adiv insisting on buying soft drinks for them all.
But Ashley also loved just sitting in her seat and gazing out at the clouds and the deep blue surface of the ocean far below them.
As they were returning from the lounge for probably the last time, Ashley realized that it wasn’t very nice of her to be hogging the window seat for the entire flight, so she was adamant that they should switch places. Adiv was reluctant, but finally gave in, as long as she and Tim were still sitting together.
It was obvious to everyone that Adiv would never allow himself, or anyone else, to come between the younger boy and girl.
All too soon they had to belt themselves in for the landing at the only large airport in Luxemburg, just south of the capital city bearing the same name.
Their teachers were much more at ease and gave them considerable
freedom now that they were in a place where it would be very difficult for them to find conversants or literature in English. After passing through customs and getting their passports stamped, they spent an entire hour of free time at the airport changing money, browsing in the gift shops, and sampling the available snack foods. At about six o’clock in the evening, which felt like mid-day to the travelers, they began the seven kilometer walk into the city of Luxemburg.
As the countryside slowly gave way to European style houses and shops, everyone soon knew who was in good walking shape and who wasn’t. The teachers spoke in French about blisters, and proper walking shoes, and the correct way to pack their backpacks so that nothing was poking them. The students learned new words... and new methods of avoiding painful feet.
By seven o’clock they were gazing up at the medieval fortified city perched on the hill above them, old stone bridges spanning the ravines at low levels, and above those, modern spidery steel bridges flying directly from the city to the tops of the nearby bluffs. Dr. Guise led them to one of the old bridges, and nestled close under the city walls they found the modern youth hostel.
The students’ primitive French was somewhat comical to the youth hostel staff, but eventually the rules and customs were made clear to everyone.
Tammy was obviously upset that boys and girls had to be in separate dorms, but Ashley just smiled at Tim and Adiv and hurried to pick out a bed, as dozens of other young people were already there and still more were pouring in the door.
To help with their jet lag, the teachers had planned an evening of walking that would keep them out as late as the hostel allowed. They built their vocabularies with scores of new words about buildings and cities and streets, and visited a shoe store to better equip two of the students. Then they found a restaurant that could handle a group of their size and worked through European dining customs and etiquette before sinking their teeth into the delicious food. Ashley had a salad, but gladly accepted bites of Tim’s roast beef and Adiv’s pepperoni pizza.
To Ashley’s delight, the youth hostel had a recreation room with a tumbling mat, and she soon had an audience of admirers, including Tim who had not yet seen her skills. As she worked her way through her exercises, her
audience was able to supply her with most of the gymnastics terms in French.
She only quit when the hostel staff announced it was bedtime.
Everyone in the group had a hard time waking up the following morning, as their bodies still assumed it was five hours earlier than it actually was.
With their packs on their backs, they managed to get out of the hostel before it closed for the day at ten, but most of them were yawning until noon.
They joined other French travelers for a tour of the tunnels beneath the city’s walls, stonework that dated from the days of chivalry and siege. One of the students noticed that there was a tour in English a half hour later. Their teachers only smiled.
They spent the afternoon exploring the city further, picking up a few gifts for people back home, learning how to use the grocery stores, and eating a picnic lunch in a park on the edge of the old city. During that day and the next several, French lessons concentrated on building a strong vocabulary of nouns. Dr. Guise and Brother LeRoy had not failed to notice how quickly Ashley was building her vocabulary, and even, before most of the other students, her grammar.
About mid-afternoon they marched over one of the old stone bridges and said fare-well to the city of Luxemburg, walking along a winding road westward, and arriving at a small village just a few kilometers distant by evening. The youth hostel there was in a large old stone house, and the class nearly filled its available beds. All of them now felt they had passed the point of no-return — the airport was far behind, and the big city, where one could always find someone who knew English, had been replaced by a rural village where, as far as they could tell, the only language spoken was French. They were discovering what their teacher had meant about the group bringing them a necessary sense of safety and comfort.
All that week, they worked their way west and south along back roads and walking paths, entering France on their third day out. The youth hostels were usually in farm houses or converted town houses, but one night was spent in an old monastery where a handful of monks still lived a very simple, austere existence.
Ashley found she was completely comfortable with their days of walking and learning French, their meals in local cafes, their evenings of working in their exercise books, and their nights in hostels where she usually found at least a piece of rug on which to do her limbering and conditioning. She no longer missed speaking English at all, although she knew some of the older students missed it sorely.
She and Tim found themselves wanting to be together most of the time, and even though Tim had a better vocabulary of French nouns and adjectives, Ashley seemed to be picking up the verbs faster. But on Brother LeRoy’s advice, they didn’t try to speak for each other when talking to a third person, but only lent each other words to be built into sentences by the one speaking.
Adiv spent some time with them, but also respectfully gave them plenty of time without him. He was beginning to strike up a friendship with Scott, who had decided that he didn’t want to hang around Tammy anymore. Seeing this drama unfold, Ashley just smiled at Tim, who could only shrug and smile back.
Toward the end of the first week, two students left, deciding they wanted to just vacation in Europe instead of deal with the constant pressure of the French lessons. Seeing them leave, Ashley’s determination to finish the class was only made stronger.
Their second week brought the study of verbs and adverbs into full swing, and adding those to their many nouns and adjectives allowed them to create much more useful sentences.
They were now in flatter country in France where many kinds of crops were growing in the fields. One day, to everyone’s delight, a farmer invited them to hunt through his strawberry field for the remaining fruit after a successful harvest. They all needed to take showers and wash clothes that evening.
Ashley had begun to haunt the little shops in the towns they were passing through whenever she could, and one day that week she found gift boxes of European candies, meats, cheeses, and nuts, and sent a large one to her parents and smaller ones to Julie, Jenny, and Sister Heather. She included greeting cards with brief messages in French, knowing she could translate for
them, if necessary, when she returned.
While at the post office addressing and buying stamps for the first four packages, she spotted another name in her address book, and ran back to the little shop to buy another gift box, this one going to Kimberly and Jack Collins in Omaha, Nebraska.
Toward the end of the second week, they were in a medium-size town, about as far south in France as they were planning to go. They had just checked into the youth hostel and had the entire evening free to do with as they pleased. With some difficulty, both because of his imperfect French and because of the magnitude of the moment, Tim asked Ashley if she would join him for dinner in the town.
With a glow on her face that everyone in the class noticed, she showered, washed her hair, and put on her best clothes.
For the first time on the trip they were completely on their own. It was easy enough for them to exchange greetings with the hostess of the dark, candle-lit dining room, but the menu challenged their language skills considerably. They were both determined, however, to stick to their French and to understand what all the selections were, even though they heard one of the waitresses speaking with some tourists in English.
After finally ordering their food and beverages, they spoke, as best they could, of all the interesting things that had happened on their trip so far. As was their habit, when the one speaking was at a loss, the other would suggest a word, and then let the speaker use the word or not, as they chose. Soon their food began to arrive, and their topics changed to the aromas and flavors of the meal.
When they had finished their dessert and were sipping on wine stems of sparkling fruit juice, not finding much else to say about their recent shared experiences, Tim suddenly acquired a gleam in his eye and a most mischievous smile on his face. He set down his glass, scooted his chair closer to Ashley, and without warning leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips.
Ashley wasn’t sure she breathed for the next minute. Her heart was throbbing and her mind was spinning. The memory of Chad came to her, and
she realized her feelings were similar, but also different. With Chad it had been a very physical longing. The physical longing was definitely there with Tim, but there was so much more to go along with it. She had already shared so many things with him — aching muscles, laughter, blisters, singing songs in French, dripping sweat on hot sunny days, awe inspiring views, dirty laundry, delicious food and drink, getting lost in a maze of unmarked trails, candy bars, conditioning exercises, and the constant struggle to understand a new language.
She looked at him. He was just sitting there, his red hair a little out of place, his freckled face blotchy with half-peeled sun burn, his eyes just looking at her, probably wondering what she was thinking, a slight smile of happiness on his lips. She knew what it was time to do. With the name Tim echoing softly in her mind, she leaned toward him and kissed him, also gently on the lips.
They didn’t speak another word to each other that evening, in any language. None were needed. The waitress refilled their glasses, and they sat there, side by side, sipping their beverages and looking into each other’s eyes.
The glow of the moment was all they needed. Ashley, in her own heart, knew that she had only been attracted to Chad, but that she loved Tim, with every bit of love inside her.
Eventually the waitress explained gently that the restaurant was closing soon, so they rose as if in a dream, paid their bill and left a tip, and floated back to the youth hostel. They never saw the smiles and smirks on others’
faces, because they were only looking at each other for the rest of that warm, golden summer evening, in the comfortable common room, in a small cozy youth hostel, somewhere in northern France...
The third week of the class brought an intense period of getting all their word forms correct, from the easy gender agreements, to the difficult irregular verb conjugations and tenses.
“Nous faire... avais... tant que... bien bon.”
Brother LeRoy smiled understandingly. “Nous l’avons...”
“Nous faire l’avons...”
The teacher indicated swapping the order with his hands.
“Nous l’avons faire... tant que bien bon.”
“...fait...” he corrected, pointing behind himself to imply the past tense.
“Nous l’avons fait...!”
“Oui!” Brother LeRoy reinforced.
“...tant que bien bon.”
Again the order-swapping signal. “...tant bien...”
“... tant bien que bon?”
“... tant bien que...?” the teacher prompted.
Suddenly the student’s face lit up with understanding. “Non tant bien que bon! Tant bien que mal!”
“Oui, oui!” LeRoy said with a smile.
“Nous l’avons... fait... tant bien que mal!”
The teacher flashed the student a thumbs-up, and went off to help someone else.
They began working their way northward again, through a part of France that had been fought over repeatedly and had changed hands many times throughout history, most recently in World War II.
Ashley and Tim, with Adiv’s big brotherly guidance, now had the task of fitting their feelings for each other into their daily routine, which still included things like sore muscles, sweat, and dirty laundry. Adiv counseled them to do things together every day, and also to do things apart every day. Ashley began to wonder why she never saw Adiv flirting with any of the unattached young ladies in the class. She knew at least two of them would have loved it.
In about the middle of that week, Ashley had a profound experience that she never forgot. They were walking along a dirt road, when suddenly they could see an old concrete machine gun bunker sitting in the middle of a field.
Ashley stopped and gazed at it, and would not answer anyone’s questions or comments. Soon she started walking toward it, wading through the thick grass. Tim, Adiv, and a few others followed, while the rest of the class stopped for a break in the shade of a nearby tree.
The old rusty steel door was frozen on its hinges, but stood ajar. Slipping inside, she found machine gun rooms that faced in every direction, and other rooms without windows in the center, all of them covered with decades of
leaves, twigs, and old bird nests.
As Ashley peered at the crumbling concrete rooms, images formed and she could clearly see the soldiers at their guns, watching for movement in the fields around, their commanders conferring over maps in the interior rooms.
She could hear the frustration in their voices, their lack of understanding or caring about the purpose of their task. They were young, not much older than Tim. They were just boys, and they would much rather be dating girls than fighting a stupid war.
After a few minutes she remembered the exhibits in the museum at the United Nations, and many pieces of a giant puzzle began to connect themselves in her mind. World War II, the United Nations, Lyceum. She was trying to become a member of a place that was somehow tied into a web of events that had started long ago. World War II, the atomic bomb, the Nuclear Disarmament Treaty that she had heard about just before school was out.
That had something to do with the United Nations too, she remembered.
Lyceum was in the process of opening campuses all over the world. Another piece of the puzzle. Intensive language classes. English, Russian, and French required, Chinese, Arabic, German, Spanish, or Italian highly recommended.
The Olympics, where all nations came together to... not fight, not war against each other... but to play. The Olympics, where she hoped to be in two years, representing her country in the sport of gymnastics. The sculptured fountain, shaped like a globe, in the Main Lobby at Lyceum. It was all a giant, intertwined puzzle. And she knew that she was somehow a part of it.
Ten minutes later the others who had wandered out to the old bunker had seen all they wanted to see and were heading back to the road. Tim could tell Ashley was having some important thoughts, and just stood near her silently, trying to sense what she was thinking. A few minutes later she seemed to snap out of it, took his hand, and they returned to the road together.
During the forth week Dr. Guise and Brother LeRoy pushed them up to conversational speed rapidly. Ashley discovered that some words seemed to disappear entirely, and then laughed out loud when she realized that the same thing happened in English. Wha’cha wanna do?
One lady couldn’t take the pressure of the constant French instructions,
and decided to fly home. They were down to nine. Tammy was holding on by a thread, often getting angry and needing to take a walk to cool off. But she seemed determined to finish, and so Ashley felt motivated to help her whenever possible.
They reentered Luxemburg and Ashley began searching through the shops again. She found some small but very beautiful pieces of leaded glassware that she sent to her parents, a silk covered blank music book that she sent to Jenny, and a European travel simulation program that she sent to Julie. It could be set for English, German, French, or Spanish, and she looked forward to trying it herself on one of Julie’s powerful computers. In a grocery store she found a gift box of nuts and dried fruits that she sent to Tabitha and Karen at Lyceum. This time the greeting cards contained fairly long letters in complete sentences — all in French.
They passed the city of Luxemburg several kilometers to the east as they continued northward into the central part of the country, where they often heard German being spoken. But luckily for their purposes, nearly everyone still spoke French. Often they would stop in libraries they passed to look up topics of interest, and the teachers set aside times to read and discuss French newspapers and magazines they had purchased.
By the end of the week they were in central Luxemburg and preparing to head back south toward the capital city — and the airport. The group had become completely solid and many strong friendships had formed. With the support and gentle encouragement of all the others, Tammy had gotten over her rough spot and was speaking almost as well as everyone else.
The teachers continued to push the students’ conversational speed right up to the point where other travelers at the youth hostels could easily speak with them, and they began correcting slight problems in pronunciation. The students realized, as they listened to each other, that they were actually acquiring good French accents.
Their last youth hostel before returning to the city was a treat for all of them, as it was contained in part of an old castle, with the remainder of the castle, less well preserved, open for tours. As it was not a major tourist attraction, the guided tour was only conducted in French. That was okay with them. Their teachers had prepared them well, and they were ready for just
about anything in French that the world cared to throw at them.
That evening in the common room, most of them entered into conversations with other hostelers about their travels and their home towns.
Ashley and Tim talked for a long time with a young French couple traveling all over Europe by bicycle. Adiv spoke at length with a Belgian man who had been to Saudi Arabia. Tammy found herself teaching French to a girl from New Zealand who was heading for Switzerland by foot. That gave her an extra boost of confidence. It was one of the most satisfying evenings of their entire trip.
On July 12th they returned to the city of Luxemburg, checked into the big hostel again, and spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and sight-seeing.
Most of the students did not have any plans to get back to Europe soon, and so they would be saying good-bye to the continent in that beautiful city.
Ashley didn’t have much spending money left, but she wanted to get some post cards and some small souvenirs to take back. As she, Tim, and Adiv poked into little shops nestled in the old city walls, they laughed, remembering their first visit, just a few short weeks before, during which they hardly dared speak a word in the local language.
At the hostel that evening, they all entered into as many conversations with the staff, other travelers, and each other as they could, knowing that people who spoke fluent French would be scarce back home. In the recreation room, Ashley soon had a large audience, and she was proud to be able to talk about the sport of gymnastics with those who were interested... in fluent French.
“Le vol latéral est un des exercices les plus impressionables en gymnastique, mais il est effectivement très facile à réaliser après avoir maîtrisé la roue, et si la coordination et le mouvement de les jambes sont corrects...”
On their last day in Luxemburg, they had breakfast at the youth hostel, did some more shopping, and then went to a very fine restaurant for their last meal in Europe.
Ashley discovered she wasn’t prepared for that day. She had been clinging
to Tim from almost the moment they had emerged from their respective dorms in the youth hostel. She didn’t know how to put into words what she was feeling, in either French or English. It was a very deep down fear, almost a black dread, and she couldn’t think of any way to banish it. She knew that Tim lived in New Orleans, Louisiana, and that was a long way from Rapid City. And it was even farther from Portland, Oregon. But she tried to keep a smile on her face and not let her feelings spoil that special day.
About three o’clock they headed for the airport. No one complained of sore feet or lumpy packs this time, as the remaining nine students were now experienced walkers. They arrived with plenty of time to get snacks, search the gift shop for last minute finds, and write letters to friends and family that they wanted to mail from Europe. Ashley would not leave Tim’s side.
As five o’clock approached, they gathered at Gate Three and boarded the huge jetliner.
The five-hour flight back was fun, and they spent some time in the lounge speaking French and sipping soft drinks both before and after the flight attendants served dinner. But Adiv was starting to worry about Ashley. She was having a hard time even letting Tim out of her sight long enough to use the restroom.
When they arrived in New York City, many of them laughed when they realized it was the same time as when they had left Luxemburg — it was as if they had gone back in time. They had their passports stamped and found Brother Calvin waiting with a van in a passenger loading zone. He greeted them in French.
They drove directly to the United Nations and piled their packs in the Lyceum office, still speaking French. Dr. Guise and Brother LeRoy ushered them into the conference room and presented them with certificates of completion for the class, explaining that they were worth twelve credits toward college.
They all spent the next hour, still speaking French, exchanging farewells, writing messages in each other’s journals and diaries, swapping phone numbers and addresses, and, in some cases, shedding tears. Ashley did all of these things along with everyone else. It was only her feelings about Tim that she didn’t know what to do with.
Finally Dr. Viviane Guise stood in front of the class for the last time and raised her arms for silence. Everyone found a seat to listen to whatever their teacher, whom they had grown to honor and respect, had to say.
“The prohibition against speaking English... and Arabic... now ends. Do any of you remember how?”
They all looked at each other and burst out laughing. As soon as he could be heard, Adiv said something in Arabic, which Dr. Guise answered as she smiled. Several students asserted that they wanted to continue speaking French as long as they were with someone in the class.
Five of the remaining nine students prepared to leave for airports or train stations, as they had reservations that evening. Ashley was happy to learn that Tim’s flight wasn’t until the following evening. She knew she had a seat on a westbound train the following afternoon.
It was after five o’clock when they collected their packs from the office and stepped out into the corridor.
“You two... have problem. Yes?” Adiv said.
Ashley would have giggled at his English, which was much less fluent than his French, except that she wasn’t in a giggling mood. She didn’t know what to say.
“Yes, Adiv, we have a problem,” Tim said. “We love each other very much... but... we don’t live near each other.”
“Talk we... in garden?”
They both shrugged, not knowing what good it would do, and followed him out to the Garden of International Cooperation.
He led them to a bench in a part of the garden where there were few other people, and those few appeared to be heading for dinner. The East River was spread out before them, a barge slowly moving by, a hovercraft skimming the surface in the opposite direction.
“I... problem same,” Adiv said in a tone of admission.
“You do?” Ashley said. “You love a girl you can’t be with?”
“Yes, love. She... ten and three...”
“Thirteen?” Tim suggested.
“Yes, she thirteen. We meet... two years.”
“Two years ago?” Ashley asked.
“Yes. Live... different city... Saudi Arabia. I travel... get education. She...
Saudi Arabia,” he said and shrugged.
“She can’t travel with you? How often do you see her?” Tim asked.
“See... two time, three time... year.”
“That’s sad!” Ashley said.
“Not sad!” Adiv corrected. “I love... she love. We... happy!”
“But how can you stand being apart?” Tim asked.
“We... strong. Love... strong.”
“Aren’t you afraid she’ll find someone else?” Ashley asked.
“No. We... promised. If promise... no good, love no good. You two need...
promise.”
Ashley and Tim looked at each other. No words came to them for awhile, they just gazed into each other’s eyes, each one feasting on the look of their beloved.
Adiv said, “Remember, promise no good, love no good! I walk...
apartment.” And with those words he headed out of the garden and didn’t look back.
Several minutes later that part of the garden was completely empty and Adiv was long gone. Tim finally spoke.
“Je t’aime, Ashley. I would be very happy if I could be promised to you, even if we couldn’t be together for awhile.”
Ashley continued to look into his eyes for another long minute. Finally she spoke.
“I said no to a boy not long ago, even though he was very... handsome. I knew I wanted to wait for someone special, someone I could really love, someone I could really share things with other than just... physical things. I agree with Adiv — if we can’t handle being promised to each other while we’re apart, then our love isn’t very good.” She turned and looked across the river for a long moment, then turned back. “Je t’aime, Tim. I promise myself to you.”
They held each other for a long time, and only wandered toward the Lyceum apartment as the sun was sinking below the New York skyline.
Chapter 38: Burning the Candle at Both Ends That evening, their last in New York City, Ashley and Tim were both fairly quiet. It was not a quiet of sadness or loss — but rather the quiet of getting used to a new reality, the fact of having both promised to each other something they barely understood.
As Brother Calvin watched them, he could guess what they were going through. And he knew it was probably best they didn’t know too much about what they were getting themselves into.
Before falling into their beds completely exhausted, they exchanged addresses and telephone numbers, secrets they had never told anyone else before, and many of those very tender, very special first kisses.
The following morning, after breakfast with Sister Tamiko and Brother LeRoy, Tim was brimming over with some unrevealed surprise.
“Who put a dollar in you?” Ashley asked as they were doing the dishes and tidying up the kitchen together.
“Oh... I just had an idea.”
“I’m dying of curiosity!”
“Go on a walk with me after chores?”
“Sure! Where to?”
“Secret!”
Nothing Ashley could say or do would pry any more information out of him, so she grabbed her purse and followed him out onto the New York
streets.
“Where
are we going, anyway?” she asked as they strode along.
“Actually, I’m not sure. But it seems like you can find just about anything you want within a block or two of anywhere else in this city. Over there!” he said, grabbed her hand, and together they ran to the next corner and crossed just before the light turned red. A moment later they were entering a jewelry store.
All of the clerks were busy, so Tim just looked in all the display cases until he found the charms and occasion jewelry.
“Over here, Ashley!”
She looked into the case where he was pointing.
“There! See it? It’s an old tradition. It supposed to be a broken coin, and the boy wears one half, and the girl wears the other half, until they can be together always.”
Ashley peered at the gold coin, each half made into a necklace. It seemed to symbolize exactly what they were going through. At two o’clock, Ashley had to get onto a train that would take her far away from Tim for... she didn’t know how long. She would still love him, she would still be promised to him, but something wouldn’t be right, something would be broken until they could be together again.
“It’s perfect!” she said. Then she looked at the price tag. She knew she had barely enough for half the cost. She wouldn’t be able to eat any meals in the dining car on her way home. That was okay. She’d get a few things at a grocery store to keep herself going. “I can pay for half of it!”
“Are you sure? I could take care of the whole thing...” he said.
“Yeah. I want to. I want to do my share of everything.”
“Can I help you youngsters?” the white-haired clerk asked from behind his wire rim spectacles.
“We want that broken coin necklace there,” Tim said.
“The mizpah,” he said. “Fourteen carat gold plated... inscribed with ancient Hebrew words. Translation is in the little booklet. Anything else?”
“That’s everything,” Ashley said, digging out her money. Tim dug into his pocket, and soon they had their small purchase in a tiny bag and were back on the streets of New York.
“Where should we go?” Tim wondered out loud.
“The United Nations!” Ashley said. “In the garden.”
“Okay!”
They ran all the way there. It was still morning and the sun was in front of them over the East River as they sat down on the same bench where their promise had begun. Tim opened the little bag and the tiny box inside.
With shaking hands, they put the necklaces onto each other.
“I’ll wait for you,” Ashley said.
“I won’t love anyone else,” Tim said.
They kissed and held each other close, both wishing that somehow they could stop the flow of time so that no trains or airplanes would take them away from each other.
But time continued flowing anyway, and the day was rapidly getting hot.
They began to walk, hand in hand, first in the garden, then inside the buildings. Sister Rae wished them well when they stopped by the Lyceum office to say good-bye. Ashley steered them into the museum, and looked at more of the World War II exhibits, but found she wasn’t in a very studious mood. Tim bought them lunch in the Promenade of Nations for the last time, including chocolates from the Deutschland shop. Shortly after noon they were wandering toward the Lyceum apartment, glancing back at the sparkling and majestic United Nations Headquarters until they finally had to turn a corner and it was no longer in sight.
After getting Ashley’s pack and saying good-bye to Brother LeRoy, Tim walked Ashley to Pennsylvania Station. They talked about all the things they hoped to do during the following year, and all the times they might be able to see each other. Tim promised to write and call as often as he could, and to send pictures and other little things. Ashley promised to let him know if she was accepted for membership at Lyceum. Tim wanted to attend any gymnastics events she was in that he could get to, and Ashley vowed to include him in all her vacation plans.
At two o’clock they were standing on the platform beside the shiny passenger train, holding each other as tightly as they could.
“All aboard!” the conductor called from beside the open doorway to the coach.
They separated enough to look into each other’s faces.
“Strong?” Tim asked.
“Strong!” Ashley acknowledged.
They kissed gently one last time, just as they had that evening in a restaurant somewhere in northern France. Ashley dashed onto the train, the conductor pulled the door closed, and a moment later the train started to move.
The two day train trip home was a very thoughtful time for Ashley. A bag of carrots, a box of whole grain crackers, and two cups of yogurt sustained her... along with the knowledge that the rest of her money had gone into gifts for friends she loved, and half the cost of the golden token that hung around her neck, and around the neck of one certain very special, very handsome boy.
Life was unfolding very quickly, but she was ready for it. Many times during those two days she touched the broken coin that hung around her neck, smiling when she thought of where the other half rested. Her evening prayers now included the petition that she and Tim would be able to see each other often, and that someday they would be together permanently.
Most of the other passengers came and went in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Omaha, Denver, and smaller towns in between. Finally, on the evening of July 16th, the train pulled alongside the station platform in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Knowing she had an hour until the bus northward departed, she walked the mile and a half to the bus station, munching on her last carrot and thinking of Tim.
As dawn crept into the sky and the bus wound through the Black Hills on its approach to Rapid City, Ashley was awake, thinking that even though she loved Luxemburg and France, and even though she would really enjoy living in the Pacific Northwest if Lyceum accepted her, the prairies of South Dakota would always be home. She decided, as the bus pulled into the station, that someday she wanted to share all the places she loved with Tim.
She arrived home just as her father was stepping out the door to go to work.
“Hi,
Dad!”
“Ashley, Honey! How are you?”
“Wonderful,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
Tears almost filled his eyes. He had been slowly realizing, over the previous year and a half, ever since Ashley had taken the gymnastics gold medal, but even more so since she had applied to Lyceum, that the only child who was destined to bear his name was going to do far greater things than he had ever done. It might have been easier for him to understand if it had been his natural child, and if it had been a boy. That was the way it would have made most sense to him.
But it was an orphaned girl who was hugging him and calling him Dad at that moment. He felt very proud... and a little confused. The French intensive class and European walking tour she had just returned from had only confirmed for him that she was destined for greater things than Rapid City, or any city in South Dakota, had to offer. Although he had never told her, he had made calls to determine the respectability of the class and the teachers, and in the process had learned the class’s usual cost. From a purely economic standpoint, he felt very fortunate that she had been able to have the experience with no more outlay from family savings than a round trip to New York City.
“So, how many words of French do you know?”
She looked at him with a proud, loving grin on her face. “That’s what I asked before the class started. When they told me that I’d be conversationally fluent by the time I got back, I didn’t really believe them. But I am!”
“Fluent, huh? I am one proud father, Ashley Marie Riddle. I’d better head for work. Do you have any time to spend with your old dad before you have to get on the bus again?”
“I hope so. I’d really like it if we could do something together...”
“How about dinner this evening? Your mother would like to go to the parish social, and I’m sure she’d love it if she didn’t have to cook.”
“Fantastic! What time?”
“Six
o’clock?”
“I’ll be ready!”
He kissed her on the cheek, and headed off to his job.
Ashley entered the house quietly, and found her mother in the kitchen
baking. “Ashley, Darling!” she shouted, encircling her adopted daughter with arms that were partly covered with flour. “I’m so happy you’re home! Your father just left for work...”
“I talked to him. We’re going out to dinner tonight, so you can go to the parish hall without having to cook for us!”
“Oh, I don’t mind cooking for the people I love!”
Ashley realized her mother was crying.
“And I’m so glad you’re home. I worried about you, Ashley. Did anything bad happen? You’ve been gone so long, and you’ve traveled so far...”
“I’m fine, Mom. A little sun burned, maybe.” They separated and looked at each other. “I’m a big girl now, Mom. You don’t have to worry about me.
And I can speak French!”
Her mother grabbed a paper towel and dried her eyes. “You don’t know how proud of you I am, Honey. Mrs. Parker from the parish speaks French, and wants a chance to talk to you while you’re here.”
“Sure, I guess so...”
“I’ll call her. Have you eaten breakfast?”
Ashley spent the next three hours telling her mother all about her trip and the French class. Her mother called Mrs. Parker and they all agreed to meet for lunch. She hadn’t quite realized how many people she wanted to visit with during the next two days, and how little time she was going to have with each of them. Mrs. Parker hadn’t been on her list, but she figured that it was worth it if it would make her mother happy and give her a change to show that she had actually learned something during her month-long absence.
Ashley did the dishes while her mother finished baking, and they walked to a nearby coffee shop to meet Mrs. Parker at one o’clock.
“Bonjour, Ashley! Comment es tu?” Mrs. Parker said as they met near the cash register.
Ashley tried very hard to hide her mental cringe at the lady’s incorrect French grammar. “Bien, mais je ne sais pas quand je pourrai visiter tous mes amis,” Ashley replied naturally, having started to think about when she could squeeze in visits with Jenny, Julie, and if possible her old coaches at the gym.
She soon sensed that something was wrong. Mrs. Parker looked
uncomfortable and responded with words that didn’t acknowledge anything Ashley had said. Not wanting to offend, Ashley quickly began to tailor her responses so that they only answered the church lady’s questions, with words as simple as possible, and no elaboration. And even though Ashley knew her own French wasn’t perfect, she could spot glaring pronunciation and grammar errors in Mrs. Parker’s phrases, which were totally devoid of anything that could be called a French accent.
By the time her salad arrived, Ashley had figured out what was happening.
Mrs. Parker had never been to France, or Quebec, or any other place where French was spoken. She had taken classes in high school, and proudly remembered some of what she had learned. And she liked to make sure that everyone in the parish knew that she spoke French, at least compared to most people in Rapid City.
Ashley made the best of the situation. She didn’t feel the need to show off in front of the lady. She knew she could speak French. And more importantly to her, she had never heard anyone from Lyceum brag about their knowledge.
As soon as Ashley got home, she called Julie and arranged to spend that night with her, and she called the Rapid City Convalescent Center and asked if she could spend the following evening with Jenny. The nurse was very happy that Ashley would be visiting, and asked if she would be doing any more volunteer work. Ashley was genuinely sorry that she couldn’t, and explained that she was only in town for two days.
Not long after Ashley had completed her calls, the telephone rang. She answered it. A very familiar boy’s voice came through the earpiece.
“May I speak to Ashley Riddle, please?”
“This is Ashley! How are you? How was your trip home?”
“Hi! I was afraid I might get your parents, and I didn’t know what they’d think about me calling you.”
“I still haven’t told them about you. I guess I should. I’m having dinner with my dad tonight. I just got here this morning and I haven’t even unpacked my pack yet!”
“I got home two days ago,” Tim said, “but when I told my mom I was promised to a girl, she thought I was trying to say you were pregnant, and she
wanted to pay for you to have an abortion and everything. I should have realized she wouldn’t understand.”
Ashley giggled. “You still wearing your broken coin?”
“Of course! I’m going to wear it all the time, except I have to take it off when I’m dancing.”
“Yeah, me too. No jewelry is allowed in the gym.”
They talked for another half hour, sharing little things that had happened on their respective trips home. Ashley related to Tim the tight schedule she had for the next two days, and Tim shared with her that his father had given him a hundred dollar bill for finishing the French class. Ashley gave Tim the telephone number at Lyceum, but told him she didn’t know when she would be free. She promised to call him during her first free evening.
Reluctantly they ended their first telephone conversation. They had both said all they could think of, and Ashley knew she had things to do, but still it was very hard to let go of their fragile electronic link. The good-byes and see-you-soons stretched on for several minutes, and both telephone handsets were lowered into their cradles only with great heartache and reluctance.
After sitting by the phone for several minutes in the glow of her feelings for Tim, Ashley finally noticed that it was almost four o’clock. She got busy cleaning out her pack, doing her laundry, showering, and selecting a dress to wear that evening. Then she started thinking about what she wanted to take with her to Lyceum.
Her father arrived home at 5:30, tired but looking forward to dinner with his adopted daughter — possibly, he knew, for the last time while she was still living in their house. A few minutes before six they met in the living room, he in comfortable sports clothes, she in a summer dress.
“My, my, I haven’t seen you in a dress in ages! How tall are you now, anyway?”
“I just passed four and a half feet!”
“Well, you won’t be scraping your head on the ceiling any time soon!
Where shall we go?”
“Your choice! Just... nothing French, please!” she said with a grin, knowing very well there were no French restaurants in Rapid City.
At that moment, her mother entered the room. “Well, well, you two look
ready to paint the town red!”
Ashley
giggled.
Her mother continued, “When do I get to go out with this handsome man you’ve got here?”
“How about tomorrow? Ashley will probably be with friends,” Mr. Riddle offered.
“I’d like to have dinner with Jenny at the nursing home tomorrow,” Ashley confirmed.
“Sounds like we have a date!” Mrs. Riddle said. “Maybe we can all go out for breakfast the morning she leaves. Sandy’s is open early enough...”
“Sounds good. Aren’t you going to be late for the parish social?”
“Nancy Corbin is picking me up, and she’s on her way now.”
Father and daughter headed out, hand in hand, into the warm South Dakota evening. Ashley told him everything that had happened in New York, and all about the United Nations Headquarters, and about the airport and the plane ride. They selected a place with a salad bar at Ashley’s request, and she continued by describing the city of Luxemburg in detail, and the smaller towns and youth hostels they had stayed in. She only omitted, as she had with her mother, one particular personal relationship.
When Ashley’s poached salmon arrived, she squeezed lemon juice all over it while telling her father about the World War II bunker, the little shops where she had found the gifts she sent home, and the beautiful central Luxemburg countryside.
“And they gave me a certificate of completion that’s worth twelve college credits! I’ll show it to you when we get home. That means I’ve already got thirteen credits in all toward college!”
“Amazing,” her father said, savoring his prime rib. “Your mother already told me how your French put Mrs. Parker in her place.”
“I tried to be nice, but really Dad, she doesn’t speak much French.”
“No complaints here. I’ve never liked her constant bragging. You’ve got more modesty than she does, and she’s a grown woman.”
Ashley nibbled at her salad in silence for a few moments. “There’s one other thing that happened that I want to tell you about, Dad.”
“Sure...”
“I met a very nice boy.”
He was silent for awhile, dipping his roll into the meat juices left on his plate. “Was it a... good experience?”
“Wonderful!” His initially respectful response had opened the door. “His name is Tim, and he’s fourteen, and he was in the class with me. He lives in New Orleans, and look, Dad!” She took off her mizpah coin necklace and handed it to him. “We promised to wait for each other!”
He gazed at the shiny gold charm that his daughter had been wearing next to her heart. He knew this moment had to come sometime, and he was glad that she had felt enough trust in him to be honest about her relationship. He also felt the parental instincts of protection, and questions poured into his mind about the character and intentions of the young man. He breathed deeply, and tried to remember how he had felt as a young man dating young ladies.
“Can I get you any dessert?” the waitress asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Um...
cheesecake?”
“Fresh baked on the premises!” she said. “And for you?” she said, turning to Ashley.
“I’ll just have a bite of his.”
The waitress left. He handed the precious necklace back to his daughter and looked at her. He could see the expectant look in her eyes. “If you and he can sustain your feelings for each other over that distance, then you are two very special, very strong kids, and my blessing goes with you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said with a radiant smile on her face. “I’m so glad I told you.”
“Do you have any... problems because of your relationship?”
“Nope. Everything’s under control, and will stay that way.”
“That’s good to hear. Have you told your mom?”
“No. I wasn’t sure how.”
His cheesecake arrived. “Let me break it to her tomorrow at dinner. She’s a little sensitive about these sorts of things.”
“Okay. I was hoping that I could get calls and mail from him and stuff like that...?”
“Of course, Honey! You’re a big girl, and we’ll give you all the guidance you need, but we’re not going to try and stop you from liking boys. We’re smart enough to know how impossible that would be!”
She grinned, picked up her fork, and snagged a bite of his cheesecake.
Ashley arrived at Julie’s house at about eight o’clock that evening.
“I’ve got so much to tell you!” she said even before she was inside the door.
“You wouldn’t believe the wonderful thing that happened!”
Julie somehow managed to keep her friend from blurting out too much sensitive information while she scooped out bowls of ice cream for them to take up to her room.
“...and he’s a ballet dancer, so we did a lot of the same limbering and conditioning exercises every morning and evening, and he’s quiet, and gentle, and it was so wonderful the night he took me to dinner and kissed me!”
“Whoa! You’re getting out of my league here,” Julie said. “I’ve decided I’m not going to get into boys until I’m at least thirteen.” Then she paused to think. “But there is a cute one in my church that always smiles at me...”
“Ah hah!” Ashley said. “You do like boys, I can tell!”
“And guess what?”
“What?”
“You’ve been a good influence on me. I signed up for an exercise class, and I’ve started eating salads!”
“Fantastic! How’s the computer program I sent you?”
“Incredible! I didn’t know 3-D real-time simulations that good were coming out of Europe. I’ve already sent for their catalog, and I’m going to get everything they sell if it’s all that good. It’s even got cute French boys!”
“Really?” Ashley said with a chuckle. “I didn’t look at many of the real ones while I was there. I was looking at Tim.”
“Do you have a picture of him?”
“Not yet. He’s got tons of freckles, and reddish hair, and he’s only about a foot taller than me.”
“Ashley,
everyone’s at least a foot taller than you.”
“I know. But he’s really sweet, and he doesn’t push me to do anything I don’t want to...”
“You mean... oh, no, don’t tell me... you mean you and him haven’t done it? You’re promised to someone and you haven’t done it with him yet?”
Ashley felt hurt. She remembered Tim saying his mother’s only concern was about her being pregnant. Didn’t anyone care about being in love anymore? Didn’t anyone want to know if their promises were good before they got into things that were hard, or impossible, to undo? Didn’t anyone just want to enjoy being young, and holding hands, and kissing? She thought about what she wanted to say to Julie, but her friend spoke first.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t a very nice thing to say. And I don’t really believe it anyway. I hope I can be promised to a boy someday, long before I start sleeping with him. That’s part of why I’m taking the exercise class and eating salads. Our family doctor gave me a lecture two weeks ago about where I was headed if I didn’t get my weight under control. You know, total obesity, heart disease, high blood pressure, all that. This ice cream is my first and only sugary snack all day.”
Ashley forgave her friend for her earlier comment. She knew Julie was probably going to have a hard time finding boyfriends. Her own training diet was so much a part of her life that it was completely ingrained, and it was very disturbing to her when she slipped from it more than just a little bit, because she knew how much her gymnastics depended on it. And she could imagine how hard it was going to be for Julie, who was used to eating a bowl of ice cream three or four times a day. Ashley reached out and took her friend’s hand.
“I feel the same way you do about boys. And I think you’re being really strong by starting to exercise and eat better. And I know there’s a cute boy waiting for you out there somewhere!”
“Hope you’re right. Want to try the Europe program?”
“Sure!”
For the next three hours the two girls giggled at the computer generated voices, and marveled at the excellent graphics of the eye-level tour that included barking dogs, canal boat operators who waved as they passed, and bicyclists who occasionally came too close for comfort. Most of the time they had English selected, and the accent was heavily British. Ashley requested they try the French, and found that she could understand most everything,
but reported that the French accent was unnaturally thick. The City of Luxemburg was on the tour itinerary, and Ashley told Julie all about it as the computer display entered the medieval walled city, but they found that the program could only show about half of the interesting places Ashley remembered.
About midnight they had had enough of Europe, but it was another two hours before they finally got to bed, talking as quietly as they could about school, and boys, and which restaurants in town had the best salads...
Julie’s mother finally poked her head into the room about nine o’clock the following morning. The temperature had not dropped much that night, and Julie was lying on her stomach under a sheet; her blankets had long before fallen to the floor beside the bed. Ashley was curled up under a sheet, but had rolled off the camping mattress she was using and was right in the middle of the floor.
“Good morning, girls!”
Julie lifted a groggy head. “Uh... good morning, Mom. We were up kinda late.”
“I know. I’m off to work, so you’ll have to make breakfast yourselves.
Think you can stay out of the ice cream?”
“I’ll make sure of it!” Ashley said from under the sheet. “How come my bed is so hard?”
Both Julie and her mother laughed. “You’re on the floor, dim wit!” Julie said.
Ashley poked her head out. “How’d that happen?”
“See you later, Julie. Nice seeing you again, Ashley! Have a good trip to Oregon.”
“Thanks!
Bye!”
They couldn’t resist returning to Europe for another hour, and Julie changed the program’s romance setting to maximum. The two girls were a constant stream of giggles as suave young men and slinky ladies came at them from out of almost every doorway and alleyway.
By noon they had finally torn themselves away from the computer, eaten frozen waffles and fresh fruit, and Ashley was beginning to realize that she
had many things to do before she went to visit Jenny at the nursing home.
When the clock in the living room had finished chiming the noon hour, they both became quiet.
“If you get accepted by Lyceum, I won’t see you much, will I?”
“I’ll be back for holidays and vacations sometimes, and you can come and visit me there if you want to.”
“Could I really? That would be neat. Everything you’ve told me about it sounds so... important. Know what I mean?”
Ashley pondered her friend’s comment for a moment, remembering Lyceum’s United Nations work, all the scientific research going on there, meetings of presidents and kings and the Pope. “Yeah. Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing trying to get into the place.”
“It’s right up your alley! You’re a champion gymnast, and you’ve already done some coaching, remember? And from what you told me, you practically ran the Special Olympics! And now you’re fluent in TWO different languages!”
Ashley felt a little embarrassed by what her friend was saying, but it was all true enough. After they had finally said all their good-byes and promised to write to each other, and Ashley was on her way home, she thought about her friend’s opinion that she would fit right in at Lyceum. Other people had told her similar things, but she had never quite believed them. For the first time it was beginning to make sense.
By the time she got home, there was a smile on her face, as she realized that maybe, just maybe, she could really be accepted at Lyceum, and could learn to do her part in all the things that went on there.
Ashley spent the next three hours thoughtfully cleaning her room and setting things aside that she wanted to take with her the following morning.
She decided to pack all her clothes into her little back pack as she had done on her first train trip, but also take a shoulder bag that she could keep with her all the time for souvenirs and other valuable things.
As she looked at her little pack, she realized what a good friend it had been, taking her to Oregon and back, then to New York and Luxemburg, and soon it would be returning with her to Lyceum again. She wondered for a
moment if she would get to stay in the Lodge room called Antelope a second time. She hoped so.
As she added a couple of leotards, a pair of sockies, and her palm guards to the pile of things to take, she suddenly knew that she wouldn’t be spending so much time in the gym on this trip. She was sure this would be her last chance to get into Lyceum, and she wasn’t going to do anything to blow it. She remembered Tabitha asking if she had any questions, or wanted to see other parts of the campus, or wanted to talk to any of the members about anything, and she had always just wanted to play in the gym.
This time she was going to make sure she understood everything, and talked to many different people, and saw the whole campus, before she started spending her free time doing gymnastics. She just might even peek in that cabinet full of books...
Four o’clock rolled around all too soon, and even though she was only three-quarters packed, Ashley headed for the nursing home. She had already resigned herself to the fact that there would be no time to visit her old gym before she had to leave for Oregon.
The Rapid City Convalescent Center looked about like it always did as she strode through the open front door, signed in at the nursing station, and stopped to greet a couple of the elderly residents who were in the living room.
She had been away from the unpleasant smells of the place for awhile, and they assaulted her nose more heavily than ever before. Just then one of the nursing assistants entered the room.
“Hi, Ashley! How’s Mr. Thompson?”
“We were just saying hello to each other. I think he might be a little too hot.”
“Yeah, we all are today. Air conditioning packed up yesterday, and the repairman had to order a part from Chicago. Would you like to go out on the porch, Mr. Thompson?” the aide asked, bending close to his ear.
The elderly man made a sound that could have meant anything, but both the aide and Ashley could tell from the tone that he was trying to express an affirmative.
“Are you visiting Jenny?”
“Yeah,” Ashley said.
“She
loved the things you sent her from Europe! I’m going to take Mr.
Thompson out. See you later!”
“Bye,
Mira!”
Ashley walked down the short hallway to Jenny’s room, but found it empty, so she continued down the hall to the little porch at the end and pushed the door open. There was Jenny in her wheelchair, much more lightly dressed than Ashley remembered her from earlier in the year, gazing out over the garden. What little hair she had left was tangled, and her clothes were mismatched and poorly fitting. Ashley crouched down in front of her younger friend.
“Hi, Jenny! How are you?”
The girl’s blue eyes revealed that she was happy to see Ashley, but her voice showed other emotions.
“I don’t know,” she said in a depressed tone. Then she started coughing and turned her head away from Ashley.
When her fit had passed, Ashley asked, “Did you get the goodies I sent you?”
“Yeah. They were nice. Thanks. I had to share them with my mom, but I did get to taste everything.”
Ashley was silent for awhile, remembering how much she disliked Jenny’s mother, even though she had never met the lady.
“Did you get the music book?” she finally said to try and crack the ice a little more.
“Yeah. I tried writing down some notes, but I’m not very good at it. I can’t play the recorder anymore you know.”
“Why not?” Ashley asked with disbelief, starting to see why Jenny was so sad.
“My lungs are going. Doctor says the recorder takes too much out of me, energy that I don’t have anymore.”
“So you can’t play your voices anymore?”
“Not much. Sometimes I still play a little bit, easy parts of the ones I know by heart. But practicing voices five and six is too hard. I just start coughing like crazy.”
“Gosh. That’s not fair! That music was so important to you!” Jenny may
have been taking the situation stoically, but Ashley sure couldn’t.
“What’s fair when you’re gonna die at ten? At least I made it to ten. One doctor didn’t think I would. So... tell me about your trip.”
Ashley found herself relating a very different version of the French class and European walking tour than she had shared with other people, one that emphasized the studying, and the hot, sweaty days of walking, and the sore feet. She tried to describe the cities and towns without making them sound too wonderful. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Jenny about Tim, or even Adiv. Jenny was never going to know what it was like to hold hands with a boy, or be kissed, or make promises like she and Tim had made.
After awhile the aide poked her head out the door.
“Dinner time! You can bring two trays out here if you guys want to.”
“Thanks, Mira,” Ashley said, and hopped up to brave the heat and odors inside long enough to fetch their dinners.
“Pew!” Ashley said, backing through the door with a tray in each hand. “I tried not to breath in there, but I couldn’t hold my breath long enough!”
For the first time that day, for the first time in many days, Jenny chuckled.
“It’s ripe in there, isn’t it? I wish I could sleep out here. I’m certainly not going back inside ‘til at least midnight!”
Ashley giggled. “Hey, chicken pot pie. One of the kitchen’s better items. I see they’ve got you on high calorie again.”
“Yeah. They think I’ll live a little longer if they can fatten me up.” She started eating her dessert.
The two girls ate in silence for awhile, occasionally making comments about one of the items on their trays.
Ashley had never felt so powerless. She seemed unable to give Jenny the slightest thing that her friend needed. The little gifts she had so far given the dying girl wound up going more to the girl’s mother than to the intended recipient.
What Jenny needed was life, and breath, and the ability to play the songs that she loved so much, and Ashley couldn’t think of anything she could do to help with those needs. Ashley knew what would make Jenny really happy before she died — to be able to play all seven voices of the symphony she had
composed. She couldn’t think of any way to help that goal come true.
“Want my dessert?” Ashley asked.
“Sure, if you don’t. Want my Brussels sprouts? Yuk!”
“Sure! Low cal source of vitamins and minerals!”
The gymnast traded dessert for vegetables with the terminally ill girl, and they both lapsed back into silence as they finished their dinners.
“How long can you stay?” Jenny asked.
“As long as you’ll have me. Midnight would be fine. We could go down to the snack bar later for real desserts if you want, you know, banana splits or something. My treat!”
“Wow. My mom never stays longer than half an hour. And never takes me anywhere.”
Ashley insisted that Jenny brush her hair and put on nicer clothes before they went out, and so with Mira’s assistance Jenny completed her after-dinner toileting and changed into a new pair of pants and a pretty summer blouse.
The nurse on duty told them that normally they should be back by nine o’clock, but considering the air conditioning was broken and Ashley was leaving town, they could stay out as late as they wanted.
Ashley pushed her to not one, but two different snack shops. First came the promised banana split, and later a root beer float. Between the two snack bars, they did some window shopping. Most of the stores were closed for the night, but Ashley bought Jenny a sparkly plastic necklace at the video rental shop.
Finally, as the twilight deepened sometime between ten and eleven o’clock, the pair of girls meandered to the nursing home, their strange profile silhouetted in the light of nearby street lamps.
Ashley did stay until midnight. Jenny had not been joking when she had vowed to stay out in the fresh air until then. That eight-hour visit was a very humbling experience for Ashley, who kept rolling around in her head the things she knew would make Jenny truly happy. Ashley had learned that she could bring happiness to the mentally handicapped people at the Pine Street Group Home with simple words and trinkets. But Jenny was not mentally handicapped. She knew all too well what she wanted to do, what she couldn’t do because of her poor health, and what she would never be able to do
because she wouldn’t live long enough.
They sat on the little porch savoring the night’s coolness, gazing at the garden lit by glaring flood lights — very different, Ashley thought, from the way Lyceum illuminated its gardens.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jenny asked suddenly.
Ashley hadn’t wanted to talk about Tim. She didn’t want to make Jenny even more aware of what she would be missing. But neither did she feel good about lying or holding back knowledge that her friend wanted.
“Yeah.”
“Please tell me what it’s like. I’ll never have one. I’d just like to know what it’s like.”
Ashley swallowed. What did Jenny need to hear... about having a boyfriend? What could she say that would give her friend strength, and not make her feel even more lonely? Suddenly she knew.
“See this broken coin necklace?” Ashley said, pulling it out of her blouse.
“Uh
huh.”
“It’s a symbol of a promise that I have with a freckle faced, red headed boy who lives in New Orleans.”
“Jeez.”
“Yeah, I know. Long ways away. Lots could happen between today and the next time I get to see him.”
They were both silent for a moment. Finally Ashley went on.
“You know when you go into a church, you always see a crucifix, or something like that?”
“Yeah...?”
“That’s a symbol for God’s promise to watch over us and let us go to heaven if we’re good.”
More thoughts started coming to Ashley, and she felt like she was going way out on a limb, but somehow they seemed like the thoughts that Jenny needed to hear.
“You know how the stars play music for you at night?”
“Oh, yes!” Jenny said, looking up at the sky.
“Those stars are promising that someday you’ll be a musician. Someday you’ll hear all seven voices played together, and then you’ll start writing even
more beautiful symphonies!”
“You
think
so?”
Their eyes met in earnest. “I know so, Jenny. And that’s what it’s like having a boyfriend. When you’re holding hands, it’s wonderful, like when you play your music, or when you take communion at church. But most of the time you just have to remind yourself of the promise, and wait, maybe for a long, long time.”
They were both silent for awhile.
“It’s my most special dream to someday hear all seven voices played together,” Jenny said, still looking up at the stars. Then she yawned a big, sleepy yawn. “Maybe I’m ready for bed.”
Ashley pushed her friend inside the building and into her room, but before she had even let go of the wheelchair handles, her own face twisted into an irresistible yawn. Jenny giggled. As the aide came in to get Jenny ready for bed, Ashley said she would call or write soon. The two young girls clasped hands and their eyes met.
“Remember the promises!” Ashley said in a soft voice.
“I will!” Jenny whispered.
Ashley did little besides bump into walls for the first few minutes after her father woke her at 4:30 the next morning. Her mother steered her into the shower and intentionally set the control value on a nice, cool setting.
“I’m awake, I’m awake!” she said from behind the plastic curtain.
As soon as she was out and wrapped in a towel, her father shoved a cup of very sweet coffee in her hand. “Drink! You have fifteen minutes to finish packing!” he said.
As soon as she stepped back into her room, she had to use all her will power to keep from falling back onto her bed and pulling the warm covers over her. To help resist the temptation, she quickly made her bed and put her pack and shoulder bag on it. She had most of her clothes picked out, but still needed to get out what was left of the little gifts she had brought back from Europe, make sure everything was in her purse, and grab a coat. When she finally felt ready, her father had the car running and was honking the horn.
They decided to eat breakfast at the all-night cafe just a block from the bus
station, and as soon as Ashley had ordered her scrambled eggs with diced ham and a fruit cup instead of hash browns, she dashed down to the bus station to make sure she had the right departure time. Yes, the man behind the counter assured her, the bus wouldn’t leave a minute before six o’clock.
Ashley ran back into the cafe, plopped into her seat and looked at her parents. All three broke out laughing at the same moment.
“Was I really running into walls before you stuck me in that cold shower?”
“You most certainly were!” her mother said.
She chuckled and sipped at her orange juice.
“Our daughter has learned to burn the candle at both ends, Honey. I just hope she isn’t still yawning when she arrives for her evaluation!”
“I’m going right back to sleep as soon as I get on the bus,” Ashley declared.
Soon their food arrived and they busied themselves with its timely consumption, noticing the clock rapidly making its way from 5:30 to 5:45.
By 5:52 they were at the bus station and the other passengers were already getting on.
Ashley stood there, pack on her back, shoulder bag at her side, ticket in her hand. She looked at the couple who had adopted her, given her a home, and a name, and the resources to continue her gymnastics training. Also, she reminded herself, they had given her the freedom to apply to Lyceum, travel to Oregon, to New York, to Luxemburg and France, and now back to Oregon for a second time. She couldn’t think of anything to say that expressed how thankful she was, so she just buried herself in their embrace and cried.
“Last call. Six o’clock run to Cheyenne,” the loud speaker said.
“You guys are the best parents in the whole world!” she managed to say through her tears just before she tore herself away and dashed onto the bus, still crying.
Ashley was occupied for a long time by the realization of how much she owed her parents, and how she was going to do everything she could to repay their kindness whenever she was able. And that decision was going to stand if Lyceum accepted her, or if she returned to Rapid City and was never more than a coffee shop waitress. She wasn’t able to get to sleep until the bus had carried her past the Black Hills and far into Wyoming.
When she finally woke, she was on the outskirts of Cheyenne and the afternoon was waning. As she had done just a few days before, she decided to walk between the stations, buying a taco to eat along the way.
As soon as Ashley stepped into the train station, she discovered her first opportunity to use her new language skills in a real-life situation. A family of two parents and a little boy was at the ticket counter attempting to communicate something to the Station Master. They were trying to make some French words be understood by speaking them slowly and loudly.
Naturally, it wasn’t working. Ashley’s heart pounded — they sounded so serious, and so desperate. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter.
“Que puis-je traduire pour vous?” she said, wondering if she could translate for them.
Everyone fell silent for a moment. Neither the French family nor the ticket man were used to having fluent French come from a little teeny bopper in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The little boy smiled, and Ashley smiled back at him.
“Oui!” the man finally said, and explained to Ashley what they wanted.
“They would like an economy bedroom on this evening’s train to Portland,” she told the ticket man. By this time most everyone in the station had gathered near to watch the drama.
“Well, that I can understand. Let me see what I can do...” He turned to his computer terminal.
Ashley spoke further with the family, and they told her that her accent was so good, they had almost asked what city in France she was from, until they noticed that her vocabulary was a little lean.
“I do not have an economy bedroom. I have one deluxe family bedroom available,” the ticket man said, and then quoted its cost. Ashley whistled to herself, realizing how much more it was than the discount coach seat she had reserved five weeks before. She explained, in French, what was available and what it cost.
“Oui, oui, il n’y a pas de probleme!” the French man said.
Ashley stepped back to the end of the line and waited for the family and two other people to get their tickets. Then she presented hers.
“Well, young lady, isn’t this about the forth time you’ve been through my station?” the same Station Master said who had once accused her of being too young to travel alone.
“Yep. It’s the nearest station to Rapid City.”
“That it is. Here’s your boarding pass. Thanks for helping out with the French folks. Train’s running about ten minutes late.”
The family had been so busy with their tickets and luggage that they hadn’t noticed Ashley get on the same train. But they were ecstatic when they entered the lounge car that evening to find her sitting at the snack counter.
After talking for awhile, they offered to buy all of Ashley’s meals on the train if she would baby-sit for them that evening and the following evening. Since Ashley and the boy of about six years had already exchanged friendly grins, and it would give her a chance to practice her French, she accepted.
Ashley found that between the baby-sitting and interpreting for them in the dining car, she spoke little but French for the next twenty-four hours.
While baby-sitting, she brought her belongings to their bedroom, and spent time with the little boy there, or in the lounge car, or in the dining car, while his parents had dinner alone and went to the bar.
When the train pulled into the Portland station on a cool but golden Pacific Northwest evening, the French couple collected their son from Ashley for the last time and handed her an envelope.
“Au revoir, Michel!” Ashley said, hugging the boy.
She slipped on her pack and shoulder bag and stopped by her seat to see if she had forgotten anything. There she took a moment to open the envelope.
It contained a signed traveler’s cheque and a card with their address on it, and on the back of the card was a message inviting her to visit any time she was in France. She smiled, slipped it into her shoulder bag, and headed for the exit stair.
As soon as she entered the station, she could see Sister Heather, with Tabitha and Karen beside her almost doing handsprings with excitement. A man with two suitcases was there also, and Ashley could vaguely remember seeing him on the train. Ashley joined them and shared hugs with her fellow gymnasts.
“Aren’t you the little French girl from the train?” the black-haired man of about forty asked.
Ashley giggled. “Actually I’m from South Dakota,” she said. “I earned some money baby-sitting and interpreting for a French family on the way here.”
“Comment vas-tu, Ashley?” Karen said.
“Prêt à tout!” Ashley replied with a grin, and she really did feel ready for whatever was about to come her way.