Falling Stars

  "We'd be distracted. It's what she believes, not what I believe," I added quickly. "But she threatened to send me home if I wore the ring in front of people."

  "Oh," he said sadly. "Hey," he said, "don't worry about it. She can't stop the flow of love from me to you." I smiled.

  He started to lift his head to kiss me again when my eyes caught a shadow moving over the wall. I turned to the window and then cried out. We heard her flee up the ladder.

  "What... what was that?" he asked.

  Now my heart was pounding to a different rhythm, thumping to a different drummer: abject fear.

  "Oh, no," I cried.

  "Was someone there? Was someone spying on us?" Chandler asked, sitting up quickly. "One of the boys? Steven? What? Tell me. Honey." he pleaded.

  Footsteps in the hallway made us both deadly silent for a moment. We listened and then heard them pass and begin to descend the stairs.

  "What's going on?" he whispered.

  "Get your clothes on. Chandler," I urged. I went for a nightgown quickly. He started to dress.

  "What's happening?"

  "I don't know," I said.

  "I don't understand. Was there someone out there or not?"

  "Yes, there was. There's someone living upstairs, someone none of us have met. We think it might be Madame Senetsky's daughter."

  "Well, why is she using the fire escape? Was she spying on you?"

  "I don't know. It's all very strange."

  "What did you mean by you think it's her daughter? Is it or isn't it?"

  "We're not sure. She looks like her son. but..."

  "So you've seen her?"

  "Yes. but..."

  "But what?"

  "Madame Senetsky told me her daughter died some time ago."

  "Huh?" He scratched his head and then shook it. "I don't understand."

  "I can't talk about it any-more," I said, hesitating to tell him the rest of it: how she dressed, the missing clothes. Evan's research.

  "But..."

  Just then, we definitely heard someone on the fire escape and turned to the window,

  "Don't move," Chandler said, inching toward it and urging me to lie back.

  He lunged at the window, pulling the curtain back farther to see Barry standing there.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "I came to tell you we'd better go. Rose is getting nervous."

  "How long were you out here?" Chandler asked him.

  "I just stepped up. why?"

  Chandler turned back to me.

  "I don't understand what you're saying," he continued as if Barry had never interrupted us. "Why haven't any of you met her? Why would she be spying on you? Does this mean she's going to tell Madame Senetsky about us?"

  "I don't know. Chandler. Let's leave it be for now. Barry's right. You'd better leave before something else happens, okay?"

  "I would feel terrible if I caused you to be thrown out of the school. Honey. Just terrible."

  I nodded, I was too frightened to think about it.

  "I'll call you in the morning before I leave for the airport," he said.

  He kissed me quickly and slipped out the window. I watched him and Barry descend. He looked up and waved and then they both ran to the driveway to disappear in the shadows and sneak out of the compound.

  I closed the window and thought. Would whoever that was tell what she had seen? Rose could be in big trouble. too. I put on my robe and quickly went to her room. I knocked softly.

  "Who is it?"

  "Me," I said, opening the door. Her lights were alit.

  "Honey? What's wrong?" she asked and turned on the lamp on her side table.

  I closed the door softly behind me.

  "She was at my window," I said. "While Chandler and I were..."

  "While you were making love?"

  "Yes. I mean. I don't know how long she was there or what she actually saw, but she surely saw he was there. Once she tells Madame Senetsky... Oh. Rose, how will I ever explain this to my parents?"

  I dropped onto her bed and started to weep.

  "We'd better tell the other two. Wait here," Rose said. "I'm going to get them."

  I sat in the dark, waiting. trembling. Moments later. Rose returned with Ice and Cinnamon right behind her. They closed the door and Rose put on another lamp.

  "What exactly happened?" Cinnamon asked in a loud whisper. I told her and everyone was quiet.

  "She might have looked in my window. too," Rose said, "and seen Barry as well."

  "This is disgusting, being spied upon like this. We have no lives here," Cinnamon muttered.

  "Amen to that." Ice said. "What should we do?" I asked.

  "Nothing. What can we do? We'll have to wait to see what happens tomorrow. I can tell you this," Cinnamon vowed. "if either of you are thrown out of this school because of this. I'm marching out right behind you."

  "Me, too," Ice said.

  "No. You can't ruin your careers because of me." I moaned. "Or me," Rose insisted.

  "I'll make it on my own. If we have such talent, nothing can stop us. It might take longer, but the price we'll pay for speed isn't worth it," Cinnamon said. "Don't worry about it. We'll all get jobs in the city and rent an apartment together and work at our careers. It might be more fun. anyway."

  "My parents wouldn't be happy about it," I said, even though it did sound good to me.

  "They'll get happy about it," Cinnamon insisted. She made me smile.

  "I told you-- one for all, all for one. Girls?"

  "Okay," Ice said. "They go, we all go."

  She put out her hand. Cinnamon covered it with hers. Rose gazed at me and then did the same, and then I did. For a moment we held onto each other tightly.

  "Lets get some sleep," Cinnamon said and started for the door. She stopped before opening it and turned to the rest of us. "But one more thing... even if nothing comes of this. I want to know what's happening up there. Who is that? Why is she spying on us?

  "Let's decide right now to find out.'

  "How?" Ice asked.

  "We'll pay her a visit again. Only this time..."

  "What this time?" I asked, holding my breath.

  "This time we go into the rooms. We confront her. We ask questions."

  No one spoke.

  All our hearts beat with the same mad, frightened rhythm. Cinnamon opened the door.

  "I've got to get a boyfriend, too. I need to have someone sneak up here," she joked. "That's a rule I'd enjoy breaking."

  Moments later, we were all in our beds, looking into the darkness, wondering what the morning would bring.

  11 Oranges and Lemons

  Almost telepathically, the four of us emerged from our respective roams simultaneously to go down to breakfast in the morning. We wore an air of anticipation around and over us like an invisible blanket. Every time someone came into the dining room, our eyes lifted together in expectation. Ms. Fairchild's steely footsteps in the corridor were like tiny knocks on our thumping hearts. Mast of the time, she walked by the roam without looking in to see what we were doing, but whenever she did, our collective breaths were frozen. All of us waited to hear. "Madame Senetsky wants you to report to her office now!"

  But we didn't hear the fatal words.

  Without any specific assignments to fulfill, we could have slept later. Steven and Howard certainly did, both appearing when the four of us were nearly finished.

  "What's going on here today?" Howard complained. "Usually, it's quieter than a cemetery on a Sunday."

  There did seem to be a great deal of activity in the house: doors opening and closing. Madame Senetsky's servants going to and fro. Ms. Fairchild looking in on us and then, without a word,

  disappearing into the private residence. We were all wondering what it meant.

  "So?" Steven asked, flopping into a chair at the table, "how did the rest of the evening go?"

  No one spoke. Surprised at the question. Howard looked at us and at Steven.

/>   "What rest of what evening?" he asked.

  "Didn't you hear any scurrying about the building last night? For a while there. I thought we were going to have an earthquake in New York."

  "No." Howard said. "What are you talking about now. Steven?"

  "Nothing," he said, smiling lustfully at Rose and me. "Or was it something?"

  Cinnamon was about to tell him off when Ms. Fairchild appeared in the doorway again.

  "The boy in the wheelchair is here," she announced with a grimace twisting her lips.

  "He's not the boy in the wheelchair. His name is Evan and he's my brother," Rose retorted.

  "Nevertheless, he's here and someone should assist him into the building. Everyone is too busy this morning to cater to anyone'sguests."

  We started out with Rose.

  "If you need any help. call," Howard shouted after us.

  "If I needed any help, he'd be the last one I'd call." Cinnamon muttered.

  The van was parked in front and the lift was lowering Evan in his chair. Rose gent down to him immediately. The driver came around to assist. It was a cloudy day, with threats of rain coming from the north. I felt a real chill in the air.

  "Hi. You guys were all great last night," Evan said as we approached.

  We all thanked him. He stared at us a moment and then looked to Rose.

  "What?" she asked, sensing he had something more important to tell us.

  "I've got about an hour," Evan said. "before I have to leave for the airport. Is there some place we can go to talk in private?"

  "Privately?Why?" Cinnamon asked quickly.

  "I did some more work last night. Couldn't sleep and went online with my notebook computer."

  No one spoke. Cinnamon looked back at the house. "What's wrong?" Evan asked.

  "If we go inside, Howard and Steven will be all over us," she replied. "And we can't set him upstairs into any of our rooms."

  "It looks like it's going to rain any minute," Ice said. "We can't stay out here,"

  "Look," I cried, and everyone followed my gaze to the third- floor front windows. A curtain quickly closed.

  "Was it her?" Ice asked.

  "I think so," I said.

  "It can't be her." Evan said. "Or at least who you all think it is."

  "Why not?" Cinnamon asked.

  Evan looked back at the van. His driver was sitting with the seat back, his eyes closed.

  "Just take me for a walk. The rain's a little way off," he said. "It won't take me long anyway."

  Rose got behind the wheelchair and we all started down a path toward the north side.

  Groundspeople were working. Their mowers and trimmers hummed.

  "What else have you learned?" Cinnamon practically demanded as soon as we were far enough from the house.

  We stopped at one of the benches. Ice and I sat. Rose and Cinnamon stood. with Evan at the center.

  "I went back to try to find out when Gerta left the clinic and came to live in New York with Madame Senetsky. When Honey said that Madame Senetsky told her that her daughter had died. I began to check the European newspapers."

  "And?" Cinnamon asked. Evan looked up at her.

  "A search for the name revealed an item on the obituary pages. It's true. Gerta Senetsky died."

  "How?" Ice asked.

  "They didn't say specifically in the obituary, but from what I could read in small news clippings, it looks to me like either a suicide or an accident."

  "If Gerta Senetsky is really dead, who is that up there?" Rose asked, gazing back at the building.

  "I don't know what to tell you. I haven't found any other relatives I could suggest." Evan said.

  "When did she die?" I asked.

  "A little less than a year after she entered the clinic," Evan replied.

  All of us stared at him.

  "Maybe that's a student who broke some rules and was locked up in the tower of Senetsky," Cinnamon grumbled, gazing back at the building.

  "How weird," Rose said and lowered herself slowly beside Ice and myself.

  "Maybe it's her ghost." Cinnamon suggested. half-kiddingly.

  "Please, not your spirits again," Rose moaned.

  We all stared at Evan for a long moment, and then Cinnamon's eyes widened.

  "From what you told us previously. Madame Senetsky's husband did commit suicide about that time, too. right?"

  "Yes, very soon afterward, but it's all been kept so vague. There are so few details."

  "This is getting too complicated. What do we do?" I asked.

  "If we keep trying to find out, this whole thing could explode in our faces," Rose suggested in a loud whisper.

  "Or Madame Senetsky's," Cinnamon countered. She stared at the house again and then turned back to us, her face etched with determination. "Tonight, girls, we go up there and confront our Peeping Missy, whatever her name is."

  "I don't know," Ice said, shaking her head. "Poking around like that."

  "We're not the ones who have been poking around. Ice. We have to find out what's going on. Rose is right. It's so weird, and who wants to be taped at and spied upon and robbed of clothes and..."

  "Cinnamon's right." Rose concluded. "I don't care what the consequences are. Let's get to the bottom of it."

  "I wish I could go up there with you," Evan said. "I've got a few more ideas I want to pursue. If you find out anything concrete, call me tonight. Call me any time. Rose."

  She nodded.

  "It's starting," I said when the first raindrop hit my cheek.

  "Come on in and have something hot to drink before you go, Evan." Rose said.

  We helped him into the house and to the dining room. where Steven and Howard were still having their breakfast. For the time being, we put aside our mystery and instead talked about the Performance Night, the people we had each met, and some of the things we were told. I saw how much Evan enjoyed our company, and I felt sorry for him having to return to a big home where his only companion was his computer and what its electronic tentacles could latch onto for him.

  We're all isolated in different ways, I thought. Even people who were in a city as big as this one, with so Feat a population, found themselves trapped in their own pockets of loneliness. Some brought their own isolation upon themselves with their conceited manner, living as if they were looking down at the rest of the world from an ivory tower. Despite her grand lifestyle and her many, many important

  acquaintances. Madame Senetsky struck me as someone who was not really happy. She was too concerned with being Madame Senetsky. I had yet to hear an authentic, free, and wonderful peal of laughter coming from her, see an honest smile or a look of pure wonder in her eyes.

  Mommy and Daddy lived on a farm in a very unsophisticated world by Madame Senetsky's standards. They worked very hard, but the work seemed naturally part of who and what they were. That was certainly true for Uncle Simon. The word work had an entirely different meaning for him when it came to his flowers. There was none of this contrivance, this myriad of defenses to construct around yourself so your reputation and your power over other people was constantly protected. Back home, they just nourished their work, not their image. It seemed that here our images were almost as important, if not more important than our talents, and protecting and building that image was a continuous, never-ending responsibility. Disaster for Madame Senetsky was probably being caught with her hair down.

  There were tears in Rose's eyes when she said goodbye to Evan. I had tears in my eyes, too. after Chandler called to say good-bye for a while.

  "Did you get into any trouble? Don't lie to me. Honey," he followed quickly. before I could contrive a false answer if there was need for one.

  "No, Chandler. No one has said a word about any of it this morning, and we've seen Ms. Fairchild a few times already."

  "Good," he said with relief in his voice. "Anyway, I'm going to work out another trip back here very soon. I've got some exams, and after that. I'll return."

  "I'll be w
aiting for you. Chandler."

  "Don't fall in love with any handsome actors, singers, or producers until I do return," he warned with a small laugh. His sincere fear was palpable.

  "I'm already in love. Chandler. I don't have room in my heart for another. This one takes up too much room," I told him.

  "And keep the ring under my pillow so I can dream about you every night,"

  I could almost hear his smile.

  We said our good-byes and then I cradled the phone and wiped the errant tears from my cheeks. I was in my room, sitting on my bed, reliving our wonderful love-making. My eyes shifted to my closet, and for a moment or two. I stared at my clothing without understanding why something was nudging at me. Then I rose and went to the rack.

  Moments later. I was downstairs again. Cinnamon. Rose. and Ice were watching television. Howard and Steven had gone to a movie.

  I paused in the doorway, my hand at the base of my throat. "What is it?" Cinnamon asked quickly.

  "My clothes," I said in a breathy voice. "the ones that had been taken?"

  "Yes."

  "They're all back in my closet!"

  "Really?" Cinnamon turned to Rose.

  "I'll go up and check mine," she said. rising. We all followed her and, sure enough, her missing clothing was back as well,

  "Do you think any of this had to do with all the commotion this morning?" I asked.

  "Maybe," Cinnamon said. nodding.

  "Why didn't anyone ask us about the clothing, why we didn't report it missing?" Rose wondered aloud.

  "Maybe they hoped you didn't notice." Ice suggested.

  "She's right. I bet." Cinnamon said. "It doesn't matter though. After dinner, tonight, we're going up that fire escape again, and this time, we're going into the room," she added, nailing down her determination with a look in her eyes that clearly said. "Don't disagree."

  It was still frightening, but with the way Cinnamon looked at us, we were all trying to decide what was more frightening: confronting the mystery or defying our very determined sister.

  Conducting our investigation without attracting Howard or Steven's attention was the first task. They returned from their movie and hovered about us, suggesting different ways to spend the evening together. Cinnamon and Rose claimed they had letters to write.