Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight, Andrews, C. [classic books for 10 year olds .TXT] 📗

The four windows had no curtains over them. The walls were bare and there wasn't much of an interior or any other furniture. Only by the two beds that had mattresses, we saw what looked like two small wooden chests.

Teal raised her hand.

“What?”

“Who sleeps on those?” she asked.

“Those are Gia Carson's and Mindy Levine's beds. They've earned enough points to have an hour's recreation time in the library where they can read approved books and listen to approved music. They will be back here momentarily. I now advise the three of you to go to sleep.”

“I'm sure my father didn't pay all that money for me to sleep in a stinking barn,” Teal declared.

M'Lady Three stepped up so closely to her, their noses almost collided. “Okay, you're not sleeping in the barn. I'm sick of your whining. You've just lost the privilege.”

“Privilege?” Teal started to laugh. “You call sleeping in a barn a privilege?”

M'Lady Three nodded at the other two buddies, who then picked up a bunk and carried it out the door.

“Follow them,” Teal was told. She looked to us desperately for some help, but neither Robin nor I had the courage to say a word. With her head down like a flag of surrender, she walked out of the barn. I would never have thought sleeping in a barn was so great, but it had to be to be better than being out there, I thought.

At the door, M'Lady Three turned to Robin and me. “Go to sleep. You'll need every moment of rest you can get, believe me.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

“Any moment I'm going to wake up. Tell me that's true. Tell me I'm in a dream, a nightmare, and it's coming to an end,” Robin muttered in the tone of a prayer.

I just shook my head and sat on the first bare wooden cot. The surface was hard, but I didn't care.

“I'm so tired,” I whispered.

The lights in the barn flickered in warning that they would soon be out, then the door opened and two girlsentered. The first was a diminutive girl with a mop of hair the color of black licorice. She had large, dark, haunted eyes with a small, delicate nose and thin lips turned down in the corners. Each girl was dressed in a pair of blue coveralls with a faded white short-​sleeve shirt that looked more like a man's shirt than a woman's. They wore the same ugly shoes, too.

The second girl was tall and thin with hair so pale yellow it looked almost white. It hung down like dead straw over her ears, the bangs nearly over her eyes. My immediate thought was she was anorexic. Her wrists were slim and bony. I imagined that a strong handshake could shatter them. Her cheeks were sunken. The skin on her face was so taut it was transparent. Once, she must have had a pretty face, I decided. She had high cheekbones and a nearly perfect nose, but when she glanced our way, she never changed expression or in any way showed that she saw us. She looked more like someone dazed, moving in her sleep.

Both girls diverted their eyes to the floor and moved so softly, I had the sense they were floating in, gliding toward their bunks. They said nothing to each other, did nothing to indicate they were aware of each other.

Robin looked at me with quizzical eyes and shrugged.

The girls, still ignoring us, began to take off their coveralls and their ugly shoes, caked with mud. They did everything with great care as if they were performing a delicate lifesaving operation: folding their coveralls neatly and placing them in the chests beside their bunks, rolling their white stockings down and then again taking great pains to fold them perfectly as well and placing them in the trunks, all the while moving like two people in a hypnotic state.

Neither girl wore what we called diapers. They had ordinary-​looking panties and both had bras over what looked to me like quite underdeveloped breasts. How could two such fragile-​looking girls have gotten in the sort of trouble that would send them to a place like this? I wondered.

Because the door of the barn was still wide-​open, neither Robin nor I risked speaking to them. They didn't seem to care anyway. They still showed absolutely no interest in us. We watched them with fascination, however, as they both got under their blankets and lowered their heads to their pillows.

I felt like someone in a desert watching someone drinking a glass of cold, sparkling freshwater. Those bunks looked so comfortable. How rich they were to have an actual pillow, a soft mattress. When I glanced at Robin, I saw a similar covetous expression on her face.

M'Lady Two stood in the doorway.

“Lights out, girls,” she announced, and although I didn't see her throw any switch, the lights snapped off. It took a few moments to get used to the darkness. The starlight coming in through the four windows helped.

“Hey!” I chanced, calling to what I thought now were lucky girls. “Who are you? How long have you been here? Is this the only place for us to sleep?”

Neither responded.

“I'm Robin and that's Phoebe,” Robin added. “What are your names?”

Silence remained.

“What's wrong with you?” I asked. “No one's here. Can't you talk?”

“We're not going to bite you,” Robin said. They didn't budge. “You believe this?” she asked me.

“No. They're just being brats. What's your damnname?” I asked sharply, raising my voice a bit too loudly.

Suddenly, the door of the barn swung open and the lights went on.

M'Lady One was standing there.

“Who's talking?” she demanded. “Well, who is it? Confess or I'll hold you all accountable.”

The smaller girl sat up and pointed at me.

“She talked,” she accused.

My mouth dropped. How could she do that, squeal on me?

“Sure. It just had to be my girl,” M'Lady One muttered unhappily, “and after I thought she was beginning to do well.” She entered the barn and approached