The Initiation Read Online Free PDF Page B

had not made the trip with us—not that either of us had ever expected he might see his children off on the next stage of their lives—because James might have taken a tire iron to him if he had.
    Ralph was accommodating and wholly embarrassing as he carefully unpacked the back of the Lincoln and then joined us in delivering James to his dorm. Neither James nor I possessed the necessary constitution to tell the man to leave us be and drive off as quickly as possible. Instead, we endured the torture of his accompaniment and assistance with fake smiles plastered onto our unwilling faces. I looked, no doubt, like an American Girl Doll, while James took on a kind of X-Men action figure vibe. It was clear from our first ten minutes at Baskerville Academy we were doomed.
    I was delivered to a sorry-looking double room that had been converted into a triple. It possessed all the charm of a coat closet. Its bare gray walls and three bare mattresses, two of them stacked as bunk beds, reminded me of a reality television prison show. Throw in identical maple-veneered desks fronted by formed black-plastic-and-aluminum chairs to complete the joy of my first impression. My name was taped to the top bunk. Ralph sighed as he set down my bags.
    â€œYou okay, Mo?” he asked, as if there was anything he or I could do about my situation, good or bad.
    â€œCome back in five years and I’ll tell you.” I found ten dollars in my purse. I was not the idiot the others thought me to be; I’d been raised in the best city in America. I extended it toward him and he held up his hand as a sign of refusal.
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous, Moria! We’re family. I delivered your father to this school. Brought him home from graduation as well.”
    I knew Lois, Ralph, and others were loyal to Father, but I’d never known for how long.
    I’d heard an expression once, so I tried it on him. “So you know where all the skeletons are buried!” It meant that a person knew intimate secrets about another. Ralph didn’t seem to appreciate it.
    He smiled through slit eyes, looking distraught. “You have no idea how much I will miss you both.”
    â€œIt’s all right, Ralph,” I told him. “I suppose Father’s been preparing us for this for years. It just came a little sudden, at least for me. For James . . . well, if you deny something long enough you begin to believe it yourself. You know? Not that that makes any sense, but it does to me.”
    â€œMay I?” He opened his arms. We shared a brief, considerate hug, not at all awkward, and Ithanked him while holding on just a little too long. He patted my head and, as we separated, said, “You get yourself in any kind of trouble in this place, you call me. Your father doesn’t need to know everything.” He winked.
    I looked at him curiously, having no idea why he would think Baskerville would give me trouble. “O . . . K,” I said. With our final good-bye I found my throat tightening. He left. I wanted to call him back. I wanted to run to James and bury my head in his chest and cry. My friend. Maybe my only friend for a long time to come.
    Instead, I sat on the edge of the hard mattress. I liked soft mattresses. And spaghetti with no bay leaves, and a television on my wall, not a bunch of old tape-removal scars shadowing another’s decorations. I felt like I’d arrived at the party late—like everything nice had just come down.
    And me along with it.
    James’s experience proved altogether different than mine. He arrived to a decently proportioned dorm room, one bed neatly made with a dark gray Pendleton blanket as its top cover and a crisp white pillowcase neatly placed at an inviting slight angle.One of the two desks held a blue ceramic cup with pens and pencils, a magnetic paper clip holder, a stapler, a Post-It dispenser, and a cheap but effective desk lamp that clamped to the desktop and looked like a