Post by Obelix Kappel on Apr 21, 2013 2:33:00 GMT -5
They had been riding for hours in the rental car that stank of a combination of air freshener, fake new car smell, and too many people whom Obelix did not care for jammed into too small a space.
At the wheel, because he did not get lost, was Dad. At least Dad was at the point where he no longer gloated. The desert beyond Los Angeles' urban sprawl fascinated him at first, but then it stopped being "country roads" and now it frightened him. "At least he was not going to have to live here," thought Obelix.
Next to Dad riding shotgun was NOT his girlfriend, Clarice, but instead Mathilda, another partner from The Firm. Mathilda like Dad was divorced and tired of looking after her darling daughter, and putting up with exhusband's demands for visitation. Levana was going into exile along with Obelix. The two prisoners occupied the back seat along with Levana's younger sibling, Pennina. Pennina probably wondered if she was next. Most of Levana's junk occupied the rear part of the car. Obelix' mother had sent her daughter's things ahead. The boarding school, Riverside, (what a dumb name!) probably offered "a better education" than public schools in Tulsa.
"Oh yeah, sure! Tell me another one!" thought Obelix. "No, it was not a behavior modification program. Behavior modification programs did not ask you what color you wanted your room painted or if you had your own furniture... At least I have a bedspread," thought Obelix. "She'd ordered the bedspread with the birthday money her father had bestowed on her and which her mother let her spend, however she chose even though she was rolling in it. Obelix liked the idea of rolling in $1400, one hundred dollars for each year. She intended to make it last. Now there would be nowhere to spend it except over the internet for which she had a debit card.
And...would they have internet out here? This was the west. This was the the empty void at the center of nowhere. This was not where the Donner Party had starved to death. It was south of that. It was Hunter S. Thompson County. Fear and Loathing in Inyo County, California. Cold nights...Hot days.... Air so dry your heels would fissure and your lips would crack and bleed. Levana sat plugged into earbuds, and Obelix could only guess what she was thinking. Let the misery be multiplied by more than two fold of two innocent girls sent into exile. Let synergy multiply it five fold, ten fold, a hundred fold.
"We turn off here," Mathilda informed Dad. Dad turned off onto a road that was still paved. All the state highways in this remote part of California were paved. There were a few trees, scruffy pines, and another desert species. There would be no Queen Anne's Lace here and no goldenrod or asters. This was hostile ground and the thought almost made Obelix cry.
Obelix forced herself to think about the good hotel breakfast she had eaten, Wheaties with a peach and skim milk. It was canned peaches, but one of the glorious parts of eating breakfast out was fruit for cereal, and a variety of juices. They'd have that in the dining hall according to Mom. It would be like Cornell Dining, only better. This was NOT a behavior modification camp. This was a boarding school. "They can't punish you unless you let them," Obelix tried to convince herself.
They traveled over the smooth, paved road, up an upgrade past the town of Independence with bristled with new construction and then around several curves. The school was at the top of a hill. It was a series of buildings with roofs pitched in stages like barn roofs, brick foundations and yellow stucco top halves trimmed in dark brown. Even the porches had pitched roofs and Mission furniture. Mathilda marveled at the furniture and that forestalled the usual lecture of conduct about how Obelix could be happy if she only did things, x, y, and z.
A parking lot attendant, probably a local with dark, Mexican features shooed the rental car and its captives from the choice spaces near the dusty open space ringed by florescent, plastic tape. Dad did not like having to walk a quarter mile through a sea of rental cars and a few owned ones, and some RV's. Then there was the crowd of families loathe to give up their adolescents; for according to officials who stood guard with clip boards and mobile devices and tablets, only students could enter the charmed circle of flourescent tape, and only if they entered the charmed circle could they receive the packets that would give them access to their dormitory rooms. Without the packet, there was no settling in.
Dad was not going to give his lecture after all. Neither was Mathilda. They each hugged their respective daughter and then took a place outside the tape, while the girls went to join the milling crowd of adolescents inside the line. Kids kicked at the ground, looked for pebbles to kick, fiddled with mobile devices and ear buds, scrounged in purses, fussed with sports equipment and fishing rods etc... Meanwhile the officials took their places behind folding tables set flush to the porch.
Suddenly an air horn pierced the mountain air. Several of the kids said "What the..." or an equivalent. "Now listen up," cried a voice through a megaphone. "When I call your name, come up to the table for your grade and get your packet. I hope I only have to call your name once." The voice was male and in Obelix' opinion belonged in middle school. Oh well, school was always school. Education was another matter.
"Elsa Andrews..." the voice began.
"Boring," said Levana to no one.
"What did you expect," answered Obelix who realized she was going to be standing around for a very long time.
At the wheel, because he did not get lost, was Dad. At least Dad was at the point where he no longer gloated. The desert beyond Los Angeles' urban sprawl fascinated him at first, but then it stopped being "country roads" and now it frightened him. "At least he was not going to have to live here," thought Obelix.
Next to Dad riding shotgun was NOT his girlfriend, Clarice, but instead Mathilda, another partner from The Firm. Mathilda like Dad was divorced and tired of looking after her darling daughter, and putting up with exhusband's demands for visitation. Levana was going into exile along with Obelix. The two prisoners occupied the back seat along with Levana's younger sibling, Pennina. Pennina probably wondered if she was next. Most of Levana's junk occupied the rear part of the car. Obelix' mother had sent her daughter's things ahead. The boarding school, Riverside, (what a dumb name!) probably offered "a better education" than public schools in Tulsa.
"Oh yeah, sure! Tell me another one!" thought Obelix. "No, it was not a behavior modification program. Behavior modification programs did not ask you what color you wanted your room painted or if you had your own furniture... At least I have a bedspread," thought Obelix. "She'd ordered the bedspread with the birthday money her father had bestowed on her and which her mother let her spend, however she chose even though she was rolling in it. Obelix liked the idea of rolling in $1400, one hundred dollars for each year. She intended to make it last. Now there would be nowhere to spend it except over the internet for which she had a debit card.
And...would they have internet out here? This was the west. This was the the empty void at the center of nowhere. This was not where the Donner Party had starved to death. It was south of that. It was Hunter S. Thompson County. Fear and Loathing in Inyo County, California. Cold nights...Hot days.... Air so dry your heels would fissure and your lips would crack and bleed. Levana sat plugged into earbuds, and Obelix could only guess what she was thinking. Let the misery be multiplied by more than two fold of two innocent girls sent into exile. Let synergy multiply it five fold, ten fold, a hundred fold.
"We turn off here," Mathilda informed Dad. Dad turned off onto a road that was still paved. All the state highways in this remote part of California were paved. There were a few trees, scruffy pines, and another desert species. There would be no Queen Anne's Lace here and no goldenrod or asters. This was hostile ground and the thought almost made Obelix cry.
Obelix forced herself to think about the good hotel breakfast she had eaten, Wheaties with a peach and skim milk. It was canned peaches, but one of the glorious parts of eating breakfast out was fruit for cereal, and a variety of juices. They'd have that in the dining hall according to Mom. It would be like Cornell Dining, only better. This was NOT a behavior modification camp. This was a boarding school. "They can't punish you unless you let them," Obelix tried to convince herself.
They traveled over the smooth, paved road, up an upgrade past the town of Independence with bristled with new construction and then around several curves. The school was at the top of a hill. It was a series of buildings with roofs pitched in stages like barn roofs, brick foundations and yellow stucco top halves trimmed in dark brown. Even the porches had pitched roofs and Mission furniture. Mathilda marveled at the furniture and that forestalled the usual lecture of conduct about how Obelix could be happy if she only did things, x, y, and z.
A parking lot attendant, probably a local with dark, Mexican features shooed the rental car and its captives from the choice spaces near the dusty open space ringed by florescent, plastic tape. Dad did not like having to walk a quarter mile through a sea of rental cars and a few owned ones, and some RV's. Then there was the crowd of families loathe to give up their adolescents; for according to officials who stood guard with clip boards and mobile devices and tablets, only students could enter the charmed circle of flourescent tape, and only if they entered the charmed circle could they receive the packets that would give them access to their dormitory rooms. Without the packet, there was no settling in.
Dad was not going to give his lecture after all. Neither was Mathilda. They each hugged their respective daughter and then took a place outside the tape, while the girls went to join the milling crowd of adolescents inside the line. Kids kicked at the ground, looked for pebbles to kick, fiddled with mobile devices and ear buds, scrounged in purses, fussed with sports equipment and fishing rods etc... Meanwhile the officials took their places behind folding tables set flush to the porch.
Suddenly an air horn pierced the mountain air. Several of the kids said "What the..." or an equivalent. "Now listen up," cried a voice through a megaphone. "When I call your name, come up to the table for your grade and get your packet. I hope I only have to call your name once." The voice was male and in Obelix' opinion belonged in middle school. Oh well, school was always school. Education was another matter.
"Elsa Andrews..." the voice began.
"Boring," said Levana to no one.
"What did you expect," answered Obelix who realized she was going to be standing around for a very long time.