The Secret of Zormna Clendar by Julie Steimle (best ereader for pdf TXT) 📕

at Zormna as the girl followed the lines in the ceiling with her eyes. Zormna was faintly aware the woman was talking to her. But she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be there. And the tiles above didn’t look sturdy. Made of foam, probably. Paper pulp, maybe. That wasn’t very stable construction material.

Then a bird landed outside the window. Zormna’s eyes immediately went to it. It fluttered, jerkily shifted its head as it hopped along the branch. So beautiful. And so delicate. A small, absorbed smirk spread Zormna’s lips. 

“Hmm.” The woman kept glancing at Zormna, rubbing her chin while thinking hard. “That would mean you would have to take the aptitude test.”

Hearing that, Zormna’s head popped back to attention. “A test?”

This was what she had been afraid of. She had to say something before things got out of hand.

The woman leaned over her desk and nodded at her. “Yes. From what I have here, we have no evidence that you have had any education at all.”

Zormna narrowed her eyes.

Mrs. McLenna had drawn in a sharp breath and peeked anxiously at Zormna. “Uh, excuse me, but—”

“I do not need school.” Zormna huffed. “I finished back—”

“What she means to say,” Mrs. McLenna interrupted, casting Zormna a sharp look to keep quiet, “is that—”

“No.” The school administrator cut her off. “Let her finish. I’d like to hear what attitude got this army brat sent to military school in the first place.”

Zormna raised her eyebrows. What was this term, army brat? It was probably similar to Jennifer’s notion—that people got sent off to military school as some kind of punishment. It was a new idea, one she probably would encounter repeatedly in the future. Zormna filed it in the back of her mind for future reference. Right now, this woman needed correction.

“Attitude?” Zormna bit back. “I assure you, Ms. Whatever-your-name-is, I chose to be in military school. What I do not appreciate is your attitude concerning me. You do not know me, and yet you have judged me. You are not fit to be an instructor for adolescents with an attitude like that!”

“Zormna!” Mrs. McLenna hopped up and grabbed the back of her overalls, pulling. “For heaven sake, contain yourself!”

Contain herself?

The school administrator had let out a loud “Yeep!” pushing back from the five-foot blonde. The wheels on her chair had slid backward with a bang against the filing cabinet. The potted plant on top of the cabinet tottered with the threat to fall.

Zormna looked about herself then at Mrs. McLenna. That moment she realized she was leaning forcibly over the desk with inclination to climb it to strangle the woman.

Blushing, she retreated and straightened herself out. What had come over her? Losing her temper was not a good way to start.

Then a clatter of feet sounded from the hall.

One overlarge security guard in a blue uniform and a willowy brunette swaying on her high heels rushed in through the doorway. The willowy woman blinked breathlessly at Zormna then at the cowering registrar who, for some reason, had her hands over her face.

Mrs. McLenna pulled Zormna farther from the desk by the straps of her overalls.

Zormna flushed. Where had her mind gone? She definitely was going about this all wrong. Ducking her head, Zormna gazed up apologetically to Mrs. McLenna.

  “Mrs. Carver?” The leggy brunette daintily trotted into the room. “Do you need help? We heard a shout.”

The registrar turned her head, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. She removed her hands from her face.

Mrs. McLenna immediately stepped forward. Using one arm go keep Zormna at bay (though she needn’t have bothered), she said, “I’m sorry. This blowup is my fault.”

She gently nudged Zormna towards the chair, getting her out of the way while she smoothed things over.

Zormna dropped down in it. Staring back up at the ceiling, vaguely, Zormna wondered if it was best to escape. She didn’t see a way out except through the window. The guard blocked the doorway. But at that moment, she would rather be anywhere but in that room. Especially as those women exchanged pleasantries while remarking ‘you know how teenagers are’ as if she wasn’t in the room listening to them.

“…so we have to take an assessment test to complete enrollment?” Mrs. McLenna finally asked, her damage control skills undeniably good.

Zormna cringed again in anticipation. A test. In English. This really was not good. She should have spoken up earlier and gotten the whole embarrassing deal over with.

“Yes,” the brunette replied. “And as luck would have it, I’m the testing proctor, Miss Silver. So, perhaps you two ought to come with me.”

Mrs. McLenna nodded with a smile then nudged Zormna to rise. “Thank you.”

Zormna heaved herself onto her feet. She ought to tell Jennifer’s mother the unpleasant facts right away. Sooner would be better than later.

But Jennifer’s mother pinched her on the arm the moment she stepped towards the door, hissing through the teeth, “And what should you say to Mrs. Carver?”

Oh please…. Rolling her eyes again, Zormna turned with a disgusted look at the registrar, then tried to wipe it off. It was difficult not to be petty at the moment. “I am sorry. I should not have been so impassioned.”

The room itself seemed to take in a breath. She had said something again that was not quite right, though she did not know what it was.

“Impassioned…” Mrs. Carver murmured, shaking her head.

Oh. That. Zormna sighed. Word choice. Right. Stick to simpler words. That had always been Alea Arden’s advice. She kept forgetting. Conversational English used easy-to-say words. It was just hard to tell what easy-to-say meant, sometimes. Was it words with precise meaning, aiding in brevity? Or words that had only so many syllables? Most likely the latter.

Mrs. Carver returned Zormna’s look with a smug little snort and replied, “Well, I should have expected a fiery Irish temper from you. Go on with Miss Silver. I’ll see that your files are sent over as soon as I am finished with them.”

The woman shooed them all out the door as one ridding herself of unwanted rubbish.

Ignoring the urge to react, Zormna returned to the hall, hoping to catch up with Jennifer’s mother before she and that other woman arrived at the testing room.

Miss Silver was fast. Trotting prettily on her spiked heels straight through the next door before Zormna could even reach Jennifer’s mother, Miss Silver went directly to the filing cabinet. Mrs. McLenna walked in after the woman, glancing at the nameplate. And she commented on it. “It says here that you’re the supervising director of testing services. That’s much more than just a testing proctor.”

Miss Silver blushed. “I was just recently promoted. I sometimes forget, you know.”

Zormna hurried in after them, her hands sweating now. Her eyes barely took in the yellow room. It was garnished with daisy patterns where the woman could get away with it. There was even a pot of silk daisies on the windowsill.

Hurrying to Jennifer’s mother, Zormna tugged on her elbow and whispered, “There is something I need to tell you.”

But Mrs. McLenna ignored her, continuing the conversation with the lady. “You were being modest.”

Miss Silver chuckled, smiling brightly. She drew out stapled forms from the cabinet, thick enough for a half-hour long examination.

The guard lingered in the doorway, critically peering after Zormna. She knew the look that he was giving her. It said, ‘troublemaker’. But his eyes also had a lecherous sneer.

A man like that…. Normally she would—

No. Zormna took in another deep breath and let it out again. Not here. Not now. At this point he was just doing his job. She was reading into his looks. Nothing more. She tugged on Mrs. McLenna’s arm again.

“It is important,” Zormna hissed to her.

Miss Silver trotted over to the round table in the open side of the room, setting the test down in front of a chair. She pulled a pencil cup towards it. Her eyes stroked Zormna’s figure with wonder before she said, “Use a number two pencil. Fill in the correct bubble completely, and choose only one answer. Be sure to read each question carefully first.”

Zormna emitted a weak moan. She gazed pleadingly to Mrs. McLenna who just shook her head, urging her silently to take the test.

Could she fake it? Zormna glanced over at the sheets, cringing at all the writing. Not likely. No.

She tugged on Mrs. McLenna’s arm again. “I really need to tell you something.”

“Finish the test quickly, then we can talk.” And Mrs. McLenna sat down, pulling out a thin iBook from her purse to read.

“But—”

“No.” Mrs. McLenna pointed sharply at the test, her eyes saying to sit and get started.

“But I—”

“Sit.”

“But really—”

“Not another word.”

Zormna set a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. Maybe she should just fill out the bubbles randomly. The woman wasn’t going to listen until she touched the thing.

“You should start now,” Miss Silver said, gently urging Zormna into the seat.

Heaving a sigh, Zormna plopped into the chair, shaking her head. She plucked a pencil from the cup.

“I said a number two pencil.” Miss Silver pulled one out and handed it to Zormna.

Setting the other pencil aside, Zormna muttered under her breath. “Then why have that one there?”

But Miss Silver walked back to her desk and sat down in her chair, picking up a mug of coffee. She cradled it with a pensive glance toward Zormna. Mrs. McLenna peeked up to the clock before opening an app to read.

Inspecting the top sheet to the test booklet, Zormna sighed. She flipped to the next page, then the next, muttering under her breath how dumb things had gotten. No one listened to her. Things were going all wrong….

She exhaled and shook her head.  

Mrs. McLenna leaned over to whisper. “Hurry it up, and we can leave.”

“You can’t help her, Ma’am,” Miss Silver warned from the other side of the room.

Zormna clenched her teeth, staring back at the paper. It was hopeless. She had to say something. Turning her head, she stated in a loud voice, “Look. I cannot take this test.”

“Why?” Mrs. McLenna peered at her, her voice as flat and dark as her glare.

“Because,” Zormna moaned. “I never exactly learned to read English letters.”

“What?” Miss Silver’s mouth popped open.

“Oh…of all the…” Mrs. McLenna set her iBook down and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Shrugging, Zormna flushed. “I…I was embarrassed. I never expected to actually emigrate here. It was just a—”

“Are you saying English isn’t your first language?” Miss Silver stared more, rising.

Zormna shook her head.

“Then how come you speak it so well?” Miss Silver asked, going back to her. “You had to have learned writing.”

Shrugging, Zormna said, “We used a phonetic system for—”

“So you never even studied the alphabet?” Mrs. McLenna quickly interrupted her.

Shrugging again, Zormna replied, “I may have had an overview on them. But since I never really intended to come here, I—”

“I see,” Mrs. McLenna briskly cut her off. With a prompt turn to Miss Silver, she said, “Since she cannot read printed English, I propose she become directly enrolled in a basic English course. You have a self-paced class I believe.”

Puzzled, Miss Silver replied, “We do. But wouldn’t it be better to put her in an English as a Second Language class. We have one of those for immigrants that would be more suitable for someone like her.”

Mrs. McLenna chuckled tiredly. “If you haven’t noticed, Zormna’s vocabulary is fine. She’s merely illiterate.”

“I wouldn’t say illiterate,” Zormna muttered. Dejectedly, she stared at the ground. “I can read my own language, thank you.”

But Jennifer’s mother ignored her, as usual. “I think that self-paced class will do fine. We can arrange her schedule around that. Once she gets the hang of writing and reading, she can advance.”

“Next term. Not this one,” Miss Silver reminded with a sigh. “We’ll give her the assessment test at the end of the year to see if she will advance with her grade.”

Zormna dropped her head against the desk. She knew it. Pigeon-holed simply