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

call roll. But she did ask them to rise for something called the Pledge of Allegiance. The entire room obeyed, though not without her classmates exchanging bored looks. Everyone got to his or her feet and set their right hands over their hearts. The loudspeaker hummed on, then pitched with feedback. Several in the room plugged their ears. However, most of them repeated after the voice on the loudspeaker—what little they could comprehend anyway. It was an old sound system. Zormna did not understand most of what was said. Something about a flag and America and standing and one nation. The rest was either garbled or mumbled. Everyone in the room soon sat down. However, the voice on the loudspeaker kept going. Everyone strained to hear. Something about school-wide lipsticks and a thing called pom. When the loudspeaker shut off, everyone looked to Mrs. Ryant who automatically said, “Questions?”

A couple of students raised their hands.

“When are they going to get that speaker fixed?” a girl in a blue tee shirt complained.

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Ryant said. “I put in a work order a month ago. Any questions about the announcements? I have them here.”

“What was the date for the Olympics? I couldn’t hear,” that girl in blue said.

Olympics…that was probably that lipstick thing. Zormna had overheard a few people in the other class talking about something like that. That loudspeaker was really broken.

“It will be on a Friday, with a dance,” their teacher said. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” said a boy with glasses. A pin on his chest said he was President of Pennington Chess. A thick book for writing in college essay contests rested in front of him next to an open notebook full of hand-written work. He pointed to Zormna. “Are we going to get an introduction? This is homeroom.”

Everyone turned their attention to the back of the room, staring at her expectantly.

Mrs. Ryant sighed and turned her gaze also. With a nod, the teacher led out a hand. “If you please, tell us about yourself.”

Zormna rose, scooting out from the round table. She had to get it over with. It was what first days were all about.

Her eyes took in the kids in this class. The crowd was starkly different from Mr. Keller’s brooding and rebellions collection of misfits, and definitely different from Mr. Parker’s group of underachievers who were just trying to survive the hour. This group dressed more eclectically. Some in that dark gothic attire, others as straight as the teacher. And the look in their eyes was different, like they wanted to be there.

She decided to be succinct. “My name is Zormna Clendar. I come from Ireland. I moved here just three days ago, and I am currently staying with the McLenna family until I can become an emancipated minor.”

“What’s an emancipated minor?” A girl in a prim red shirt waved an open paperback novel in the air. It had a French Cavalier on the cover.

But someone else in the class replied, a girl whose eyes were magnified by a pair coke-bottle glasses. “That’s a kid who had legal permission to live on their own rather than with a parent or guardian.” She tapped a packet of stapled-together papers on the table with a that-is-that attitude.

“Why would you want to do that?” someone else asked.

“Drew Barrymore did it.” This came from a lanky guy with silvery braces and a rash of pimples on his cheeks and forehead. “So she could work longer hours.”

“Dropping out of school is a bad idea,” immediately sprouted out from the crowd.

Instantly the conversation rose to a combative tone as each student had an opinion.

“You can’t get much of a job with a GED, you know.”

“Alicia Silverstone did the same thing, to get longer hours,” the guys in braces said.

“But she isn’t an actress.” The girl in red pointed her book at Zormna.

“She’s pretty enough to be an actress—”

After that, the conversation entirely collapsed into chaos. Every kid in the room debated her future as if Zormna were not standing there hearing it. And little of it was complimentary.

Looking for some intervention, Zormna turned her dry gaze towards Mrs. Ryant. But the woman hardly did anything. In fact, the woman attempted to steer the debate rather than stop it. Nodding, casual, the teacher listened with what Zormna assumed what a pretense of open-mindedness and objectiveness. But it was insane. Zormna could not tell if this was better or worse than having a tyrannical math teacher. If the authority figure did not do anything, then she would have to.

“Enough!” Zormna cut off the conversation with her most resonant voice.

Everyone went immediately silent.

She sternly set her hands behind her back. “For the record, I am not going to drop out of school and take this GED you speak of. I attended a private military academy before I came here, and I value a good education.” She looked to one who near the end had suggested she would end up working for a pimp. “And I will not be offering my services on any street corner.”

“Good ears…” one of them murmured. The boys around him looked a little dismayed.

“Now, is that all?” Zormna asked, turning to Mrs. Ryant.

The teacher smiled apologetically, nodding with a blush.

“Why did you come here in the first place?” a blonde girl asked. She was trying to sound proper rather than rude, but her snide tone was intact.

Zormna met her gaze solidly. “My commanding officer felt it was best that I spend time with my family.”

They all drew in breaths

“You are related to the McLennas?” someone asked.

“Which McLennas?” the guy with braces asked.

“There’s only one family, you idiot. Todd and Jennifer. Those guys,” said the girl in red. She looked likely to throw her book at him next.

“No. We are not related.” Zormna rolled her eyes, sighing. “But they were kind enough to take me in. I was to stay with my great aunt, who lived here.”

“Lived? As in past tense?” that chess president asked. “You mean she moved away and didn’t tell you about it?”

Zormna shook her head. “No. She died and no one told me about it.”

The room dropped to a hush now.

Mrs. Ryant’s face went white. Immediately she cleared her throat and announced, “Time to turn in your homework. As for the rest of you, you have your assignments. You may begin them.”

She then nodded to Zormna and a few other individuals. “And for those who don’t have theirs yet, I’ll be with you shortly.”

Zormna sat down.

Everyone still stared, but this time with peeks and whispers behind hands and books. Maybe she would not have a future walking the streets, someone murmured, but she still had that tragic beauty thing about her.

 Ugh, tragic beauty? Zormna clenched her head. People. They were so annoying.

Mrs. Ryant walked around the room attending to the individual needs while Zormna waited for instruction. The teacher acted more like a mother than a teacher, Zormna decided. Mrs. Ryant smiled a lot, asked questions that made her students think, and she provided ample time for them to think. She didn’t seem to have any class rules except for the students to do their work honestly. And despite letting Zormna end up as the subject of unwarranted speculation, Mrs. Ryant did have that friendly knack that Zormna knew she lacked. The woman was personable. And most importantly, fair. When she finally reached Zormna, she gestured for them to go to the back of the room for more privacy.

“I think the best way for us to start is with a blanket assessment. If you would take a booth seat, I will bring out a test for you to—”

“Oh,” Zormna interrupted her, cringing. “But I told you, I cannot even read a bit of English.”

Mrs. Ryant merely smiled, patting her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I realize we are starting from scratch. But you did say you recognized some of the letters. Right?”

Zormna weakly nodded.

“Then that is where we will start.”

Zormna slid into one of the isolation booths. There was a boy nearby listening to something on a computer program, reading out loud in a whisper to himself. His speech was halting, slow, and clearly struggling. Where he sat in the booth, no one could hear and make fun. Zormna stared without meaning to. He was how she would be, soon enough.

“Here you go.” Mrs. Ryant set down a stapled together packet and a pencil. “Fill in what you can and take your time.”

The test looked almost identical to the one Miss Silver had given her the day before. Panic enveloped Zormna as she stared at it. “But I cannot—”

“Try,” Mrs. Ryant said, patting her hand. Then she shrugged kindly. “Make a guess. Guess on everything if you have to. But please attempt to answer the questions.”

“But if I cannot even read the instructions—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Ryant said. “This test is for my eyes only. It is not going on any record. It will not affect your grade in this class. It is just so I can see where to start helping you. This is not a pass or fail thing. The only failure is not trying at all.”

Zormna swallowed down her unease, nodding. The teacher was right, of course. She knew it. It was just so embarrassing.

The teacher left her to her test. The murmur of the boy reading aloud in the booth next to hers continued. The room itself had a low quiet hum, similar to that of a well-run engine

Staring at the test paper once again, Zormna took up the pencil, heaved a breath, and began with question one.

 

Chapter Seven: Friends, Foes, and Food

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “Everybody is ignorant, only on different subjects.” –Will Rogers

 

 

 

Todd rushed up to the fourth floor, trying hard to contain his excitement. The truth was; he had been suffering all day waiting for when they would have PE together. Well…they wouldn’t exactly be together. They were in separate classes. But they were in the same hour and would probably share the same field.

He skidded into the classroom where Zormna stood a little red-eyed before Mrs. Ryant’s desk, accepting a phonics workbook. Her head hung like she was not able to meet anyone’s eye.

“Hi, Todd.” Becky Hales smiled at him and waved as she walked past through the doorway.

Todd nodded to her, his eyes only for Zormna.

Becky followed his gaze. She rolled her eyes then walked off.

‘Sparky’ Jones slapped him on the shoulder. “You lucky dog.”

The other boys nodded, eyes wide in agreement.

Todd went the rest of the way into the room. Zormna peeked up at him then ducked her head a little more, cringing.

“…And they can help you with it,” Mrs. Ryant said, nodding to Todd also.

“Yes, sir,” Zormna said.

“It is ma’am for women,” the teacher said with a sympathetic smile.

Zormna nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” And she turned to go, still avoiding Todd’s gaze.

“More detention?” he asked.

Zormna shook her head mutely.

They walked along in silence—not so much because he wanted it, but because Zormna clearly did. So, with no conversation, they went together all the way down and out the main building, then across the redtop to the gym.

Todd pointed to the girl’s locker room entrance. “You go in there. Did my mom give you any clothes for PE?”

Zormna nodded listlessly. “And a lock.”

“Good.” Todd looked towards