stood up behind her desk. She had silver hair wrapped in a tight bun at the back of her head, the strands pulled so tightly at the sides, that they pulled at the corners of her eyes, which were piercing green, just as Daddy said. She didn't wear any makeup, not even a touch of lipstick. She had a complexion even lighter than mine, with skin so thin, 1 could see the crisscrossing tiny blue veins in her temples.
"This here's my kids, Mrs. Turnbell," Daddy declared.
"I assumed that, Mr. Longchamp. You're late. You know the other children will be arriving shortly."
"Well, we got here as soon as we could, ma'am. I—"
"Never mind. Please be seated," she said to us and indicated the chairs in front of her desk. Daddy stood back, folding his arms across his chest. When I looked back at him, I saw a cold sharpness in his eyes. He was holding back his anger.
"Should I stay?" he asked.
"Of course, Mr. Longchamp. I like the parents to be present when I explain to students the philosophies of the Emerson Peabody School, so everyone understands. I was hoping your mother would be able to come as well," she said to us.
Jimmy glared back at her. I could feel the tension in his body.
"Our momma's not feeling that well yet, ma'am," I said. "And we have a baby sister she has to mind."
"Yes. Be that as it may," Mrs. Turnbell said and sat down herself. "I trust you will take back to her everything I tell you anyway. Now, then," she said, looking at some papers before her on her desk. Everything on it was neatly arranged. "Your name is Dawn?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dawn," she repeated and shook her head and looked up at Daddy. "That's the child's full Christian name?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very well, and you are James?"
"Jimmy," Jimmy corrected.
"We don't use nicknames here, James." She clasped her hands and leaned toward us, fixing her gaze on Jimmy. "Those sort of things might have been tolerated at the other institutions you attended, public institutions," she said, making the word public sound like a curse word, "but this is a special school. Our students come from the finest families in the South, sons and daughters of people with heritage and position. Names are respected; names are important, as important as anything else.
"I'll come right to the point. I know you children haven't had the same upbringing and advantages as the rest of my students have had, and I imagine it will take you two a little longer to fit in. However, I expect that very shortly you two will adjust and conduct yourselves like Emerson Peabody students are supposed to conduct themselves.
"You will address all your teachers as either sir or ma'am. You will come to school dressed neatly and be clean. Never challenge a command. I have a copy of our rules here, and I expect both of you to read and commit them all to memory."
She turned toward Jimmy.
"We don't tolerate bad language, fighting, or disrespect in any form or manner. We expect students to treat each other with respect, too. We frown on tardiness and loitering, and we will not stand for any sort of vandalism when it comes to our beautiful building.
"Very soon you will see how special Emerson Peabody is, and you will realize how lucky you are to be here. Which brings me to my final point: In a real sense, you two are guests. The rest of the student body pays a handsome fee to be able to attend Emerson Peabody. The board of trustees has made it possible for you two to attend because of your father. Therefore, you have as added responsibility to behave and be a credit to our school.
"Am I understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said quickly. Jimmy glared at her with defiance. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't say anything nasty.
"James?"
"I understand," he said in a somber tone.
"Very well," she said and sat back. "Mr. Longchamp, you may resume your duties. You two will go out to Miss Jackson, who will provide you with your class schedules and assign a locker to each of you." She stood up abruptly, and Jimmy and I
"This here's my kids, Mrs. Turnbell," Daddy declared.
"I assumed that, Mr. Longchamp. You're late. You know the other children will be arriving shortly."
"Well, we got here as soon as we could, ma'am. I—"
"Never mind. Please be seated," she said to us and indicated the chairs in front of her desk. Daddy stood back, folding his arms across his chest. When I looked back at him, I saw a cold sharpness in his eyes. He was holding back his anger.
"Should I stay?" he asked.
"Of course, Mr. Longchamp. I like the parents to be present when I explain to students the philosophies of the Emerson Peabody School, so everyone understands. I was hoping your mother would be able to come as well," she said to us.
Jimmy glared back at her. I could feel the tension in his body.
"Our momma's not feeling that well yet, ma'am," I said. "And we have a baby sister she has to mind."
"Yes. Be that as it may," Mrs. Turnbell said and sat down herself. "I trust you will take back to her everything I tell you anyway. Now, then," she said, looking at some papers before her on her desk. Everything on it was neatly arranged. "Your name is Dawn?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dawn," she repeated and shook her head and looked up at Daddy. "That's the child's full Christian name?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very well, and you are James?"
"Jimmy," Jimmy corrected.
"We don't use nicknames here, James." She clasped her hands and leaned toward us, fixing her gaze on Jimmy. "Those sort of things might have been tolerated at the other institutions you attended, public institutions," she said, making the word public sound like a curse word, "but this is a special school. Our students come from the finest families in the South, sons and daughters of people with heritage and position. Names are respected; names are important, as important as anything else.
"I'll come right to the point. I know you children haven't had the same upbringing and advantages as the rest of my students have had, and I imagine it will take you two a little longer to fit in. However, I expect that very shortly you two will adjust and conduct yourselves like Emerson Peabody students are supposed to conduct themselves.
"You will address all your teachers as either sir or ma'am. You will come to school dressed neatly and be clean. Never challenge a command. I have a copy of our rules here, and I expect both of you to read and commit them all to memory."
She turned toward Jimmy.
"We don't tolerate bad language, fighting, or disrespect in any form or manner. We expect students to treat each other with respect, too. We frown on tardiness and loitering, and we will not stand for any sort of vandalism when it comes to our beautiful building.
"Very soon you will see how special Emerson Peabody is, and you will realize how lucky you are to be here. Which brings me to my final point: In a real sense, you two are guests. The rest of the student body pays a handsome fee to be able to attend Emerson Peabody. The board of trustees has made it possible for you two to attend because of your father. Therefore, you have as added responsibility to behave and be a credit to our school.
"Am I understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said quickly. Jimmy glared at her with defiance. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't say anything nasty.
"James?"
"I understand," he said in a somber tone.
"Very well," she said and sat back. "Mr. Longchamp, you may resume your duties. You two will go out to Miss Jackson, who will provide you with your class schedules and assign a locker to each of you." She stood up abruptly, and Jimmy and I
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