Keeping his head tipped around the corner, Martinez answered, “Ram and I have a reputation. If we’re seen loitering, it’ll raise suspicion. But we have a legitimate excuse to be here,” he added, distractedly waving his waterskin at me. “This is a prime location to watch his office.”
A few minutes passed as I hid in the niche while Ramirez and Martinez kept watch. The longer I stood there in the muck, the less sure I felt. As if sensing my weakening resolve, Ramirez said, “Come on. You can’t be late to dinner or Winslow will start asking questions.”
I followed him away, more than ready to leave. But when I noticed it was just the two of us slogging off, I asked, “What about Martinez?”
“We’ll take turns keeping watch. By midday tomorrow we’ll know when to expect Bardzecki and you can steal his birdbane.”
“Lovely.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were being sarcastic,” Ramirez replied.
“I was.”
“Huh. You seem too sober to have a sense of humor.”
I was tempted to tell him that, when compared with Martinez, he always seemed like the tactful one. But I wasn’t sure he’d get the irony, so I said nothing.
I wasn’t late for dinner. Winslow was already standing over our format’s long table when I arrived though, so my entrance didn’t go unnoticed. He skewered me with his eyes, and when his gaze shifted to Ramirez I thought I noted an assessing glint in their depths.
“You must be feeling better,” he said as we drew near.
I couldn’t tell if this was a question, an accusation, or a sarcastic remark, so I stayed quiet. Much to my relief, Winslow didn’t press.
After dinner I waited for Winslow to hand out any letters that might have arrived. I was disappointed when yet another day passed and still I hadn’t heard from my family. I retired to my shed, turning down Roth’s offer to exercise. He often asked me join him on the southeastern fields during free time, as if I had a burning desire to lift weights and only required an invitation to do so. Usually I studied, but I was too nervous to focus just then. I was apprehensive about the plan Martinez and Ramirez had hatched, but if all went well, then tomorrow I’d be on my way home.
Earlier, while escorting me to my shed after the Kodiak debacle, they’d offered to help, admitting that it would be mutually beneficial. I wanted to go home and the format wanted me gone. All I had to do was commit an infraction, one so great that I was no longer welcome at camp. That was when they suggested Bardzecki’s birdbane. It was no secret that he kept a large stash, or that he was intensely attached to the substance. Once (Martinez had relished regaling me with the tale) a soldier had knocked the envelope of birdbane off Bardzecki’s desk while passing by. It had been an accident, but the soldier had suffered regardless. Martinez and Ramirez were convinced that if I got caught filching his supply, I’d be on a Scarlet home in no time.
I could think of a few things worse than stealing Bardzecki’s birdbane—destroying convene property for one, maybe defacing a building. I offered up these suggestions, but Martinez had seemed stubbornly set on the birdbane idea. I acquiesced, admitting that when it came to plotting trouble, I was out of my depth.
So the plan went forward. The rest of the evening and all the next day either Martinez or Ramirez was noticeably absent. When Winslow questioned them, they were never short on excuses. The only downside to their surveillance was the use of my mother’s mirror. They’d invited themselves into my shed after escorting me back, and that was where they’d conspired together. I’d stayed quiet while they’d paced around, seeming keen to touch everything. Ramirez had found the mirror first, and before I could take it away Martinez had noticed. They had been as covetous as Lizzie, smudging the surface as they stroked it with their dusty fingers.
I’m not sure how it happened, but Martinez decided that the mirror was essential to the plan. When I argued, he seemed to cobble together a convoluted reason for why it was necessary. His theory was that if he secured it to the door frame of the building where Instructor Bardzecki’s office was located, then each time the door open and closed there would be a blip of darkness in the surface’s reflection; this was, of course, assuming the mirror faced the sun at all. I pointed out the numerous holes in his logic, to which he only got loud and belligerent, saying, “It doesn’t matter. If all goes well then tomorrow you’ll be taking it home with you anyway.” I was fairly certain that the only reason he was so set on including it in the plan was because he wanted to fondle it longer, but I’d reluctantly agreed anyway, hoping he was right. Hoping I’d be going home.
* * *
I was a nervous wreck the whole next day. During breakfast, Fitallion, always perceptive, leaned down to inquire quietly if I was feeling unwell. Unfortunately Edwards overheard and began bleating that I must not have recovered from my accident the day before, insisting that I be sent back to my shed. Leaving wasn’t an option. I had to be near Martinez and Ramirez, waiting for their signal to slip off. I was relieved when it came. Martinez sidled up next to me, grabbing my arm and hustling me past the convene’s main entrance where soldiers were gathering for lunch. Ramirez was already waiting in the spigot niche. The ground was bone-dry, the reddust having sucked up every drop of moisture from the day before. I stood there, unsure of what came next.
Martinez, ever impatient, said, “Well go on then, get the birdbane.”
Stalling, I asked, “When is he due back?”
Martinez and Ramirez exchanged a look, eyes hard and knowing. It made me nervous, but Martinez’s reply absorbed my whole attention. He said, “Soon, better hurry. Remember it’s in the top left drawer of his desk. It may be locked, but you can break through if you must.”
“The more damage the better,” added Ramirez. “If you want to get sent home.”
“Yeah,” agreed Martinez. “Just don’t stop until you get the birdbane.”
“You mean until I get caught.”
They exchanged another quick glance. “Listen,” Martinez said, “we did our best to learn his schedule, but if he doesn’t come, then just get the birdbane and we’ll use it some other way to get you sent home.”
I was about to step out of the niche when Ramirez added, “We can’t be seen hanging around. We’ll meet you at your shed.”
I nodded then left, walking toward the door that had been the center of our attention those last few days. From their surveillance, I knew Bardzecki’s office was to the left, second to last door on the right. I followed their directions, afraid I was going to pass another instructor and get busted before I even did something truly damning, which only made me rush along like I didn’t belong, running down the halls until I burst through the bronze-plated door marked ‘Bardzecki.’ I recognized the room. It was where the commander had abandoned me, the place I had first met Winslow and Instructor Bardzecki.
I turned to the desk, luckily he wasn’t behind it, so everything was going as planned. Until I pulled on the drawer and it didn’t open. Locked. I grappled with it for a while before jamming his letter opener in the keyhole. That did nothing, but when I stabbed at the actual locking mechanism through the small gap above the drawer it eventually gave way and I was able to force it open. I didn’t even notice what other items the drawer contained. I simply grabbed the waxy envelope in one hand, curling my fingers until it was wadded in my first, and then looked around expectantly. I had been rushing to get it, and now that I had it, I wasn’t quite sure what to do.
Remembering Ramirez’s advice, I turned over the drawer and let Bardzecki’s things fall to the ground, and then I stepped on them. You might think it was an act of revenge after what had transpired the day before, but truthfully, I took no pleasure in it... or when I emptied all of his other drawers, scattering papers everywhere. And then I paced around, waiting and fearing the moment I would get caught. But it never came. I could tell when lunch ended because a few instruct
ors stopped by their offices on the way to class. I waited until the halls emptied, and when it was clear Bardzecki was not going to come, I marched out of his office, down the hall, and into the dust.
* * *
“Do you have it?” was the first thing Martinez asked when I stepped into my shed. Ramirez was leaning against my bunk bed, but Martinez paced, back and forth, back and forth, stepping on mattresses and over bed frames.
For the first time it struck me as odd that they had met me here. If I was getting sent home, then surely the format would find out first. So why weren’t they waiting for news with the rest of our mates? And why was Martinez so agitated? Cautiously I said, “He never showed. I waited for nearly and hour.”
“But did you get the birdbane?”
Frustrated with his fixation, I snapped, “Yes, yes. Here, take it.”
“You squished the envelope,” Martinez complained as he moved closer to the window to inspect its contents.
“I don’t care. I shouldn’t have bothered carrying it the whole way back here. I wasn’t thinking, I completely forgot to get my mirror. I’ll have to go back for it.” I was talking to myself, Martinez and Ramirez ignoring me, their attention riveted to the delicate envelope. I became increasingly uncomfortable watching the two of them moon over it, uncaring that the plan had failed. Uncaring that my mirror was not yet returned to my possession.
I was beginning to feel as though I had made a big mistake when there was a rap at the door. The flimsy wood shuttered once, twice, and then the whole thing swung open. Winslow stood on the step, eyes roaming over each of us in turn. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was intimidating just then, backlit by the sun, a dark, unreadable figure.
“Frost, come with me,” he said. Sparing a glance at Martinez and Ramirez, he added, “Go to class. I’ll deal with you later.” The envelope was gone, slipped away and hidden just as smoothly as their exit.
“Where are we going,” I asked, though I had a good idea.
“Bardzecki,” was his one word reply.
Chapter 14
I knew from the first that Winslow didn’t like me, his careful indifference gave him away. While the rest of the format could warm him up, turn him somewhat friendly, he was always cool towards me. Which was why his anger was so shocking. He took jolting steps, and with every one his apathy drained away only to be replaced by ire.
I followed in his wake, jogging to keep up as I watched the muscles in his jaw twitch with tension. Our trek north through camp was unhindered by soldiers. I didn’t see a single one. Classes were in session, and they were all tucked away inside.
As for myself, I was already half-gone. The reunion with my family played through my mind, but it was oddly hard to imagine, either because I’d never been gone long enough for an eventful return or because I wasn’t big on emotional displays. Either way, I skipped the homecoming and focused on how nice it would be to sleep in my own bed once again, even if I had to share it with Lizzie.
I was so distracted with my thoughts that when Winslow suddenly spun to face me I didn’t have time to stop, plowing into his chest and bouncing right off. Both of his hands shot out, grabbing my arms, but not to steady me, rather in a restraining sort of way. Holding me in place, he asked, “What did you do?”
“Bardzecki didn’t tell you?”
He shook me once, hard. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t put you in the hole,” he replied, not answering my question.
“Yes, I will be lucky, because that will mean I’m going home.”
He shoved me away, a sharp move that sent me stumbling back. “I didn’t think anyone could be that stupid,” he said, looking at me like I was Little Red’s greatest fool before stalking off.
My mind was my one saving grace and if there was one thing I was not, it was stupid. His words jarred me to anger, and without a thought, I reached forward and grabbed the back of his vest, yanking as I said, “I know what I’m doing.”
He grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I released the fabric. “You only know what Martinez and Ramirez told you, and trust me, whatever it was, you will pay for it.” He was standing so close, his hand to my arm, giving me his full attention as he glared down into my eyes, continuing to express the warning I refused to hear. But then I felt his hand relax, like a cuff his fingers slid down my arm, over my wrist and past my fingers. I watched the emotions slip away as he closed himself up, a format first once more.
I waited until he was a few steps ahead before I followed him, irrationally wishing that the argument had gone on a bit longer. I wasn’t sure what to make of them, but the facts were these: I had found that encounter strangely satisfying, and my feelings concerning Winslow were vastly different than they had been just minutes before.
* * *
Bardzecki was livid. He stood amidst the mess I had made, the muscles playing beneath his skin, flexing and shifting in defiance of his still pose. “Sit,” he commanded brusquely without looking at me.
He knew I was to blame. I felt somewhat relieved, but mostly nervous. I meant to sit, but I couldn’t seem to bestir myself from the threshold.
Bardzecki brought one meaty fist down on his desk, the dull thud ringing out as he roared, “Sit!” The few slips of paper I’d left scattered across the desk fluttered at his outburst, raining down to the floor as I ran to the chair. “Are you going to deny that you are responsible for this?” he asked, waving a quick hand to gesture at the mess surrounding us.
“No,” I replied.
He moved out from behind his desk, stalking around me like a circling bull before it charged. “Pathetic,” he pronounced, his eyes still fixed on me, but his words meant for Winslow. “She still doesn’t know how to address her instructors.”
I cringed because it was true, I had slipped.
“You are too insipid to plan this on your own, whose idea was it?” Bardzecki questioned as he continued to circle behind me.
“It was my idea, Instructor Bardzecki.”
Winslow, standing silently off to the side, shifted, uneasy over what must have been an obvious lie. I lied so rarely that I was unable to gauge my believability. This whole situation had skittered out of my control. I had expected it to be bad, and I knew I would get in trouble, I just hadn’t prepared for it to feel so… personal.
“You expect me to believe that you, and you alone, skipped class to sneak into my office, destroy my property, and steal my birdbane?” He didn’t bother waiting for another lie. “Why?”
I hadn’t prepared an excuse, hadn’t thought it would matter. Keeping my eyes trained on the floor while I cast around for the likeliest reason, I said, “I was angry that you embarrassed me in class, so that’s why I did it. Instructor Bardzecki,” I hastened to add.
“I didn’t embarrass you, you embarrassed yourself, something you manage on a daily basis,” he said ruthlessly, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “This is the story that you expect me to believe? That you were embarrassed?”
I realized then that Bardzecki was vastly more intelligent than I’d credited him for. By repeating my words back to me he’d managed to point out the stupidity of them, leaving me hunched in my chair, ashamed. It took all of my willpower not to blurt out that Martinez and Ramirez made me do it.
“Where is my birdbane?”
I had to lie because I couldn’t give it back without implicating Martinez and Ramirez. “I— I dumped it out. Into the sand.” I spared a glance up at him. His lip was tight on one side, his dislike for me evident. A soldier doesn’t ask questions, but I just couldn’t help myself. I had to know. “Will I be sent home?”
He smiled back at me, almost a snarl, and I knew I had given too much away. “You are everything that a soldier isn’t—you speak when you shouldn’t, respect nothing, and are weak. But that doesn’t matter because only the commander has the authority to release you from your basic training. Even if I could, I woul
dn’t, because that’s what you want, and I intend for you to suffer. And since you maintain that you acted alone, then the punishment will be yours and yours alone.”
Not sent home? It kept ringing in my ears.
Bardzecki continued, “You will spend your free time in the hole for an entire week.”
The hole. Winslow had mentioned it with dread, but I still had no clue what it meant.
“In addition, you will complete a list of chores to keep yourself busy. I’ve suggested a few to Winslow, the first of which is to clean my office.”
I can hardly provide the details of what followed—I was in a trance. It was surreal, an unreal nightmare, where everything had gone wrong. I shuffled around the floor, collecting papers and restoring them to some sort of order. I was forced to notice things I didn’t want to. I had knocked over an inkwell and the floor would be forever stained. The drawer I had pried open would never again shut properly. I had destroyed a framed picture with my boot heel, breaking glass and leaving shards along the floor. It wasn’t until I was organizing his desk that I was rocked back into reality, the sight of my mirror making everything sharp again. I gasped, reaching for it.
Instructor Bardzecki’s hand came down, caging it from me.
I reacted on impulse. “That’s mine!”
“Yes, just like the birdbane was mine,” he countered.
I blanched. He had a point.
“I suspected it was yours. It isn’t something a typical soldier would have. But I couldn’t fathom why you would leave it behind to incriminate yourself. It makes sense now, you wanted to get caught.”
Yes, I had wanted to get caught, but not for nothing, or worse than nothing—a thorough punishment as reward. And never at the expense of my mirror; I wouldn’t have given it up for anything. “When may I have it back?” I asked, knowing it would not be today.
Bardzecki ignored me, picking it up and carrying it to the door with him. “You are now in charge of her punishment and discipline, First Winslow. I trust you will be as brutal as the situation requires.” Turning to me, he added, “It’s in the blood. We’ll see how well you keep up in class now that you have no spare time to study.” It was the worst possible punishment he could have inflicted, taking my mirror and leaving me no time to study. It didn’t sink in until that very moment how big of a mistake I had actually made.