Free And Both Were Young by Madeleine L'Engle Page A

out for a walk,” Flip answered vaguely.
    “Out for a walk, my aunt Fanny,” Esmée Bodet said. “You’ve probably been mooning down in that chapel again. I think it’s sacrilegious.”
    “Or maybe she was out on a date,” Sally suggested. “I bet she was. That would be just like our Pill, wouldn’t it, kids? Were you out on a date, Pill?”
    “I have to wash my hands before dinner,” Flip said, and as she started up the stairs she thought, Maybe you’d call it a date at that, Sally!
    And she grinned as she turned down the corridor.
    By the next Saturday all of the five other new girls in Flip’s class had done deeds. Two of them had short-sheeted all the seniors’ beds. One had wangled a big box of chocolates into the common room with the help of a cousin who lived in Montreux. Only Flip had done nothing.
    Gloria tried to help her. “Maybe you could put salt in Balmy Almy’s tea. I have it! You could fill all the sugar bowls with salt!”
    Flip shook her head. “Where would I get the salt?”
    “Well, let’s think of something else then,” Gloria said. “You don’t know, Pill! That initiation’s going to be something terrific! Maybe you could trip the Dragon up when she comes into assembly. You’re on the end of the line.”
    Flip shook her head again.
    “Well, whatever you do,” Gloria warned, “don’t do anything like short-sheeting a bed or making a booby trap for anyone in
our
class. They wouldn’t like that.”
    “I won’t,” Flip assured her. “But I can’t think of a deed, Gloria. I’ve tried and tried, but I just can’t seem to think of anything.” If only I could produce Paul and Ariel, she thought. That would bowl them over all right.
    “I thought you were supposed to have such a good imagination,” Gloria said. “I’ve done everything I can to help you, ducky, so there’s nothing else for it. You’ll just have to be initiated.”
    “I expect I’ll have to,” Flip agreed mournfully and with trepidation.
    “I’ll do what I can to keep it from being too awful,” Gloria promised her magnanimously.
    But she was, as Flip had known she would be, one of the most violent of the initiators.
    The entire class met after lunch behind the playing fields. It was almost out of sight of the school there; only the highest turrets could be seen rising out of the trees. Erna, Jackie, and Gloria had Flip in tow.
    “Don’t be scared,” Jackie whispered comfortingly. “It’s only fun.”
    “I’m
not
scared.” Flip was vehement. Even if she knew she was a coward she did not want anyone else to know.
    It was a grey day with little tendrils of fog curled here and there about the trees. The tips of the mountains were obscured in clouds that looked heavy and soft and like snow clouds. Erna said it was too early for snow as far down the mountain as Jaman, though there might possibly be some in Gstaad, a town farther up, where the annual ski meet was held. Behind the playing fields was the most desolate spot around the school. It was rocky ground with little life; the grass was neither long nor short; just ragged and untidy and a dull rust brown in color. The only tree was dead, with one lone branch left sticking out so that it looked like a gibbet. Most of the girls clustered about the tree. Flip heard one of them asking, “What do we do?”
    “Well, we put Pill through the mill first,” Erna said. “Come on, peoples. Line up.” She shoved and pushed at the girls until they got into line, their legs apart, then she gave Flip a not unfriendly shove. “Through the mill.”
    Flip bent down, held her breath, and started. With her long legs she practically had to crawl on her hands and knees as she pushed through the tunnel of legs, and her progress was slow and her bottom smarting from the slaps. She gritted her teeth and pressed on until she passed between Erna’s legs at the head of the line. Erna gave her a resounding smack.
    “Good for Philippa,” Solvei said. “She didn’t