The Caged Student

Entering the empty house, I check the answering machine immediately. There's nothing but two unsolicited requests by home sellers. I stand looking aimlessly around for something to do. Just as I reach for the TV remote, the phone goes off. I snatch the receiver up. "Hello?"

"Mr. Montgomery. I see you've made it home."

It's Mr. Cox. "I just arrived, actually. Your call couldn't be better timed."

"Well. We do try. I hope your day has been as productive as ours."

This is the Mr. Cox I met. Not all that smarmyness I heard at lunch. Businesslike and professional. "That sounds like good news, Mr. Cox."

"Oh yes. Her academic lessons are proceeding apace. Plenty of verbal correction. A few swats to get her attention. Nothing too serious. There was even a little activity to make sure she wasn't slacking off on her physical education. Very soon, I'll begin a period of questioning."

I nod walking over to the refrigerator. "Some of the questions you asked me at lunch?"

There is a noticeable pause on the other end. "Uhh... Yes..."

"Mr. Cox?"

"Well, what I really wanted to talk about is setting up a time tomorrow for the three of us to have a discussion."

"Of course. What about specifically?"

"To be frank; about your future together."

That's a worry squarely on my mind. "And you have a plan for us? I can't have her act like she has the last few days anymore."

"That is a surety, Mr. Montgomery. As Miss Yeager modifies her behavior with my guidance, I will bring up the topic of you when it's appropriate. The groundwork will be laid before you arrive."

"I guess that's sounds okay then. What time do I arrive?"

"Is eight fine?"

"Why so late?"

"Sally's docket is very full, if you get my meaning."

"I bet. Well, I hope to see; whatever it is that you do."

"Until then, Mr. Montgomery."

The phone clicks and I feel that low level dread again. Would Sally want to stay here after this? Would she just yell at me? This Mr. Cox better be some kind of miracle worker to win over someone like her.

Grabbing a beer, I turn on the TV and sit back. I have to make some calls tomorrow. Those boys' parents for one since it was my place after all. Then Susan's dad. What is Mr. Stuart going through now? Then I remember what the Headmaster said. He's probably...

Unbidden, an image skitters through my head. It's Susan from two days ago at my pool. The young lady is covering her toplessness as best she can with just a brief bikini bottom on. The auburn-haired woman looks up at me with those green eyes. They convey to me how sorry she is. Sally's friend turns away in an attempt to maintain a small bit of her modesty and reaches back. Slowly, she lowers her clingy, damp suit, revealing even more of her pale body. She bends over, leaving no doubt of her desire to be punished by me. I approach... Shit!

I stand up. The house is too empty for just me and my thoughts. I have to get out. Do anything. I grab my keys. There's a bar open somewhere, right?

* * *

My economics textbook isn't much in the way of entertainment for me. The looks I'm getting from Miss Holeman are far more interesting. Every few minutes, I raise my hand to ask a question, but I find she doesn't really know much about the subject. Of course, I have to use that.

"Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss Yeager?"

"This paragraph. What's the difference between Keynesian and New-Keynesian theory?"

"That's for Mr. Cox to cover. Any questions will have to wait."

I can tell she's getting aggravated. "But ma'am, if I don't know what this means, then I can't really continue."

"You'll just have to do so, Yeager."

"Shouldn't Mr. Cox be here to teach me, ma'am? I mean, if you can't answer my questions."

Another raw nerve hit. This break of Mr. Cox's has now passed over an hour, and I'm almost sure Miss Holeman is beginning to think the same as me. She's no teacher and seems not to have any authority to really go after me. At least not without some overt reason. As every minute passes, I feel like I'm wearing away at her superiority. Maybe she'll be the one to do something stupid. Finally, I hear Mr. Cox's footsteps and I prepare myself. I'm on my guard for anything else weird from him. I turn to see the old man enter the room with a serious expression on his face.

"Thank you, Miss Holeman. If you could prepare dinner, I'll take over for the rest of the evening."

The tall woman actually looks relieved. "Yes, sir. Miss Yeager has a few questions for you."

"Good. Good. She's been reading the material, at least. How long until it's ready?"

"Not long, sir. Thirty minutes?"

"That will do. Just enough time to go over this lesson."

The door closes behind me. I sit at my desk, getting worried. What did he want to do? More weird tests? I'm all defensive, trying to be ready for anything.

"Miss Yeager. You had a question?"

My mouth opens and then closes. I thought he would start up on me again. The man who had me babbling just by staring at me. Now he's just acting like the teacher I knew in school. "Ummm..."

"Out with it, girl!"

"Uhhh; yes." Just ask anything. "Supply and demand. The book discusses monetary policy, but I don't understand the chart."

Mr. Cox comes closer, looking down at the page. "The two parallel lines indicate the 'stickiness' of demand for certain goods. If an external pressure is exerted on the market, such as increased liquidity, demand doesn't drop off as quickly, causing an accelerated rise in the price of these goods. The usual outcome is a much steeper inflationary cycle."

I have no idea what he just said to me. "Sir?"

"Sorry, Yeager." He actually smiles a bit. "Inflation really hasn't been an issue since you were what? Nine? For those of us who started getting jobs in the late sixties, it's not so theoretical."

So he wants to talk? How could he after all the shit I said to him? I switch to my good student mode. "Yes, sir. I understand inflation generally." Not really. "It said that the type of government could have some kind of impact on prices?"

"Yes, Miss Yeager! In negotiation and price fixing." With that, he marches over to the board and launches into a ten-minute discussion on command economies, contracts, and price controls. Nonplussed, I just watch him go on excitedly about various economic theories. What the hell? As long as he doesn't go after me like before. Just when I start to relax, that weird feeling comes back and Mr. Cox's little lecture comes to a halt. Like literally. He's staring at the blackboard. Is he okay? Then he turns to me, and I can tell something's off.

"Just collecting my thoughts, Yeager. So, let us discuss a few things that are interrelated to this subject. Of the various economic systems introduced in Chapter One, which one do you favor?"

"Ummm..." Okay. So at least this was still on subject. I think a moment. "Well, sir, I believe I prefer a free market economy."

Cox nods. "Completely unregulated? Everyone for themselves? Fittest get the spoils?"

I don't mind getting down and dirty in negotiations. Especially since I usually got what I wanted. "Yes, sir."

"But there have to be some rules. Laws about how one comes to a deal certainly."

"I guess so. Like private property and stuff."

Mr. Cox face twists into a smile. "Just as one would with a contract, Yeager?"

I finally figure out where this is going. "Like our contract, sir?" I ask flippantly.

"Yes, Miss Yeager. But there are many types of contracts out there. They can be legal and binding. They can also deal with our social lives. How we trust each other."

"A contract; with how we act?"

"Yes, Miss Yeager. There are webs of connections between us. They develop, strengthen; and sometimes break. You have been manipulating a lot of those lately."

I purse my lips. "Does this have anything to do with economics, sir?"

"In a way. Let's take what you have been doing..." Just then, a strange sound starts up outside the room. It's mechanical. Like a motor running. Mr. Cox places the chalk down. "Dinner must be arriving. Go put your books away."

I'm actually relieved. His questions were starting to get very strange. With the sun going down, it was well past when I usually ate dinner anyway. Grabbing my stuff, he calls out to me just as I reach the door. I slowly turn back to the old man behind his desk. "Sir?"

"The blouse and dress slacks on my list. You did bring them?"

"Uhhh, yes, sir."

He smiles. "Change into those for this evening's meal. Let us have a lesson in fine dining."

Fine dining? Up here? You've got to be kidding me! Well, at least I can get out of this ill-fitting dress. "Yes, sir."

Walking out, I find there's nobody in the hall. So where was that noise coming from? Going into my room, I place the books in the backpack and leave the door cracked. As I begin to quickly unbutton my dress, I hear the door open downstairs and the steady clicking of heels coming up. I go back to the door and wait. Miss Holeman comes into view and stops in front of a bare section of the hallway. She pushes a part of the baseboard with her shoe and the wall begins to slide up. Holy shit! Is that an elevator? Could I use that to get out of here?

Watching a bit more, I see the tall woman pull out a cloth-covered cart and begin pushing it towards the classroom. Not wanting to be seen, I carefully pull the door closed. What did they call them? A dummy elevator? Should I get out of here? Could I say I've been beaten constantly against my will? Looking around at my backside, I realize that wouldn't fly. There's not a mark on me. Holeman and Cox have been very good at that. All I can do is tuck that bit of information away and continue to dress.

I pull down the beige slacks I brought from the hanger and begin to slide them on. They're fashioned so that they would be tight at the top and have a bit of flare just below the knees. I had bought them knowing that they accentuated my hips and ass, which the boys certainly appreciated at certain parties. I turn in the mirror and grimace. Maybe it's a bit too form-fitting for around here.

The button-down blouse is a long-sleeve silky off-white affair. This definitely fits me better around the chest. Unfortunately, my bra is regulation white, and I can definitely see it a bit through the material. Sighing, I realize there is nothing I can do about that now. Should I tuck it in? Nah. It partially hides my backside, which is fine by me. All finished, I go back out into the hall and enter the classroom.

And I stop. On Mr. Cox's desk are a burgundy tablecloth and a set of dinnerware for two. To top it all off, Miss Holeman is placing a small candelabra in the center. I slowly turn my head to Mr. Cox who's waving a hand to the far chair.

"Please join me, Miss Yeager. We have much to discuss."

I keep staring, and my guard instantly goes up. Every instinct I have is telling me something's wrong here. "About what, sir?"

"A few questions about your past; and maybe a few more about what we were talking about earlier. I find that mealtime is most conducive to having a conversation, is it not?"

He's still talking strangely, but what am I to do? Refuse to eat? The scent entices me, and my tummy gives a noticeable growl. Slowly, I go to the other end of the desk as far away as possible from the old man.

As soon as I sit, Miss Holeman lights the three candles and begins to set out two bowls. This is too surreal. Seeing the well-dressed woman acting so submissive: it's weirding me out. My bowl is filled with tomato soup first. After that, she picks up a mean-looking serrated knife and carves several slices of Italian bread for us. When the tall woman offers to pour my tea, I just stare at her.

"Please. Eat your meal," she says, pouring the glass efficiently. The woman then backs a few paces away.

Shrugging, I take my first sip of the soup. Okay. I might just be hungry, but this stuff is really good! Grabbing a slice of bread, I dunk it into the bowl.

"We have to work on those manners," Mr. Cox says chidingly. "Wouldn't you agree, Miss Holeman?"

The tall woman looks at me in mild disgust. "That and her behavior, sir."

I ignore her. "What's up with all this anyway; sir?"

"Just a little touch of class to enhance the meal, Miss Yeager. I find that a bit of tastefulness can improve a meal greatly."

There's a soft clank, and I look over to see that Miss Holeman has raised the lid off of something. Then the aroma hits me, and my interest is more than just a little piqued. "What's that?"

"Prime rib, Yeager," the tall lady answers, beginning to cut into it.

I begin to see the faint pink center with juices flowing out of it and my mouth salivates. Unable to help myself, I reach for the plate. "Ouch!" The serving fork Miss Holeman wields leaves a sharp pain on the top of my hand.

Mr. Cox laughs. "We DO have a lot of work to do."

"I'm not here to learn table manners, sir," I retort.

"Quite right. However, politeness and some sophistication can go a long way to resolve a conflict, Miss Yeager."

I reach for my glass and find the tea to be warm and slightly sweet. "I just find saying what you want is faster, sir."

"Is that what Miss Stuart did to you and your cohorts a few days ago? Tell all of you what she wanted, and then you went along?"

"Pretty much. She kept pushing to come over to my place."

"One of the best students at Warrington decided to lead your little group to Mr. Montgomery's on her own?"

"Well, yeah. Sir." A memory of the 'discussion' we had. Susan did ask to come over a lot during the summer. Then she got all weird. Especially in front of Collin. So when I offered my place to skip she grudgingly gave in. After getting caught half naked, I bet she won't be doing anything like that again any time soon!

Miss Holeman reaches over to place the plates in front of us and Mr. Cox looks appreciatively at his well-dressed assistant. "Beth is skilled at most anything she puts her mind to. She is quite an asset."

"Thank you, sir." The tall lady replies and backs away again.

Here's an opportunity. "If you say so, sir. She couldn't answer the questions I had earlier though." That makes the blonde's hands flex.

"Miss Yeager. Why do you always have to be so combative? We are here to have a pleasant meal."

"And to ask questions."

The old man sighs. "It is very difficult to enjoy the food this way. Come along. Have a bite and say what comes to mind."

Whatever. I grab a fork and stab a slice of meat. Putting it in my mouth, I start chewing. Actually, I kinda let it fall apart in my mouth. After several years with Collin, we really didn't have gourmet food in the house. This is actually something far better than what I've eaten in a long time! "It's delicious," I say grudgingly.

"There. You see? It takes quite a bit of skill to prepare a meal like this. That skill is one way to garner appreciation and respect."

"If you think I'm going to learn how to cook..."

"I was just giving an example, Miss Yeager. What are your assets then?"

"Sir?"

"How do you gain respect? Certainly not your table manners."

I roll my eyes. "I do just fine."

"I would agree until recently. Take the notes, for example."

"My notes in class?"

"The excuse slips. They were of fine quality."

The excuse slips? What is this? "It took Susan a while. I had to gather stuff for her, but that's it." Another memory of harassing my friend to get on Collin's computer and get it done. I harassed her a lot.

"Indeed. So then the four of you were all alone together. Were you using your assets then?"

The fork freezes in front of my mouth. "Umm, sir?"

"Let me be more specific. Were you having sexual relations with Mr. White or Reynolds?"

"What?!" The question catches me off guard. "Umm, why do you think we were doing anything like that?"

"I require a complete picture to understand why you would risk expulsion, Miss Yeager. So were you?"

I have a brief flashback of those sun-filled days away from school. It was so much fun. I could almost smell the lotion on Craig... I shake my head. So vivid! "This is a little too personal, sir."

The wrinkled-faced man frowns. "A yes or no answer will do, Yeager."

I could hear the edge forming in 'Old Baldy's' voice. "Not sexual. No, sir."

He stares at me for a moment, but then nods. "As was said by your compatriots yesterday." The instructor raises his glass and Miss Holeman immediately steps forward to fill it. "Miss Yeager, why did you not want to stay with your mother after the divorce?"

I stop mid-chew. Why's he asking about that? "My mom, sir?"

"Yes, Yeager. Your biological mother. You chose instead to stay with your stepfather. Why?"

I really don't like this subject. "I'm sorry, sir. What does this have to do with anything?"

"It is very important, Yeager. The truth will help me understand what kind of person decides to remove themselves from a parent who took care of you all of your life and instead lives with a man you only knew for two years. Can you understand why I would be curious about that?"

My mom. The bully. Always trying to corral me. I didn't want to relive that part of my life. "Me and her didn't get along is all, sir."

Mr. Cox nods. "I had heard that from Mr. Montgomery. Why did you fight so often?"

I'm starting to feel really uncomfortable. "She was just, well, very strict, sir." Looking down at my plate, I have a memory of a fight I had right before the divorce. One that I'd started myself.

Mr. Cox raises a hairy eyebrow. "As opposed to Mr. Montgomery, I assume?"

I stop eating. I can sense the old man was very interested in this subject. My guard comes up again. "Yes, sir."

"And then there is this business with you running around the house half naked and getting into fights with your guardian. Can you explain your actions to me about that?"

"I never did that!" The image of Collin looking at me quite surprised as I toweled off darts before my eyes.

"Are you sure, Miss Yeager? Quite sure?"

"I was in the bathroom, sir! I can't help it if he keeps finding chances to peep..." He's staring at me. That cold stare.

"Miss Yeager. What did I tell you about lying to me?"

Oh, shit! He was setting me up. Getting me all relaxed with this fake atmosphere. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"Nearly everything said at this table has all been lies. Or are they not?"

"No, sir! I..."

"Careful. You may wish to not dig too deep a hole, Miss Yeager."

That game he was playing earlier. It was never really over. Yet I'm not feeling that pressure, and I didn't say anything stupid like before. "Sir. I'm not lying."

"Miss Holeman."

The tall woman steps forward. "Yes, sir?"

"Take Miss Yeager to the Punishment Room."

I drop my fork onto the plate in front of me. "What?!"

"You heard me, Miss Yeager. It is time to settle up for everything you have done today."

No, it's not. It's time to make them do something stupid. I fold my arms. "No."

Professor Cox just raises an eyebrow. "Miss Holeman?"

One second I'm sitting there. The next, the chair is drug back. I look up at the blonde in shock as she pulls it out from under me with seemingly no effort at all. It's all I can do to keep from falling straight to the floor.

"You will go with Miss Holeman one way or the other. But go ahead. You will only embarrass yourself more thoroughly."

I'm silenced by the coldness of the old man's voice. The absolute sureness in his position. Something's happened.

"Do you know why I know you are lying, Miss Yeager? You said it yourself."

The pressure is definitely back, and my pulse begins pounding. "I always lie?"

"That and Miss Susan Stuart finally cracked just before I returned. Her father had to work on her a bit, but she finally admitted that you were the ringleader."