The Headmistress by Milena McKay
Of Feckless Exes & Injured Limbs
And so, with the truth about Magdalene Nox and her history at Dragons coming to light, Sam focused on the present and not on the memories of their now seemingly long past encounter in Manhattan.
Magdalene Nox was one of them. Sam could not really wrap her head around the events of the past couple of weeks. To be truthful, she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the events of the past three months either, but realized she should perhaps set that broader question aside and focus on more pressing matters.
Magdalene Nox had been a Dragonette for six months. She had essentially been expelled for being illegitimate, which, despite its archaic and horribly discriminatory connotations, had still been the rule in the school’s deeply religious charter back then. The document wasn’t updated until after Magdalene had been expelled, Sam realized, and thirty years ago it still reflected the customs and zealous beliefs hailing from 1810 and the school’s very origin. In fact, the same people who founded the school would later expand their ideals and form the Know-Nothing party. The ideology they promoted was backward even then, discriminatory, anti-Catholic, anti-many-other-things that were developing deep roots due to the anti-immigrant sentiment. And while it was much more successful down South, Massachusetts was its cradle, after it first made news because its members burned down a convent and tarred and feathered a Catholic priest.
So it wasn’t a surprise that the school charter included all manner of things that were intolerant and outdated. In fact, if the charter hadn’t been amended thirty years ago, most of its content would be illegal these days, due to how it discriminated against other religions, races, familial backgrounds, and of course sexual orientation. And that change was made because of Magdalene. Even thirty years ago, the Headmistress had caused a ruckus everywhere she went. They threw her out and then were forced to change the rules. And now she was back with a vengeance.
Was this what said vengeance looked like? Was this what she was doing at the school by summarily dismissing every single faculty member including resident faculty, every janitor, and Mess Hall worker? Reviewing the curriculum and throwing out half of its more progressive classes? Closing down three-quarters of the extra-curricular clubs and activities? Looking into cutting scholarships to save funding? Was this her way of getting back at the institution that hadn’t wanted her because of the circumstances of her birth, no matter what bullshit they’d chosen to put down as justification for her dismissal in her file? And what did she mean, ‘among other reasons’? Were there other grounds for her removal from the school? Joanne seemed like she was firmly convinced it was because Magdalene was an illegitimate child and felt extremely guilty for not standing up for her at the time, but was there something else?
Sure, the 80s, and even the 90s to some extent, were brutal in terms of religious prejudice among certain communities and in select enclaves, like Dragons. In fact at that time, pretty much the entire world had not yet caught up to the winds of change and the World Health Organization only removed homosexuality from the list of mental diseases in 1990. The thought made Sam swallow thickly at how many people were subjected to atrocities simply for loving whom they loved.
In those years, the stigma that came with being different, illegitimate, gay, was felt even more greatly. Throw in Dragons’ antiquated and obscure eye color preference, and you had the perfect storm for discrimination. Sam had felt it, growing up at Dragons, and only Orla’s tenure had lessened the oppressive intolerance despite the amendments the charter had undergone earlier. So change happened, at times slowly.
But at other times it happened quickly and could be devastating in effect and proportion. From her usual perch on the Amber Dragon Cliff, Sam could almost feel that change, embodied by the object of her thoughts, approaching. The graceful gait and the subtle scent mixing with the now almost wilted wild jasmine were both familiar. What wasn’t familiar was how a big, fat cat had suddenly become a constant companion to the Headmistress. Willoughby slunk towards Sam for a brief sniff at her hand before quickly padding back to the one he’d started to surreptitiously follow wherever she went.
“I spent my evenings here on the cliff during my short stay at Dragons, Professor Threadneedle. Tell me, was it my knowledge of the best hiding spots that gave away my history with the school?” The voice, the quiet, husky and inquisitive tone of it, stroked Sam’s senses like silk.
“You have a way of speaking about Dragons, both the place and the Academy, in precisely the correct terms. It’s never ‘The Dragons’ with you, rarely ‘The Three Dragons’, despite it being the official name, it’s almost always just ‘Dragons’. And yes, you know of Rowena’s and of the perfect hiding spot on top of this cliff. Plus, Joanne talked of you in ways that one doesn’t unless they know the person at least in passing.”
“My, you are a veritable Jessica Fletcher and Miss Marple all in one, Professor.” Magdalene finally came closer and, to Sam’s pleasure, pulled out a blanket. To Sam’s further delight, she sat in such a manner as to leave space for Willoughby, who trotted over and made himself comfortable next to the Headmistress, one of his paws gently and unobtrusively touching her thigh. He was asleep within seconds.
Magdalene rolled her eyes at Sam’s obvious mirth at the situation.
“I tried to dissuade him. But he seems to have made up his mind and refuses to stop stalking me.”
“Oh yes,” Sam laughed. “The poor, almighty Headmistress is powerless to stop a cat from following her and from obviously adoring her. Not only does he shadow you, breaking his infamous routine, he also allows you to touch him, which was anathema for this ginger boy just weeks ago. You must have a magic touch.”
Realizing what she’d said, Sam promptly shut her mouth and turned away from Magdalene, who’d regarded her with something like mischief in her eyes.
“What is it about you that I find myself willing to endure your total rudeness and all this jumping to conclusions and expecting the absolute worst from me, and yet I still enjoy your company?”
Faced with such complete and utter honesty, Sam had no other choice but to answer with some honesty of her own.
“This school is the only home I’ve ever known. It wasn’t always hospitable, or kind, or even welcoming to me. But Dragons was always there. And it raised me, through thick and thin.”
“And does this love and adoration of a brick and mortar place prohibit you from seeing that Dragons requires massive changes to allow the school to keep pace with the times?”
“You talk about modern times yet you ordered the restoration of the chapel which was quasi-abandoned for years. You talk about reform yet you closed down half the clubs—”
“Three-quarters of those, I believe.” Magdalene’s mouth twitched, and she shivered in the evening breeze. As if sensing her chill, Willoughby moved closer to her, his whole back now warming her thigh.
“If he wasn’t so cute, I’d regret all the scraps I’ve fed him from the faculty table. The traitor.” Sam tried for humor, but she knew she wasn’t really pulling off the softening of the blow.
“Oh, don’t take it out on the cat. You have made it very clear that you believe I want to dismantle Dragons brick by ancient brick, so I’m not sure I am capable of disabusing you of the notion, Professor Threadneedle.”
“And why do you persist in calling me that? We had sex for Christ’s sake, surely you can call me by my first name!”
“That would be unprofessional of me, Professor.”
As Sam tried to find something to contradict the ironclad argument, a rustle in the bushes behind them made her turn around. George stood there looking sheepish, and for a second Sam thought she’d overheard their conversation in its entirety. But the ever-gregarious woman smiled broadly and gestured towards Magdalene.
“Been searching high and low for this one. Finally remembered about this place. You’re being urgently summoned to the office, Headmistress.”
At Magdalene’s questioning eyebrow, George grimaced.
“The trustees are having a conniption over the Houses proposal, and your ex-husband is here in person.”
“Ah, they made him abandon his undoubtedly important pursuits in Boston and return to the island to stay my hand from cutting off the dragons’ heads. Some of them really should have gone into acting, for all the drama and theatrics they stage.”
With that, Magdalene rose swiftly and carefully picked up Willoughby, setting him on the ground as she shook out the blanket. He yawned, growled in displeasure, and then simply fell in step with her as she marched back towards the school, but not before gentle hands placed the blanket over Sam’s shoulders with a murmured, “It’s rather chilly here tonight, stay warm.” So much for professional detachment, Sam thought.
* * *
She spent another hour on the cliffs, enjoying the peace and ruminating on the meaning of the blanket, while being thoroughly warmed by it and the scent that clung to it. When she judged that enough time had passed to make an appearance at the Headmistress’ office and inquire about the verdict, Sam got up and made her way to the school.
But it wasn’t Magdalene who answered her knock on the door. Timothy Nox stood in front of her, his face impassive but for a shadow of what looked like displeasure that quickly crossed it before he composed himself.
“Sam, was it?”
Well now, if that was how he wanted to play it. Magdalene calling her ‘Professor Threadneedle’ showed Sam respect and a certain nod to her position as a teacher at the Academy in spite of their history. Timothy’s use of her first name smacked of a not-so-subtle attempt at putting her in her place, a place occupied by the hired help.
“Mr. Nox.” Sam’s inflection on the title didn’t seem lost on Timothy who smirked and opened the door wider to allow Sam to pass.
“I guess there has to be something about you that makes her like you, and I don’t for a second believe it’s all those awards.”
So this was going to be that kind of conversation then. Sam braced herself for it but stood her ground.
“I’m here to inquire about the call Headmistress Nox had with the trustees earlier. I’m sure you know I have a vested interest in how the school is faring.”
“Only in how the school fares? Or its Headmistress as well? I can’t help but hear she’s spending a considerable amount of time with a mere teacher. Put you on the transition commission, despite your… shall we say inexperience.”
“You mean my youth?” It felt somewhat good, if very petty, to throw that back into the older man’s face, since it was perhaps the only thing Sam had that Timothy could no longer claim. For in pretty much every other column, Timothy Nox had Sam beat. He was rich, handsome, he commanded a huge business empire, and by all accounts, he was accomplished in several musical and artistic pursuits. Sam could say none of the above and had exactly two thousand dollars to her name after all her student loans were paid. She also had no home or much artistic talent to speak of. She shrugged a shoulder and raised her chin a notch higher.
“Regardless of what might be going on, you would probably wish to know that I’ve never known her to go for younger women, Sam. In fact, I’ve never known her pursuits of women to be of any consequence in the long term, if you get my meaning? And I’ve known her for twenty years. But there’s clearly something about you that attracts her, I suppose, despite your rudeness.”
Sam wanted to flinch at the implications of what Timothy might have guessed about her, and her first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. But a strong denial would only appear more suspicious. An outburst of ‘How dare you insinuate anything about me!’ would only attract more attention. And so Sam stoically did not bat an eye. Additionally, being called rude twice in the space of an hour did not sit well with Sam, but since she couldn’t deny that she had certainly been rude to Timothy, even if only by provoking him, she just stood, silently awaiting further developments in this surreal discussion.
But then, just as suddenly as it appeared, Timothy’s belligerence seemed to drain away, and he stepped aside, turning his back to Sam, clearly lost in thought.
“Do you know I asked her to marry me pretty much the very first day I met her?” Timothy turned back around, and his face showed so much wistfulness, that Sam’s heart squeezed in empathy, although she had no idea why she felt bad for him.
“It’s true. She was a teacher at my parents’ school. And she was a force of nature. I fell for her in a second. They talk about love at first sight in all sorts of sappy books and movies. Never believed in that crap myself. But one afternoon they forced me to attend some ridiculous recital or another at Rodante. To this day I couldn’t tell you what the hell they were playing. Next to me sat the most intriguing woman I’d ever seen. Haughty and distant, she was just so captivating, and indeed, I was caught. Deer in the headlights. At the reception later that evening, I told her one day I’d marry her. I didn’t even ask her if she was single or taken. Yes, I do understand how creepy and bratty that must’ve sounded. Didn’t matter to me because I was completely in love with her.”
Sam must have made some sort of noise, because Timothy winced as if he’d suddenly remembered he wasn’t alone in the room.
“You must be wondering why I’m telling you all this.”
Sam remained silent. Clearly, the man required no answers or in fact any participation from her at this point.
“Well, it took her years to tell me anything about herself. Anything of consequence, of true value to her. And here you are, three weeks in, and I noticed during our transition committee meetings, that you already know her coffee order. Moreover, she gladly accepts your java offerings without blinking an eye. She told me you know she went to The Three Dragons, about her less fortunate beginnings, the whole sordid story of her being expelled from this godforsaken place…”
The name of the Academy being said in quite that manner felt wrong and cutting to Sam’s ear. Just another little thing to underline who belonged at Dragons and who didn’t.
“Her coffee order is not a state secret, and as for the rest, that wasn’t hard to find either. I’m faculty here and have access to the old files.”
Timothy whirled on her then.
“But why do you care so much? Why does Magdalene’s past interest you so much? Got yourself a crush on the Headmistress?”
Spittle flew, but despite being disgusted, Sam gave no ground and refused to turn away.
“Everything about the school interests me. And Ms. Nox, as you said, is the Headmistress.” Her inflection on the ‘Ms’ instead of the ‘Mrs’ made a vein pop on Timothy’s forehead, and Sam enjoyed it despite herself. “If you think I won’t use every advantage I can to salvage what can be salvaged from her cutting and chopping Dragons, you’re insane. My feelings for the Headmistress are irrelevant. The school is what’s essential.”
A calm voice from the door made them jump apart.
“Well, now that we have cleared all that up, Timothy, the room you’ve been assigned in the teachers’ quarters is at your disposal, since you are about to miss the last ferry, and Professor Threadneedle, despite all your scheming to gain and press an advantage, surely it’s past your bedtime.”
Sam flinched and turned around to see Magdalene standing in the doorway, her new, ginger shadow sitting on his haunches and glaring at the people in the office as if telling them off for occupying his space. Or maybe he understood what they’d been talking about just now. What Magdalene had surely overheard, how Sam pretty much confessed that she’d use any and all means to screw her over. God, would she really? That was the million-dollar question. How far would Sam go to save the school?
And the moment she started attributing human thoughts and feelings to a feline, it was time to call it a night—before she stepped into more potholes she’d be unable to dig herself out of.
“I assume you’re here to hound me some more about my barbaric methods of reform and particularly my bloodlust for the Houses, Professor Threadneedle. The trustees expressed the same sentiment to me earlier, and Timothy is here in person to impress on me the error of my ways. Still, it is my decision and my decision alone. Not yours, not the Old Dragonettes’, who are already mounting some idiotic form of protest. The Board gave me absolute power for a year to turn Dragons around and away from ruin. I’ll let all of you know what I decide by the beginning of the school year. Now—”
Loud screams from the hallway interrupted her.
“Headmistress! Magdalene! I can’t find Sam, come quick. Oh, thank goodness, Sammy, you’re here. It’s Lily!”
Grabbing Joanne by the sleeve, Sam could utter only a breathless, “Where?” before taking off running in the direction of the faculty quarters, where the older woman was pointing. She could hear Joanne behind her, slightly out of breath but still keeping up, and offered her a hand as they took the stairs to the second floor together. Right in front of Sam’s apartment door, the familiar, slim, gangly figure lay on the floor in the dark. Sam swatted at the nearby light switch to no avail and decided to shift her focus to the girl in front of her.
Joanne must have propped her up a bit against the door, as Lily was holding her ankle with a pained expression and her breathing was shallow, coming out in small whines and pants.
“Lily! What happened?”
“I dunno… I was coming to talk to you and I guess I slipped? Not sure, but… Sam, my ankle really hurts…” The girl was holding up bravely, but her voice was laced with pain and her cheeks were wet with tears.
Sam knelt on the floor and immediately felt the knees of her pants get soaked through. Water on the tiles? The old worn-out flooring would be slippery as ice if you so much as spat on it. With the amount of water spilled on it now, it was a veritable ice rink. Where the hell had it come from? She looked up, trying to see the ceiling, noting that Magdalene, who must have come running after them, was doing the same. The white rafters, while somewhat in need of a fresh coat of paint, were unblemished. The roof had not leaked.
“The last ferry is gone. It’s halfway to the mainland by now. And with Nurse Trufault no longer at the school… Does the village have a doctor? I called Joel, as per procedure—” George’s voice came out in loud pants as the secretary tried to catch her breath.
“You called Joel about this?” Magdalene appeared displeased. “And Trufault wouldn’t do us any good right now. Not only would she probably prescribe leeches or bloodletting, the incompetent fool, she’d not be here anyway, since she takes summers off.”
She knelt by Lily who was pale as a sheet and shivering. Pain, cold or fear, Sam thought, probably a combination of all three, since she was sitting in the dark in a huge puddle of water with what looked like a broken ankle.
“Sam, there was always a doctor in the village. Last I remember it was old Franz…”
Sam again marveled at how she hadn’t cottoned on sooner that Magdalene had spent time on the island.
“His son is the family practitioner now. He still lives in his father’s house. He doesn’t attend to the school’s cases much, and I’m not sure how he would even get up the cliffs...”
“Damn this backwater place and their refusal to finally connect the school and the town with a drivable road!” Startled by the sudden outburst, everyone turned to Magdalene, but she just lifted a hand in a pacifying gesture before taking over.
“George, Joanne, somebody? Do you have your phone on you? Call Franz Jr. or whatever name he goes by. We might need to send Lily to the mainland if it’s more than a clean break or if it’s more complicated than he can deal with. Oh, and get in touch with any of the fishermen. If she needs a boat at this hour, one of them will help us out.” She looked around as if searching for someone and right as her eyes were seeking, heavy steps could be heard and Magdalene’s face relaxed almost imperceptibly. “Timothy, help us carry her outside so the doctor won’t need to come up. I don’t think sitting in all this water is doing her any good.”
As she finished giving out orders, the Headmistress leaned closer and whispered something to Lily which Sam did not catch, but it made the girl smile in spite of her pain, and Sam was glad for it, glad and thankful that Magdalene was in charge.
Timothy picked Lily up, mindful of her injuries, and—with Sam’s help— carried her outside, while Joanne got out her phone and, trying to beat the spotty reception, dialed the doctor. Doing felt good. Doing felt much much better than standing around wringing her hands over Lily, who was now lying on the grass even paler than before, and whose tears hadn’t stopped running down her cheeks, despite her valiantly trying to keep them at bay. Sam had never broken or sprained an ankle, but she had injured most of her fingers playing volleyball, and she knew something about the pain the girl was feeling. The fact that she was this brave and not howling and sobbing, as Sam herself probably would have, was a huge feat in anyone’s eyes.
* * *
Franz had come surprisingly quickly, but after taking one look at the injury had demanded rather rudely that Lily be taken down to town, to his clinic. With the school inaccessible from town by car, they had to carry Lily part of the way, and for once Sam was rather grateful to have Timothy with them. For someone who looked like he had never done any hard labor in his life, he was surprisingly strong and had enough endurance to carry the girl down the winding path and to Franz’s truck which was parked at the bottom of the cliff.
Sam and Magdalene accompanied Lily to the clinic, and Sam held the girl’s hand throughout the consultation, daring the dour man to say anything about the girl on his examination table. She could see that he really wanted to show them the door, but either thoroughly intimidated by Sam—which was unlikely, for she knew she wasn’t scary even under the worst circumstances—or by the silent yet menacing presence of the Headmistress, he said nothing.
A couple of hours later, Lily, her badly sprained ankle in a rather fetching air boot, was made comfortable in the vacant teacher’s quarters right next to Sam’s.
“I don’t want her to be alone in that huge dormitory. She’ll need someone to look after her, and the five remaining seniors aren’t up to it. And here, either Joanne or I will be able to.”
Lily protested feebly that, once she got her crutches, she’d be just fine to maneuver on her own, but one look from Magdalene ensured full capitulation. Sam broke out in a sweat despite the look not being addressed at her. The power of those bi-colored eyes, put on display like that, was quite astounding. The sheer authority, the weight of responsibility, and the determination to get things done her way… Well, it was something. Especially when Sam had seen those eyes close in surrender. The dichotomy was stunning.
The Headmistress took her leave and, with the rest of the wellwishers having departed earlier, Sam remained to make sure Lily settled in comfortably and could reach her water bottle and the snacks Joanne and the rest of the folks still at school had left for her.
“You have to admit though, teach… She’s kinda hot.” Lily’s face was split by an unrepentant smile.
“Those better be the drugs talking, missy.” But Sam knew she was blushing as she tucked the blanket around Lily’s injured leg.
“I’m not saying anything. But you, despite all the fighting you guys do on the daily, like her ‘cause she’s kinda brilliant… No worries, your secret is safe with me. Plus…” Lily lifted her hands in surrender and then started shaking one of them as if scalded. “Hot, hot, hot.”
“Those are definitely the drugs talking. Now, you’ve got your phone, and I’m just a call or a loud yell away. Off to sleep with you.”
Lily was still mumbling about hot older women and their stern ways as Sam closed the door and was faced with one of the hottest older women with her own very stern ways waiting by her apartment, looking austere indeed.
“We need to talk about what happened, Professor Threadneedle.”
“What happened?” Sam stared at her rather dumbfoundedly.
“Water on slippery tiles and the lights not working in the whole corridor? You think there is nothing to talk about? The custodians replaced the bulbs, by the way—all three of them—and as you can see, everything is back to normal.”
Sam’s color drained.
“You think somebody tried to hurt Lily?”
“Considering that it all happened in front of your door, I don’t think that the intended victim was supposed to be Lily at all. Wrong time and wrong place for her, though.”
Confused and unsettled, Sam struggled a bit with the door to her apartment.
“How is she?” Magdalene’s voice sounded right next to her shoulder and Sam was hot all over again.
“You mean how is she now versus when you saw her three minutes ago?” Sam knew she was pushing it, but it was much better than still feeling embarrassed over being called out by a student for finding the Headmistress attractive and then having said attractive Headmistress ambush her moments later.
“I admit, I was rather too distracted by the neanderthal at the clinic to pay attention to what he had to say. I wanted to throttle him the whole time we were there.”
Magdalene pushed into Sam’s room as soon as she’d opened the door and without a backward glance stalked towards the window, staring distractedly into the darkness behind the glass. Sam could have sworn she saw neither the window nor the shadows beyond it.
“She’s just a child. And he almost refused to treat her.” The gravelly voice sounded forlorn and disappointed.
Sam gaped.
“You know, I think since you came to Dragons, I’ve spent way too much time trying to pick my jaw up off the floor. You do all these things, making cuts everywhere, chopping and changing, and ruthlessly throwing people out… You threaten the scholarship girls’ presence here, yet then you try to strangle the doctor who dared look at Lily sideways. I don’t understand you, Magdalene Nox.”
In a graceful motion that Sam followed avidly, Magdalene turned around.
“I think you’ve been surprised by me a bit longer than just the past three weeks.”
Sam found herself suddenly standing very close to the pair of deep amber eyes, the blue circle almost disappearing, being consumed by the darker color. And just as suddenly the feeling she’d had all week, of being untethered, of belonging nowhere and being no one, disappeared, the scent of wild jasmine grounding Sam like nothing seemed to have ever done before.
“I still have no idea why you even looked at me back in New York.”
Magdalene threw her head back and laughed, exposing the long line of ivory throat, and Sam’s mouth watered.
“A gorgeous blonde, alone at a bar, adorable in how out of place and awkward she looked and probably felt, was finally getting the courage to send me a drink… No, I have no idea why I paid you even one jot of attention that night.”
“So you spoke to me because I was so awkward and pitiful?” Sam gave her a puzzled look.
“Yes, yes, all charity on my part.” Magdalene bit her lip and Sam could see she was desperately trying to hide a smile. But the delight won, and the smile blossomed triumphantly on those kissable lips, transforming her whole face. Sam was instantly charmed and completely disarmed. A slender hand rose and fingertips caressed Sam’s jaw, from ear to chin, making her shiver. But before she gave into whatever else was coming, Sam had to make sure she cleared up her earlier blunder.
“I apologize about before… What you overheard with Timothy.” It felt imperative now, with Magdalene’s hand on her skin to tell her that, advantage be damned, Sam wasn’t conniving. That if they would go to war over the school, it would be a fair fight.
Graceful fingers brushed the line of her jaw gently, in a whisper of a caress, before reaching her mouth and tracing the lower lip. Sam’s tongue peeked out involuntarily and licked at the tender fingertips. Magdalene uttered a startled gasp, and as quickly as it had appeared, the hand dropped.
Magdalene took a step sideways, putting distance between them, effectively breaking the moment.
“Ah, about before… No apologies necessary. We do what we must. And please think about what happened in the hallway. Something doesn’t quite add up. Let’s regroup soon, I’ll want your opinion on what can be done about this, before I make a decision about involving the authorities.”
“The authorities?”
“With Joel already informed—and damn George for being so efficient—I’d like to follow up on what just happened here, Sam.”
With a backward glance, Magdalene stopped at the door and her voice lowered to that register that simply undid Sam. “You shouldn’t doubt your effect on people, Sam Threadneedle. It is quite devastating, when all is said and done.”
And just like that, with the whisper of her touch and the taste of her skin still lingering on Sam’s face and tongue, Magdalene was gone from the room, and Sam felt like the light dimmed a bit. She was alone and untethered once again.