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"This is your dresser?"
"Yes," I said. She nodded, turned back to the drawer, reached in, and pulled out a pint bottle of rum. "Couldn't you hide this a little better?" she asked sarcastically.
My mouth dropped. I looked at Mrs. Penny, who gaped at me with surprise and disappointment. Deborah Peck had a faint smile on her lips.
"That's not mine."
"You just said this was your dresser. Other people put their things, in your dresser?"
"No, but . . ."
"Then this is yours," she said. She handed it to Mrs. Penny. "Dispose of this," she ordered. To Deborah she said, "Ten demerits." She glared at me. "Your punishment will be decided, and you will be told before the end of the day. Until then, you are confined to this room."
She turned and marched out. Mrs. Penny held the bottle in her hand as gingerly as she could, treating it like poison. She shook her head at me.
"I'm so ashamed of you, Ruby."
"It's not mine, Mrs. Penny."
"So ashamed," she repeated, then followed Mrs. Ironwood and Deborah out. As soon as they were gone, all the girls from the quad rushed to our door.
"What did she find?" Jackie asked.
"I'm sure you all know," I said dryly.
"Know what?" Gisselle asked, coming from behind.
"About the rum you put in my drawer."
"See? There she goes again. My fault. I'm not the only one here, Ruby. And other girls from other quads could have gotten into your room. You're not the most popular girl on campus. Maybe someone's jealous of you."
"Someone?" I said, smiling.
"Or maybe," she said, her hands on her hips, "that was your bottle."
I laughed and shook my head.
"I wonder what she'll do to you," Samantha said.
"It doesn't matter. I don't care," I told her, and I meant it. I didn't.
Just before dinner Mrs. Penny arrived to inform me that I was to spend the evening scrubbing all the bathrooms at the school. The head custodian would be waiting with soap and water and a brush. I was to do it every Saturday night after dinner for a month.
I accepted my punishment with a quiet resignation that annoyed Gisselle and both surprised and impressed the other girls. They never heard a complaint from me, even when it meant I wouldn't be able to attend movies or go to a dance. I knew the head custodian, Mr. Hull, felt sorry for me, and he even began to do some of my work and have some of it completed before I arrived.
"These bathrooms never looked so good come Monday morning," he told me.
He was right. Once I realized I couldn't get out of the penalty without causing even more of a problem, I decided to attack it with enthusiasm. It made it bearable. I took out stains that were seemingly embedded, and I got the mirrors so shiny that there wasn't the smallest smudge on the glass. On my third Saturday, however, I found that someone had stuffed the toilets in one of the bathrooms and flushed and flushed so the water would run over the floors. It was a disgusting mess and Mr. Hull came in to assist me, mopping up first. Even so, the stench got to me, and I had to get some fresh air to stop from throwing up my supper.
Two days later, I woke up very nauseous and had to run into the bathroom to throw up. I thought I had a terrible stomach virus or had been poisoned by the cleaning fluids I had to dip my hands into to clean the bathrooms properly. When the nausea came over me again that afternoon, I asked to be excused from class and went to the school infirmary.
Mrs. Miller, our school nurse, sat me down and asked me to describe all my symptoms. She looked very concerned.
"I've been more tired than usual," I admitted when she inquired about my energy.
"Have you noticed yourself going to the bathroom more frequently to urinate?"
I thought a moment. "Yes," I said. "I have."
