The Day of the Femmes, Parts 9-12

  

IX. Hair

"Okay, and one and two and three and you’re not cooperating, Miss Lawson," jabbered the gym teacher. Ancelin had had enough. Between the nagging to tie her hair back and the order to run, jump, do the Macarena, and do ten jumping jacks, she was dead tired.

"I’ve had quite enough out of you," muttered Ancelin in French, and sat down in the middle of the gym. "Bugger off, you old windbag!" she continued in English.

"What was that?" asked the teacher. "Did you just tell me to bugger off?"

Ancelin went pale. "So?"

"Down to the office," the teacher screamed, giving Ancelin a shove out the door. Quickly, so nobody would see her in gym shorts and a white T-shirt, she tiptoed down the hall towards the office. On her way she passed the principal.

"Detention," Cromwuss said automatically on passing her in the hall. Ancelin shrugged and went back to the locker room to change. There was no point in staying in gym class now anyway. With the five minutes alone in the locker room, Ancelin decided to fix her hair.

She knew it was remarkably lovely hair. The rest of her family was composed of bland blondes and brunettes, but Ancelin’s grandmother was a redhead and the highlights shone through in her beautiful mane. She ran the amber brush through her hair. She loved the way the light bounced off the deep burgundy strands. She twisted it back in a French twist, but it was too formal for this hovel of a school, so finally she just let it fall haphazardly around her shoulders. She had just spritzed the herbal hair potion from her great-aunt on the last square inch of hair when the other students came thundering in. Ancelin pushed her way through the crowd, knowing that she was truly more beautiful than any of these peasants.

X. Evening

It was three o’clock in the afternoon. School was letting out at Cattia Academy but several students stayed behind for detention. Ancelin shouldered her bag confidently and headed to the detention room. She thought she’d be the only one there but did a double take as she saw first Sassy, then Fiona! She went over and sat next to Sassy. "Hey, friend," she greeted Sassy. "Hey, can you help me with something?"

"Sure," Sassy answered. "What?"

"Here," Ancelin said, showing Sassy an odd, typed note on a pale rose 3" by 5" card. The note told Ancelin to go to the last lamp on the west wall of the building after her detention.

"Sounds simple enough," Sassy said, flipping the card over. "Seems to me you have a date with someone. So do I, in fact." Sassy reached inside her jacket and produced a pale blue card with the same text. "At first I thought it was from someone I definitely do not need to see but if you have one then I guess I should show."

They compared the cards, pointing out uncanny similarities. They tried to keep the cards flat on the desk so nobody would see them, but Lali, who was sitting two rows behind them, caught a glimpse of one of the cards. She pulled out her own gold card and moved up a row. Motioning for Fiona to stay back, she tapped Sassy on the shoulder. Sassy turned around, with a displeased look on her face.

"What?" she said flatly.

"I couldn’t help but notice your cards there," Lali said, pointing. "It just so happens I have the same card, only in gold."

" ‘Zat so?" Ancelin drawled in the accent of her father, a Texan. Returning to her customary English with a trace of French, she asked, "And just how did you come by this card?"

"Found it in my locker," shrugged Lali. "At first I didn’t think it was anything but then Fiona, that’s my friend, ran to me waving a card just like mine, only in green."

"You’ve come to the right people," Ancelin declared. "Bring your little friend over here and we’ll try to solve this puzzle." Lali and Fiona moved up a row and Sassy and Ancelin turned their desks around. The detention passed so quickly, none of them noticed the falling darkness, or the shrouded figure tiptoeing past the window on the west wall carrying a torch.

The detention let out at five. Together the four girls walked over to the last lamplight, the one that was always surrounded by fireflies. They waited and waited and when it seemed that nobody would come, someone did. "Show your cards," the voice said. The girls produced the cards. The voice’s hand slipped out of the shadows to gather the cards, verify that they were real, and return them. She cleared her throat twice before saying, "I have called you here tonight to tell you that you are four of a special breed of fighters, the spies of the World Intelligence Group, WIG for short. WIG apparently wants you four to work for them. You will be part of a special group solely for females called the Femmes."

"That’s it?" asked Sassy. "Well, couldn’t you have told us separately or something?"

"You are all part of the same local chapter. To tell you apart would only waste time and money," the voice recited from memory. She’d done this a million times before.

"Why us?" whined Fiona. She was late for dinner already; this on the day of the first detention she’d ever had was too much.

"You’re sweet and you’re the kind of kid who could do no wrong, Fiona MacNeil. You are Agent #019, code name Innocence," the voice said.

"What about me?" Sassy sneered. "I am not innocent, not after- well, never you mind what!"

"You are the tough one, the henchwoman of this operation. You are great at extracting stuff from others and making them pay if they’ve crossed you. You’re Agent #020. Your code name is Sweet Sass."

Sassy whistled. This person really did know everything!

Ancelin, who up until them had been fiddling with a strand of hair, yawned and asked, "Okay, who am I?"

"You would be Ancelin," mused the voice. "Ancelin Lawson, agent 018, code name Mimi la Bonc."

"Excusez-moi? Mimi la Bonc is a character on ‘Allo ‘Allo!" Ancelin informed the voice.

"Precisely why you’re she," the voice replied. "You watch ‘Allo ‘Allo, do you not? Well then?"

Ancelin shrugged. Lali was the only one left. "And I?"

"Lali la Faerie, agent 017, code name India Star," droned the voice. "If that is all, I bid you good day." And suddenly the presence of the voice faded.

"I have to go now," stuttered Fiona. "Um, see you tomorrow, Lali..." Fiona dashed off into the darkness.

"I should leave now, too," said Ancelin in a manner only described as "regal."

"And I shall join you," Lali said. "Coming, Sassy?"

"No, I live on the opposite side of town," she said. "See ya."

XI. Rival

Sassy whistled a little tune as she skipped home. This was great news, all right; she had something besides a great body and a bad attitude going for her. She rounded the corner and was about to unlock the door when a hand was clapped over her mouth and she was pulled back into the alley.

"Oh, shit," she thought. "Who could it be?"

She fought with all her might until her assailant let her go. He shoved her into the wall of the brick apartment building. She whirled around to see who it was. "Rusty?" she exclaimed, stupefied. That rust-haired brute, coming to her house, and having the audacity to grab her in the lamplight? What an idiot!

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sassy shrieked.

"I’ve come with a proposition. I know how very fond you are of me," he said smoothly, in his usual British accent. "You aren’t. The point is, I do kind of fancy you. I’ll make you a deal- you can have leadership of the gang if you do me a favor and let me spend the night at your place."

"That’s ridiculous, Rusty. You are out of your small mind!" she gasped.

"Watch what you say to me," hissed Rusty through clenched teeth. He stepped out of the shadows to her side and grabbed her arm roughly. "Or it might go poorly for you." He released her and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Now lead the way. It’ll look less suspicious."

Sassy did as she was told. How could she not? Rusty had the ability to snap her head clean off. He’d done that before to several other defiant folk of the streets. With trembling hands, she unlocked her apartment door and opened it to reveal a small but well-decorated room with one door leading into the kitchen and one door leading into the bathroom. "Here we are," she said flatly. Sassy stalked over to the couch and flopped down. She reached for the remote control and flipped the TV on. "Kitchen’s the second door from the left and the bathroom is the first; mistake one for the other and you are dead meat."

"No, Sassy," he said menacingly. "I told you I was spending the night. I meant you were going to show me what the boys on the East Side are always talking about."

Sassy flushed. Over on the East Side some of the parties had gotten a little out of hand and she’d gone farther than she meant to. So Rusty wanted more than just a place to stay, huh? "You aren’t getting any more than I’m obligated to provide. You are getting what you would have with a plastic doll."

"Plastic dolls don’t yell," Rusty whispered. "When I come back out you will be on that bed in the corner and you will let me do what I want. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," muttered Sassy, turning the TV off and resigning herself to yet another night of humiliation.

He emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, looking his own smug self. This was a conquest he was going to enjoy if it killed him. He walked to the corner and stopped at the foot of the bed. In her fatigue from the day, Sassy had forgotten what the sitch was the second she got into bed. Sassy had fallen asleep. Tousled black hair was splayed out in a circle around her head. There was no sign of the last moments’ tension in her; she was pliable and soft-looking and stunning. He reached down to shake her awake.

"Wake up," he commanded her. "Wake up and look at me. Falling asleep is the easy way out."

"So what? Leave me be and let me sleep," Sassy whined. Rusty’s anger boiled over. He slapped her cheek hard, leaving a bright red mark.

That did it. She was shocked back to consciousness by his violence and the feel of a strong hand on her sensitive skin. "What the hell was that?" she mumbled sleepily. He could see the hurt in those black eyes even as she tried to put up her customary façade of toughness and dangerous pride.

"I’m sorry, Sass," he thought. "Couldn’t let you sleep through it... don’t know what came over me..." But he did know. It was his own stubborn personality, that thing that got him what he wanted every time he wanted it. That stubborn side was going to get him arrested or killed someday, he realized with a jolt. He shook himself back to normal and knelt down.

"Look, Sassy, I know this isn’t what you want. But you’ll have to put up with it... this will get you all you’ve wanted since you joined the gang, don’t you see? You’ll be the leader. You can punish me then!" He stroked the fading handprint, trying to reassure and calm Sassy all at the same time. His other hand looked for a good perch, then settled on her shoulder. "Now come on, this is for the gang!"

"It shouldn’t be," she said quietly. "You will be number 10 so far... by now I should have had at least one real boyfriend. Oh, well. Get on with it."

"No," Rusty replied. "Not without seeing you fairly happy. No, don’t cry- Sassy!" he groaned. Sassy’s eyes were brimming with silent tears. She wasn’t the type to cry out with racking sobs, she cried quietly and with as little fuss as possible. "So all you want is a little affection? Fine. That’s easy. I’ve gentled many a scared virgin before like that." That only sent her body into further anger, making her shudder in her sadness and rage.

"Damn it! I want you, all of you, not just the part that wants to get a piece of tail!" she finally said. "I won’t do it if you’re going to be fake and pretend I’m the only one you’ll ever want to be with again." She stopped, wiping her eyes. "No, that’s foolish. That’s stupid. Now look what you’ve done, you’ve gone and caught me in a weak moment!" Sassy made a move to get up, thinking maybe some tea would help, but Rusty tightened his grip on her shoulder.

"Don’t move, Sassy," he said. "It’ll be all right, sweet Sassafras. No need to run and hide."

"Yes there is. You’ll go about your business and leave me alone. Where’s the pay for that?" she asked him.

"Didn’t you listen, in the alley? I said I fancied you! That’s right, even if you don’t believe me, that statement still holds true now, as it did twenty minutes ago!" he shouted. He calmed himself down, reminding himself that she was a very combative person. "Now, will you let me sit down, at least?"

"Sure," she said. He took a seat on the floor, next to her head. He gripped her right hand, trying to persuade her to do what he wanted her to.

"Sassafras Melusine Rubell, if you don’t let me crawl under those covers, I will flip my bloody lid and jump off the roof of this very building. Come on, you can’t be that heartless," he wheedled.

"Yes I can," she retorted. She sighed, a sigh of resignation. "Oh, all right. I’ll give you one hour, maybe two if you’re lucky. Just hurry up before I change my mind."

"Thanks Sass, you’re the best," Rusty said, kissing her on the cheek before throwing back the green quilt.

XII. Amiga

Ancelin was nearly to her family’s home herself when the indomitable Carson Delaney strode confidently up to her. "Hello, sweetcakes, what are you doing?"

"Whatver you’re not," answered Ancelin coolly. "Now have off, or I’ll scream."

"Oooh, feisty, Ancey baby," Carson remarked in a syrupy voice.

"And don’t call me either Ancey or baby. I am not under two and my name is not Ancey. Comprend-tu?" snapped Ancelin.

"Got it," replied Carson. "So, my French kiss, how was your day?"

"Just perfect until you stepped into it," said Ancelin, more annoyed than ever. "Look, do you have any idea what the words ‘go away’ mean?"

"Nope, only the words, ‘kiss me and I’m yours,’" smiled Carson in his usual patronizing manner. Ancelin dropped her bag and tackled the little creep.

"Hey, what are you doing?" screeched Carson. "Hands off!"

"Not until you promise me you’ll never come near me again," hissed Ancelin through tightly clenched teeth. Her fine white hands were now wrapped around his neck and squeezing. "Promise or I kill you!"

"I promise!" squawked the small man. "Now let me go-o-o!" he whined.

"Much better," Ancelin muttered, shoving Carson into a lamppost and stalking indoors. "Wow, that felt good," she whispered to herself. "Power of the Femmes, I suppose." She lugged her bag upstairs to do her homework.

It was nine p.m. when she finished the task. She stretched her tired and cramping muscles and yawned. The sandman was definitely begging her to let him put her to sleep. Grudgingly, she threw everything into the bag and turned down the covers. But a light tapping at the window insisted she see what was the matter.

She opened the window to see the face of her best friend from the old school- Alisande fan Charindan, sixteen and ten times more beautiful than Ancelin, not bad looking herself. "Sandy?" Ancelin whispered. "How did you get here?"

"I came because all is not right in Wonderland," Sandy told Ancelin. "You heard about the plague near the Hills? It spread to us. When it finally left us, my parents were dead and my sisters all seeking shelter with friends and boyfriends. I was the sickest and the youngest, Ancelin, you know my sisters would never lift a finger on my behalf." She paused, catching her breath. Even as she spoke, her green eyes filled with tears. "They left me for dead, and here I am!"

"Oh, Sandy, of course you can stay here!" Ancelin exclaimed, taking her friend’s arm and helping her into the shadowed room. "Here, you can have my bed, I’ll take the floor." Ancelin went to the closet and pulled out some blankets. She unfolded them on the rug and pulled a pillow from the bed. "We should sleep first; we’ll talk business in the morning." With that, Ancelin pulled the covers to her chin and was sound asleep.

 

Back to Feather Pen Products

The Duchess' Page

1