Chapters Burying the Lead Chapter 2
Eventually it was just the two of them, walking down her street in the hot Texas suburbs, gnarly oak and pecan trees giving spotty shade where they could. The gaggle of other students had all been deposited at their front doors, one by one, leashes handed to fathers and brothers and houseminders and au-peres, and even a “home guidance system”: a carabiner clip descending from the ceiling to lead the girl inside and keep her busy until her family returned home. Handoff was important but apparently that counted. Looked expensive, and a bit lonely, Gwen thought.
Every one of them had little green approval slips poking out of their breast pockets, and even though Tegan lived in the opposite direction, her leash picked up by another chap, Gwen had caught a flash of green on her chest too.
“You must be awfully happy to be done with school,” her guide spoke, turning back. “What’s your name? You look practically ready to skip and jump!”
Finally he speaks, she beamed. “Yes, sir! Yes I am! I mean, it’s a lot of pressure off my shoulders honestly. I’m Gwen by the way, and you are…?”
He could’ve found her name between her Dad’s and the Cartwright home address, on the sewn patch on her leash loop, but he had asked her instead. Gwen wasn’t the only one here trained in manners.
“Charlie. Charlie Young. You’re my last leash for the day, so I thought I’d skip the formalities. You’ve probably had enough of ‘em too, right?”
Gwen batted her lashes and beamed, and actually did a skip and jump, before a little twirl and squeal. “Yes sir-ee! I’m finished!! I did it!!! School… is… oooout!!!!”
Her legs spread as far as the propriety hobble between her thighs would allow, and her school uniform bloomed and swayed, the sleeveless wrap tight as she turned and twisted energetically.
So unused to being unabashedly loud, even outside, Gwen caught herself with a blush, realizing he hadn’t given her explicit permission to break that many rules. Making sure her tether wasn’t tangled, Gwen twisted back the way she came and followed its length with a shy gaze to find Charlie smiling vicariously, fully approving.
Yet beyond him was a man, stock still on his porch, hands on his hips, eyeing the two of them dancing on the sidewalk. “You mind your woman there, son!” he called, and Gwen immediately demurred, curtseying mid-step, eyes to the pavement.
But Charlie pulled her cord to skillfully and silently indicate not to bother. “I’ve got her handled just fine!”
Snark aside, the pair sped out of the geezer’s sight then started giggling again. “Don’t mind him. I think you deserve a little reprieve, Gwen. I’ve just started helping out at Ford recently, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a school so strict!”
Gwen followed, head up, back in lockstep with her leash-holder. She didn’t have much to compare it to beyond her church’s daycare when she was a kid, but she knew the sales pitch. “I think it’s worth the trouble. Dad says the national registry of women is a mess of false certifications these days, and there’s not many finishing schools that still actually fail their students, they just give those failures a do-over. The Ford School has an impeccable reputation!” She held her chest proud, the green slip finally showing her worthiness.
Charlie chuckled, “Failures? That’s a little harsh! What if all your hard work was shot to high heaven by one wrong question on that exam? Or you came down with a flu this week? Wouldn’t you want a do-over?”
“Sorry…” Gwen checked herself, “I guess the Ford method is kind of intense.” She had to admit the school’s habit of pitting girls against each other had really seeped into how she spoke. Which was why, even after seven years, there weren’t many classmates she was more than cordial with. But she was proud to have come out on top, she was!
He shifted, obviously well-mannered enough to not let her dig a hole with her own tongue. “I’ve seen the national registry though, your pa’s right, it is such a mess. Plus, scrolling through hundreds of girls on offer does things to a man. It just becomes a blur, y’know?”
He twirled her leash. She didn’t know. Choice was on his side of the lead.
“Anyways, the point is I don’t want my wife to be from the listings, I want us to have a real connection.”
So he was a gentleman, and a romantic. “That’s so sweet. I would want that too, if it were possible.”
“What about getting on a local church board? Let someone from around here contact your pa?”
Her chin raised a bit, “I don’t know… church matches are mostly local boys who can only afford promises to public school girls — you know, four-year bare-minimum sort of thing.” Just enough to know where the baby pops out, Gwen kept to herself. “And though I’d be lucky with any promise that’s made to me, Dad has bigger plans. My sister and I have to be appealing to college graduates and young professionals. Providers.”
Charlie was quiet, and Gwen had an awkward moment to ponder if she was being overzealous again. Like all Ford students should, she turned the conversation back to him.
“I haven’t seen you around before. First day as a chaperone? You saw us at our best and boringest, I’m sure it gives an impression. You’re… not from the Boy’s School, I gather?”
“Oh me? No no.” he laughed but kept on, refusing to elaborate. Now that she could actually admire him, instead of peeking from behind the rest of his flock, he seemed a little older than the usual high school senior filling his timesheet. Not by much, but something lean and assured in the jawline told her he wasn’t a student.
But he didn’t say it in a way she could lead into further conversation, the thread of permission implicitly dropped, so Gwen followed him for the next block and a half in pleasant silence and curiosity.
Charlie led her past her fence and up the path to the porch, before hitting the doorbell.
They waited… but no one came to the door.
“Very nice place,” he offered to break the silence, and she thanked him. This had never happened before.
Charlie hit the doorbell again and knocked loudly, rapping on the solid door, and finally, finally a scampering could be heard from inside.
“Gwen! Gwen!” a muffled voice, high-pitched, just made it past the door. “Mom went to work with Daddy today, there’s some fancy lady from Austin teaching an art class in town, and she left me with Peter, but Peter said you were dragging your feet so he just went out biking!”
The elder Cartwright sister looked at Charlie, her eyes wide and worried as she listened, ear and shoulder pressed to the door. Harriet was only eleven, and it wasn’t okay to leave a girl alone in her own house; eleven, twelve, or twenty! The worst part was that Peter knew better, but Gwen also couldn’t tell him off. Even her fifteen-year-old cousin, rooming with them to supposedly understand his responsibilities in running a household and caring for the lesser sex, naive and careless in so many ways only a teenage boy could be; even he superseded her.
The two young adults heard a rustling inside, and Gwen took a second before she realized what was happening. “Harriet Eleanor Cartwright, you better not be trying to open this door with your shoulder!”
A garbled reply came quickly, “Who haid ah wah u-hing my holder? Wais uh tyhn!” as the knob rattled.
“Harriet!” Gwen cried, her sister not even aware how humiliating this was for herself! For Gwen! For their family name!
Charlie didn’t say a word, he just touched her waist and nodded reassuringly and took action, waving her leash loop by the doorknob so they could all hear the little safety pin fire inside, the electric whirr of a motor drag the deadbolt open. He gripped the knob with his hand, turning to open the door slowly, careful not to knock the precocious youngster down. Without arms, that would’ve been one heck of a fall.
And that’s the day a strange boy escorted Gwen into her own house.
If you enjoy this alternate history and its skewed lens, go read the original series, Thorns and Roses by CelestialSecrets’!