Chapter 3 ENCHANTé RENNINGTON

[Scene]: En Route to Rennington

It was early when Amyra stepped out of the police building in handcuffs, then immediately escorted into an unmarked car for transport. The paperwork given to the security escort read "MYRA BENJAMIN," as this was her new identity while in the program. Then the man assigned to transport her loaded the probationer's bags in the car while she sat in the back seat.

Mayor Moore-Braun then walked over to the car window to say her farewells. She signaled to the man driving the vehicle to roll down the rear passengers' window to speak with her daughter privately. She then leaned in to whisper, saying, "Remember what we spoke about? Any problems, and it's the end for you, got it! Should you fail, you will be disowned, and probably end up like that dead negro-prostitute you cared so much about. With a stern look in her eyes. "DON'T FUCK THIS UP!" Then she sealed her admonishment with a Judas-kiss on the cheek.

As the car drove off, Myra didn't turn back but kept facing forward, ignoring her Mother's ill-spoken threats, having already endured it for years. Keep it together, she thought. It will all be over, one way or another.

[Scene]: Welcome to the Pride...

They were now pulling into the town of Rennington and right on time. Myra was in awe of her new surroundings, as it seemed that nothing matched what she pinged before the police confiscated her tech. I thought this was cow country, she told herself. Watching the townsfolk roaming around, seemingly in good spirits, differed drastically from the tubed videos she watched depicting the catastrophe months prior. Where's the devastation?...the tent-shelters? she wondered. Rennington looked like any other regular emerging city but more modernized and a bit tech-savvier than expected.

They then passed through plush forestry, just up the hillside, which meant the school was close by. Oh my gosh, she thought. Amazing!

They could now see the school emerging ahead. The gorgeous title stood out on the lawn like a landmark.

"SAINT BARTHOLOMEW ACADEMY OF THE SACRED HEARTS"

The title was written with marble and fused with perfectly chiseled white stone and embossed with gold trimmings. Myra noticed the crowds of volunteers lining up around the building and the influx of cars, supply trucks, and food shipments, crowding all entrances into the estate, leaving mass congestion at every orifice. The lines of newly onboarding volunteers, returning faculty, and visitors were backed up beyond the main gate.

Pulling over, the trusting driver quickly opened the back door, letting Myra out, then pulled out her roller and duffle bags from the trunk. He also handed her a large, sealed manila envelope, entrusting her to self-register as the school was awaiting her reporting in and were fully aware of her court and house-arrest orders. He then wished her the best, but she surprisingly hugged him, thanking him for making her last few days pleasant. He smiled, telling her, "it's all good, young-n...just keep your head up, aight?" As the car slowly drove off, Myra turned around, walking towards the end of the exhaustive registration line.

[Scene]: ...In the Building

The line finally found its way into the AC -controlled building. Thank God, she thought. Water bottles and boxed meals were being distributed in line with onboarding gift bags paraphernalia post-sign-up. On the walls, there was historical literature showcasing SBA's history dating back to the Salem atrocities of the sixteenth century. As Myra moved further in line, she never kept her eyes off the clock, as she had until 5 pm to check in.

Seemingly agitated, having waited all day, she had to use the restroom and quickly stepped out to do so. However, when she tried to hurry back, she found herself lost in the enormous halls. "SHIT!" she exclaimed. Nervous due to the time, she went in every direction before her but didn't see the line she left.

She then continued to move through the halls until she luckily found the school's Registration's Office. Too tired to turn back, she went in and asked the receptionist for help, sharing her court orders with her. The agitated receptionist proceeded to review the files, and as soon as she saw her name, she stared intensely at the young girl before turning to make a call. She told Myra to "Please, take a seat." As a tired Myra walked over to the lounge area, she distinctly overheard the receptionist whisper, "she's in here," then looked up to find the woman eyeing her directly while taking instructions over the phone.

Suddenly, the office door abreast from reception opened, and a calm, mature woman wearing a Nun's habit with sweats underneath came out, looking directly at Myra. She then signaled for Myra to come in with a kind smile. Finally, Myra thought.

As she sat down, she noticed that they were in the prior Chancellor's office, as his photo was still hanging on the wall with the date of the catastrophe, as his expiration. The woman was attractive, but Myra quickly became focused on the boxed lunch the woman pulled out from the fridge. She then handed Myra the food, which she took quickly and started eating.

"I take it they didn't feed you yet?" Mother Magdalene said.

"Not yet. Thank you!" Myra said. She noticed before her a desk plate with the name Doctor Magdalene Graeves, MD. The woman then sat in the Chancellor's seat, reviewing Myra's file then looking back towards Myra to see her with a confused look towards the nameplate.

"Yep, that's me," she said, sounding jovial. "I prefer Dr. Mags. Have a thing against the Magdalene Sisters, you know!".

"I see you've gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hmmm?" Seeing the girl's discomfort, she told her, "Don't worry. I don't judge... after all; we're all fallen one way or another, right?"

Myra shrugged her shoulders.

"All I ask is that you do your part and try to keep out of any trouble, and I'll do my best to help you where I can. Okay?" She also reviewed Myra's provisions with her.

As she concluded, Myra looked at the remaining onboarding items she received, one of which was a antiquated flip phone, then back at Dr. Mags.

In gratitude, she said, "Thank you; for everything."

Dr. Mags smiled. "I feel good about you; you'll do fine here," she said. "Welcome to Saint Bartholomew Academy!"

[Scene]: Welcome Home...

As Myra walked into the two-story loft, she was immediately flabbergasted by its ridiculous furnishings and petite size. What in hell? Seriously? she exclaimed. If this wasn't a cell, it was impeccably close.

"It's kinda cute," said the security guard, placing Myra's bag on the dated tile floor, but a shocked Myra didn't respond. As the door closed behind her, Myra slowly walked into the living room and sat down on the wretched couch, congesting the center space. But she was too tired to care. She was exhausted, tired from all the betrayal, the threats, and the loneliness. "Em," she whispered. "Why did you lie to me?" Yet sleep did not come instantly. The empty, ominous room provided no comfort, yet she had to endure it, seemingly alone.

[Scene]: ...Welcoming BBQ

As Myra stepped off from the trolley, she walked over to the campus BBQ which, to her, looked more like a mini-county fair. The entire community was there; some came with their families or fellow townsfolk. After an excellent welcome speech and opening prayer by Dr. Mags, visitors cheered heavily for their new fearless heroine and leader, the one that never let the town down. Listening to the gossiping patrons, Myra learned that Dr. Mags was the reason SBA was still standing, even after the threat of closure ensued. Yes, she was a true angel to the people, and all believed Rennington would have fallen if it were not for her.

After finally grabbing her dinner, she noticed a secluded spot towards the back of the bleachers, away from the Bonfire and the majority of guests. She quickly sat there, not noticing that someone already claimed the area. While eating, she then saw a fresh pair of sneakers staring back at her. When she looked up, it was a cute, spunky little young Latin woman standing there wearing an assistant cheerleading coach jacket. She also had a tattoo on her ring finger, the kind someone would get in prison to show partnership. The two shared a quick smile while the lady was getting off the phone.

Tari said, "You must be new, huh?"

"Yup. I'm Myra M... Benjamin."

"Okay, M... Benjamin. And you're also in my seat, boo!" Laughing kindly, she then told her, "It's all good. Don't worry bout it. (sitting next to her) I'm Ataria Cruz, but people call me Tari."

The women immediately hit it off, talking about little nothings, where they lived, worked, and the 'how goes its' people generally do in first introductions. She felt comfortable with Tari. She was easy to talk to and funny, with her quirky sensibility and comedic take on every topic discussed. The two women eventually exchanged contacts, and Tari offered to help Myra take some things back to her place.

Meanwhile, as the two women were walking away, staring at Myra across the courtyard was Dr. Mags. She was elated to see Myra out, assimilating, and in better spirits than prior. And Tari would definitely play a perfect distraction. There was something about her, Mag's thought. Destiny was in play; it brought her here. But only time would tell this tale, Mags thought. Yes, indeedie; for now, you're one of us.

[Scene]: One Afternoon...

As the days lingered, Myra felt she was getting nowhere fast, and the longer she was here, the slower things took. The dreary monotony of waking early and going to bed late was slowly draining the life from her. Too proud to ask for help, she suffered silently and only took freebies from Tari. Yet, as abysmal life was to her when she would observe her equally unfortunate coworkers, they were the opposite in demeanor. They always seemed cheerful and laughing. Day by day, they worked hard, taking pride when listening to their cultural tunes while singing and dancing at a moment's notice.

After break, Myra was putting away the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher when Maricela Nunez, a 24-year-old veteran, was carrying some clean racks of dishes back from the dishwasher when she slipped and almost fell, but Myra caught her. Seeing the lady was still in pain, she helped her to the breakroom to rest and cleaned up the mess before completing her shift.

The next day, Maricela found her during break-time sitting alone in the stockroom. She then asked her to join her for lunch. When it was time to eat, Hector, Maricela's nephew, snuck in a few extra serving containers for the team. The area was set up almost like a Thanksgiving feast. Seeing Myra was oblivious in the moment, the room became surprisingly still. Only the sounds of the radio and a rusty blowing fan could be heard. As Myra continued to spread honey on her peanut butter sandwich with dated apple slices, the others watched in amazement. "Qué diablos está haciendo ella? ... said Leo.

The others couldn't believe that she would eat so wretchedly when there was so much food here. Then, Maricela (the group's matriarch) silenced their whispers, shouting... "cállate", then walked over to Myra and took her lunch from her, then threw it in the trash.

Maricela turned back to Myra, saying, "It's okay, baby."

Maricela then spoke to Cesci and asked her to make Myra a plate. Pronto!

"Ju eat with us; no?" Maricela asked.

Nervously, Myra responded, "Ummm...I don't have any money to pay..."

"Neither do we!"

EVERYONE LAUGHED!

As that day ended, Maricela came over to Myra with a few bags of grocery items from the kitchen.

Maricela asked, "Ju take this home, si?"

"It's okay. I'm fine!"

Pulling Myra aside, Maricela said, "How much do ju think these kids really eat? They no eat, and we here all days."

"I know," Myra told her, "I can't afford any more problems. It's complicated."

Maricela said, "Baby. I don't know why they put a smart girl like ju here, but ju're one of us now. Like ju, we make pennies with no overtime. Sure, we have a union, but that's to keep the cops from sending us home. So we find our own way. Tu comprendes?"

As days followed, she started showing Myra the ropes of how the other half lived. How the illegals survived under the radar. Any time before today, she would have jumped at the chance to judge blindly, but now, she was the destitute one; ironic.

[Scene]: A Month Later...

Myra returned home, escorted by Tari and Maricela, blindfolded. As they walked through her door, Myra smiled, expecting a birthday cake and the new bathroom Julio's cousin promised for weeks now, but her new comrades had something else in mind. As coworkers and friends stood around quietly, waiting to capture her reaction, Maricela could not hold back her suspense and pulled the blindfold off from Myra's eyes. "Now, Myra," said Maricela

"SURPRISE" everyone shouted.

She turned to Maricela's shoulder, crying, filled with so much reverence,.

They celebrated her birthday with a completely made-over apartment, giving the once tight-knit place a roomier look and feel. She brushed her hands on the built-in desk and smiled at the brand-new island-themed living room set whilst staring down at the smiling faces downstairs dancing to music and enjoying the new place with her, thinking, I really love you guys.

[Scene]: In the dead of Night...

After everyone left, a sleepless Myra walked down towards the patio where the fire pit was still lit. She sat down in front of the pit, staring purposelessly at the flames. With the crucifix in her hand, rubbing it over and over, yet nothing happened while she sat rapt by the sounds of crackling firewood. As she drifted to sleep; her memories of that night started to come back.

Reminiscing about Em's death, Myra started to recall that the drink Em gave her was laced. Then waking up to the stench of death with no shoes or panties on, and 6 dead men circled around the bed, symbolically. She recalled going to the bathroom to throw up, then finding Em face-down on the putrefied, bathroom floor. Her throat sliced, which damn near terrified the shit out of her. As she looked closer, Em's eyes were staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Myra saw herself holding Em's dead body, her socks now soaked from the bloody floor. Upon looking down at her face, the dead Em quickly stared back at her, saying, "You happy now, Bitch?"

Myra screamed... then immediately awoke from the night terror. She looked down to find Em's crucifix burning in the pit's flames but couldn't get to it. Shit! Her mind howled, freaking out. As it burned, she thought, just like Em, she couldn't save it. Now there's nothing left. How did it fall from over here? So many questions, yet no answers would come tonight. She then turned to the clock, 3:33 am. Fuck! she thought. A few hours left.

She swiftly went back to bed, quickly passing out. As she slept, a dark figure emerged from her wall mirror, watching her. Its wall-to-wall fluorescent green eyes glowed at the sleeping beauty, watching every breath she took while an 80's love song played on the radio.