Page 1 of One of Them

There they were, the little group she’d fallen in with last year, sitting together as they always did.

Graceless and large, Midge Tucker looked too big for the delicate armchair into which she was crammed, while Peggy Sawyer and Tabitha Talbot—sometimes they called her Tabbie—were jammed together at one end of the velvet settee.

Carol Wyland faced Midge on a matching armchair, and Virginia Worthington sat squarely in the middle of the settee, taking up more than her share of the space.

When Anne reached them, she saw that even though she joined them for tea almost every day, no one had saved her a spot.

“You can squeeze in here.” Tabitha shifted over on the settee, and so did Peggy; Virginia, the acknowledged leader of their set, did not yield an inch.

Tall, with a mane of dark-blond hair and a lean, athletic body, strengthened and honed by the kinds of rough team sports that made Anne cringe, she wasn’t exactly pretty; her eyes were too close together, and her nose was too long.

But she projected certainty and confidence; these qualities gave her power, power that drew all the other girls to her and kept them in line.

“That’s all right.” Anne set her teacup down and went to retrieve an ottoman she had spotted over by the windows. When she returned, one of her cookies was gone. Virginia looked up at her, expression ever so slightly mocking.

“Hope you don’t mind.” She patted her lips with a napkin.

“Of course not.” There was nothing to be gained by challenging Virginia, especially in front of an audience. Anne sat down and tried to make the lone cookie last. At least the tea was hot, and with the three spoonfuls of sugar she’d added, something of a consolation.

“... so last night I saw her in the hallway and she was acting so peculiar. Almost like a sleepwalker,” Peggy was saying.

“What time was that?” asked Midge.

“Oh, maybe around midnight,” Peggy said. “I’m not sure.”

“She always seems to be doing something... odd,” said Peggy. “There’s something different about her. Something not quite right.”

The subject of this conversation was a girl named Delia Goldhush; she lived on their hall in Main.

Delia was not friendly with any of them, and never seemed to register their presence or even their disdain; Anne wondered how she managed to rise, seemingly without effort, above it.

She knew that the ill will of these girls would have tormented her.

“Well, I saw something even stranger,” Virginia said, and everyone looked expectantly in her direction. “Early this morning she was walking along the path, all the way to Main Gate. She walked right through it and off the campus. By herself. At dawn.”

“Where do you think she was going?” This was from Tabitha, who’d moved from Raymond; she hadn’t lived in Main with the rest of them last year, and so the subject of Delia was relatively new to her.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Virginia said. “But wherever it was, I’m guessing she didn’t want to be followed.” She paused for effect. “Because it was probably a place where she had no business being.”

“Do you think she was doing something... illicit? Illegal even?” Tabitha sounded mildly titillated by the possibility.

“Could be...” mused Peggy. “Maybe she’s a thief? Or a spy?” The war was only just behind them; there had been a lot of talk about spies.

The girls fell silent for a moment as they tried to imagine Delia’s clandestine mission, but no one had anything concrete to offer.

“Well, even if it’s not anything like that, it’s still strange,” Midge finally said. “She’s a strange girl. But they all are.”

Anne was well aware of what they meant; she’d heard it used the same way many times before.

“What can you expect?” said Midge. “Everyone knows they’re a bit devious. And that they keep to themselves.”

“Exclusive,” added Virginia. “And superior. Like they think they’re better than other people.”

There was a general murmur of assent. Although no one said the word Jewish aloud, Anne knew that that was what they were talking about.

Being one of the few Jewish girls at Vassar, Delia was immediately set apart, and her background had been a subject of intense interest and scrutiny since freshman year.

This turn in the conversation—and indeed all such conversations—made Anne hugely uncomfortable, and she often tried to steer their talk in another direction.

But today she had not said anything, and now she realized her silence could be interpreted as a form of support for Delia, a dangerous assumption, one that she had to dispel.

“Virginia’s right,” she forced herself to say.

“Wherever she was going at that hour of the morning had to be suspicious.” She was rewarded with a smile from Virginia, so she continued.

“I know I wouldn’t do it. None of us would, right? ” There was nodding all around.

“I could report her, you know,” Virginia said. “I’m sure the dean would want to know about these excursions. How could Miss Goldhush explain them? She might be suspended. Even expelled.”

“Expelled...” said Midge in a tone that conjured the shame such a fate would bring.

“She’d talk her way out of it. They always do,” Carol said. Again, the vigorous nodding.

The more time they spent on this topic, the more quietly agitated Anne felt. She tried to think of something, anything, to change the subject, but her mind was like an empty box—nothing was inside it.

Then Tabitha said, “Would you really do that, Virginia?”

Anne was surprised that Tabitha, the newcomer, had dared to ask. But Virginia was invigorated by the question. “Maybe,” she said. “She certainly deserves it.”

Deserves what? Anne thought. She hasn’t actually done anything. But she dared not say it.

“It’s not as if I’d be doing it out of spite or anything,” Virginia continued.

“I have a responsibility to our classmates.” She looked around.

“We all do. After all, we know those people can’t be trusted, not really.

My father found that out the hard way.” Virginia’s father owned a large paper company and felt he’d been taken advantage of by the owner of another company.

That this man was Jewish was a fact Virginia never failed to mention.

“I don’t know,” Peggy said. “There’s nothing to tell really. At least not yet. I mean, she hasn’t done anything.”

“Yet,” said Virginia. “She hasn’t done anything yet.”

“So let’s keep watching,” said Tabitha eagerly. “And then report back to each other.”

“Good idea,” Virginia said, and Tabitha beamed. “I’d like to know more about what she’s up to. And I also like knowing I could tell on her if I wanted. It gives me a little advantage.”

“Even if Delia doesn’t know you’ve got it?” Since Virginia had signaled her approval, Tabitha must have felt she had license to ask.

“ Especially if she doesn’t know it,” said Virginia sharply.

Now Tabitha’s face turned pink and she looked flustered; the other girls erupted in nervous titters.

In that moment, Anne pitied her. Tabitha hadn’t yet learned the rules that governed this group of girls. Now she had. Yes, Virginia had smiled at her, but that didn’t make Tabitha an equal. She would know better next time.

Why Anne—or the rest of them—put up with Virginia’s subtle and not so subtle bullying was still a mystery.

Anne didn’t even like Virginia. But if she alienated her, she would be ostracized, a truly dismal thought.

Freshman year had been a hard, even miserable time.

Her father had suffered a fatal heart attack when she had still been in high school and she hadn’t fully recovered from the loss.

Her mother had died when she was a baby, so she’d never known—or missed—her.

And anyway, her father’s lavish and abundant love had expanded to fill the gap.

He’d been devoted to her, far more so than the fathers of any of the other girls she knew, and though he worked long hours during the week, he went into the office early so that he could be home for dinner almost every night, and he spent most weekends with her too.

He read to her, talked to her, listened to her.

She had been his adored companion, his princess, his kitten, his bunny, his kumquat—one of his favorite names for her.

Now she was no longer any of those things, and never would be again.

Thankfully, the conversation had moved on, and even though it was early in the semester, there was talk of midterms, and beyond that, the Thanksgiving break.

Anne would spend the holiday with her aunt, but oh, how she would miss the way she and her father had celebrated.

On this one day a year, he joined Hannah in the kitchen and enlisted Anne’s help as well.

He’d have ordered an enormous turkey, and together they’d have made two kinds of stuffing, several side dishes, and at least three pies: pumpkin, apple, and chocolate cream.

Anne’s eyes welled with tears when she thought of it.

“Are you all right?” Carol asked.

“Me?” Anne blinked. “I’m fine. Why are you asking?”

“I thought you were about to cry.”

Everyone turned to stare at her; Anne felt her face get warm.

“No,” she said. “My eyes have been watering lately. Maybe it’s allergies.”

“You never mentioned you had allergies,” Virginia said.

“Allergies can pop up anytime,” said Carol. “Out of the blue, I became allergic to cats.”

Anne gave her a grateful smile. “I’ve always had sensitive eyes,” she added. “Very sensitive.”

Virginia looked at her a moment longer before she turned her attention elsewhere.