| Subject: Story of Joanne - P1 Ch9 |
Author:
Rose
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Date Posted: 02:56:50 09/20/02 Fri
In reply to:
Rose
's message, "Story of Joanne - P1 Ch8" on 02:54:49 09/20/02 Fri
~Chapter Nine~
Key of the Lake
She banged on the door again, having gazed back at the water and, finding that the hole had expanded to the width of her little finger. She began to pound on the door with one of the table legs. But the door was of hard oak wood, and she was far under the floors of the often-travelled corridors.
Joanne sat down, trying her best to think of an idea to help her get out. “All right, I was raised by my parents; among scientists. I can think of something without losing my voice. Really, I can!” she added, almost as if she were giving herself disbelieving looks and sniggering at herself. “Never mind, I can't. I've just successfully succeeded in confusing myself. Congratulations, Joanne.” She groaned and leaned back against the door, catching sight of a chair leg.
“That's it!” She jumped up, picked up the rotting piece of wood, and raced towards the broken trapdoor. Standing on her tiptoes and as many chairs as she could pile up, she managed to stick the piece of wood into the gap. Dusting off her hands, she smiled.
“There!--no--OUCH!” The pile of chairs she had been standing on collapsed under her weight. Joanne fell towards the ground, and, trying to stop her fall, grabbed hold of the closest thing she could find--in this case, the chair leg. It came out of the ceiling and she landed on the floor, with a considerable amount of lake water soaking her clothes.
She managed to look up at the damage she had done. Joanne closed her eyes, not even bothering to move away from the small waterfall pouring onto her lap.
When the water was up to her ankles, Joanne regained enough presence on mind to crawl back to the door, the part of the dungeon that was the most elevated. Here, only an inch of muck swirled around her shoes.
“This is hopeless.” was her only thought as she stood back up and started to pound on the doors again.
“Hello? Can somebody hear me, please, hello?” In a sort of rage, she started to kick at the door. Her voice was useless, as she had a sore throat at the time. “Is someone there, I need help!”
She whirled back around to hear a cracking noise. Several stones had fallen from the ceiling and with them a small flood. “Oh, why do these doors have to be so heavy?” she wondered as she pounded the hard wood, already in waist-high water. Sitting down was impossible.
“Someone, help me!” Joanne started to reel with fright.
As she frantically banged on the door yet again she noticed a small section of the door was rotting away. Hoping against hope that this would work, she dug her nails into the small rotting section near the edge and ripped bits of the rotting wood out. Surprisingly the small rotting section ripped apart easily and soon she had made a small hole in the door. Joanne took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking body. She stuck her mini torch through the gap and sent as many bright flashes as she could manage down the corridor.
“If no one sees this, I don't know what I'll do.” She closed her eyes, then, as if struck with a sudden insaneness, started to throw small stones she could reach through the door.
Upstairs, the students were getting up from dinner in the Main Hall. Meandering along a corridor to his common room, one student caught sight of several faint flashes down a dark corridor. He followed them, wondering. Many staircases later, he found himself far under the school's regular corridors. He stopped, having heard someone scream. The scream was repeated, and the voice sounded somewhat familiar. He moved quickly down a corridor.
Inside the dungeon, Joanne was desperate. The water was chest-high, and she had made close to no impact on the dungeon's door.
“Help, someone, please!” she shouted as a last-ditch effort. She thought she heard something outside.
The water was rising faster now, and she leant against the door in silent acceptance. The next moment, there was no door, and she was looking into the dark eyes of someone she thought she knew. The last thing she remembered was the bang of the door as he closed it again, preventing the water from rushing out.
Joanne found herself lying down somewhere. Groggily, she opened her eyes. The environment was familiar, but a bit unexpected. The white walls and sheets of the Medical Wing surrounded her, along with several worried faces. Joanne shook her head and pushed herself up.
Amanda was the first to react. “Jo!” She had thrown herself on the bed, hugging her friend around the neck. “We were so scared that you were-you were-oh, Jo!” Exaggerating a choking sound, Joanne managed to breathe again.
“Why am I here?” she asked, massaging her neck a bit. Her eyes travelled to her visitors, most of them bent over her bed--Nathan, Ben, Nicky, Daniel, Gen, Amanda, Poppy, Rosa, and, surprisingly enough, Max Wheeler. It was Wheeler her eyes fastened on, who was seated in a chair near the door. “What're you doing here?” was her confused question.
Mrs Hilton, the matron bustled over. “Oh, good, you're awake. The headmaster will be in, in just a moment. Drink this.” She pushed a cup of nasty-smelling liquid under Joanne's nose. Joanne frowned, but managed to gulp it down without spitting the slimy mixture back out.
“What happened?” she asked as soon as she was able.
Amanda, Daniel, and Nicky sat down on the bed. Amanda was the first to speak. "I still don't know most of what happened, but you got carried back from the dungeons, and then there was this news of a flood down there, and you've been lying here for two days!"
Joanne's mouth dropped. “Two--two days?”
Nicky nodded. “Mr Gilmore was in here along with half of North Tower and a bunch of Souths and Easts. Of course, he came, too (he nodded towards Wheeler), though why, I don't know, and we've been sitting here since Mrs Hilton let us in.”
“Yeah,” Ben grimaced, “at about twelve.”
Joanne put the smoking cup on the nightstand. “What time is it now?”
Poppy pushed back the sleeve of her blazer. “Five p.m.”
Joanne yawned and dropped back onto the pillows. “I don't really know what happened, besides that I was in this dungeon, and then the door slammed shut, and the lake water started to come in, and I couldn't get out.”
Nicky started. “You--you were locked in a dungeon downstairs?”
“Yeah.” Joanne nodded. “I couldn't open the door. Why?”
He gulped. “Never mind. I'll tell you later.”
The door creaked and a figure in dark blue clothes entered. All of the visitors stood up and moved back from the bed, and the headmaster moved towards Joanne.
“I shall not require any explanations tonight. Mrs Hilton does not want you to be moved back to your dormitory until tomorrow.” He suddenly held out a thin gold key with a weird pattern inscribed on its surface. He whispered quietly “Have you seen this before?”
“No, sir.” Joanne replied.
Gilmore nodded slowly. “I will leave you to your friends. On second thought,” he added, “I will require all of you to leave us here for a moment. Mr Wheeler, you stay here, please,” he requested as Joanne's friends trooped out, a bit reluctantly.
The door closed with a soft bump, and Gilmore turned back to Joanne and Max. “Mr Wheeler, you, I think, will be the best one to tell her about her accident. Good night to you both.” He left, closing the door behind him.
Joanne scanned Wheeler's eyes suspiciously.
“About what accident?” Joanne asked Wheeler, still a bit tense.
“Don't you remember what happened down in the dungeons?” Max replied.
Joanne frowned. “That accident? I mean, was that an accident?”
Max shrugged, his frown lessening. “From Gilmore's point of view it was. I don't think Nicky meant for you to be drowned or to--”
“Whoa! Time out! Nicky meant for that to happen?”
Max looked a bit impatient. “I just said I didn't think he did it on purpose. But he did lock you in there.”
Joanne held her ears shut. “He did what?”
“Locked you in the dungeons. But that is not what I was going to tell you.”
Joanne uncovered her ears. “What, then?”
Max handed her a glass of water. “Have you ever heard of smiths?”
She frowned. “What do you take me for, an idiot? Of course I have.”
“Sorry.” Max held up his hands. “There are many idiots in the world.” He let his hands sink. “In Canton there are the best smiths in the world. And this-” He pulled out the funny shaped gold key with a weird pattern inscribed on it. “This is one of their workmanship. It is kind of special, it can open any door in the land of Canton.” Wheeler sounded envious as he stared at the key; he looked at if he wanted it badly. “I've done lots of studying on this in History class, this which happens to be one of the most unique things they have made."
Joanne frowned. "How did it come here?”
Max regained his usual scowl. “I’m not sure, it was presumed missing for hundreds of years.”
Joanne was puzzled. “And what does all this have to do with me?”
Max looked astounded. “You mean you don't know?”
“Don't know what?”
“When I dragged you out of that dungeon, this was in your hand.”
Joanne spilled her water all over her lap. “You unlocked that door? I thought it was Benjamin!”
Max scowled. “That's not a compliment.”
Joanne tried to clean the water up. “I don't give compliments. I thought it was Ben.”
Max sighed. “If I can be mistaken for him, then I need to dye my hair orange.”
Joanne smirked. “Wash it, too, while you're at it.”
Max stood up. “I don't know why I even bothered. I really should have left you down in that dungeon.” With this parting remark he left the Medical Wing, slamming the door loudly.
Joanne raised her eyebrows. “Well, he does need to wash his hair.” She sighed loudly, feeling the water soak her nightgown.
Joanne caught a nasty cold, and Mrs Hilton waited two days before releasing her from the Medical Wing. Joanne was thankful to leave, as it got very lonely when she had no visitors. There had been no other patients, and the only thing Joanne could do when she was alone was sleep.
Mrs Hilton had asked Poppy and Amanda to escort her to North Tower, as Joanne's legs were a bit shaky from spending all that time in bed. The rest of North House were at dinner when they climbed up the stairs to their common room.
Amanda went first. “Do you want to go straight up to bed? Because I know they'll all want to know what happened, and when you're in the dormitory, at least I think the boys won't come up.”
Joanne laughed. “What, are you crazy? The last thing I need right now is bed rest.”
Poppy closed the common room door behind them. “Well, I asked Davenport, and she refused to let you out of homework. I got everything down for you, if you want to start right now.”
Joanne groaned. “I totally forgot about homework. Yeah, I guess I'd better.”
Halfway through the long essay on the different uses of metals and non-metals for their science teacher, Mr Cramer, the common room door opened. Amanda started to pack up their things as quickly as possible as a few seventh years drifted in, and by the time the noisy, chattering crowd had filled the common room, Amanda, Poppy, and Joanne had successfully escaped to their dormitory
Joanne finished the essay as fast as she could, hiding in her four-poster. Amanda and Poppy had also climbed onto her bed and were doing some English homework.
Joanne finally put down her ball-point pen and sighed.
“Phew! Glad I'm done with that!” She flopped back onto her pillow and ruffled her hair.
Amanda rolled her eyes. “You'd better be glad that was the only essay we had to do this week. In science, we did a lot of practical lessons. One thing we did in his class was learning how our lungs work.”
“Watch.” She pulled open the bed hangings and went to her trunk, on top of which there was a model of the lungs; being two balloons attached to some sort of pump.
“I pinched this from one of the science labs.” Amanda explained as she saw Joanne’s confused expression.
She placed the model on the sheets and pulled at some string attached to the pump thingy.
The blue balloon lungs, which had been a shrivelled mess quickly transformed into small round balls. It didn't stop there, though. The sacs started to swell up even more and soon resembled two footballs. They refused to stop increasing in size, and pretty soon, the two sacs stretched so much that they took up a foot of space at the end of Joanne's bed.
They stared at Amanda, who half-grinned. “Oops! I think this was the faulty pump. I wondered why it was discarded in the bin.”
Joanne rolled her eyes and jumped off the bed.
Poppy leaned out of the curtains. “Now where are you going?”
Joanne had dashed over to her trunk. “Needle.” She pulled one out of an embroidered hanging she was working on and ran back to the faulty model. She took the model off the bed and held it outside the dormitory window, just in case the balloons contained something inside. Holding her breath, she stabbed at the blue mass with the needle.
BANG!
There was the sound of an explosion.
Some sort of smaller sacs that were apparently part of the model fell onto the grounds like floating confetti. Joanne covered her ears, and in doing so, let go of the model. It fell down onto the lawns, where the rest of it suddenly exploded noisily.
Poppy sat on the bed, her palms clamped over her ears. “Amanda, you big trouble.”
“I am not! I was just practicing for Mr Cramer’s next science lesson!”
Joanne pointed towards the door of the dormitory, which was filled with gaping North students. “You big trouble.”
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