The Swimmer (A Short Story)

By I.E. Pell

The girls from The Forsythe School are on a holiday because their school needs repairs. They are a lively bunch, but now there is a newcomer among them. Who is this strange girl? Does she mean them harm? It's up to their teachers to protect them, but the girls just might take charge of the situation and handle things their own way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: I.E. Pell
• Release date: Jul 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501465161

Book preview

The Swimmer

(A Short Story)

By I.E. Pell

The Swimmer

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The girls had been trying to drown each other for hours. Mrs. Evans was dozing on and off while Miss Connor read one of those serious, instructive, boring books she preferred, usually a biography of some illustrious, historic female. Periodically Miss Connor would feel it necessary to take a rest from her reading, to turn her eyes for a moment toward the expanse of blue water stretching to the horizon. At this point she would invariably commence to shout at the girls not to go so deep or not to act so much like sea monsters. This would shake Mrs. Evans from the loose grip of sleep that had only just gotten a hold of her. Lying drowsy under the sun, by the softly lapping water could be so delicious when not interrupted by horrid shrieking.

Mrs. Evans and Miss Connor were not alone though. One of the students sat not far from them. Not a peep could be heard from her though.. As little Dora was not allowed in the water, she sulked under a yellow parasol while the other girls frolicked. Glaring at her schoolmates, she was blessedly quiet in her misery as few of her little friends would have been. Throwing an arm over her face, Mrs. Evans thought about how Constance would be by with their lunch in minutes and how much she dreaded trying to coax the girls out of the water though she did look forward to the lunch.

Screeching, more extreme than that heard until now, snapped her out of the lunch awaiting, half-asleep state. It was not Miss Connor this time but Nancy yelling for dear life and thrashing for all she was worth.

Oh, Miss Connor, would you? Mrs. Evans begged as dealing with this sort of hysteria required more energy than she possessed at the moment. That may have been a mistake as Miss Connor added her voice to the general uproar of Nancy and now the other girls yelling in alarm.

Girls! Such behavior! Out of the water, this instant! Miss Connor really was a prodigious shouter. Lungfuls of air expelled with such vigor, if Mrs. Evans wasn't only a foot or two from the source, she might have been able to admire her bellowing as one admires a feat of brute strength.

On Miss Connor's orders, the girls walked out of the water, squabbling, wet chicks, their hair trailing like seaweed from under their caps. Fiona started wringing out her long, blond locks like so much washing.

"Dry off. Hats on.