Moving in, and some interesting items

The door to the Dean of Students' office was as solid as all the others you've seen in this remarkable institution. A rectangular discoloured patch in the dark stained hardwood where a brass plate once hung is the only indication that this used to be one of the most feared doorways in all the school. The lock to the door is stiff, but the heavy brass key turns the bolt smoothly when you put a little muscle into it and you enter the room with a great deal of curiosity.

The heavy curtains block nearly every bit of the afternoon sun, but when you pull the thick velvet drapes back you can see the thick layer of dust that coats every horizontal surface. The windowsill, floor, furniture, and bookshelves that line the walls of the room are all covered with several years worth of grime. This is yet another indication that Ms. Naylor wants nothing to do with you or the board's decision to reinstate this position. She could have at least had the custodial staff air out this office even if your insistence on sleeping in the adjoining chamber caught her by surprise.

The doorway to the rest of the suite is not obvious to the casual observer, in fact if you didn't have a detailed map of the building you might not have looked twice at the panel that slides into a pocket behind the bookcase. The bedchamber adjacent to the office is smaller than the other room, but is still easily big enough for the queen-sized bed with its four-post maple bed frame and matching dresser. This room too has tall, lead-glazed windows just like the office and matching blue drapes that tied back to allow the afternoon light into the room.

A mirror hangs too low in a gilded frame and a basin and water pitcher stand on a small corner table by the window just like the one in your grandmother's bedroom. In spite of the old-fashioned style of the bedroom and antique furnishings the bathroom has had a recent update. It is a most pleasant surprise when you turn on the lights to the bathroom and find the state of the art toilet, white marble counter around the porcelain sink and a glassed off walk-in shower more than big enough for a man your size.

It takes you almost two hours to make the suite of rooms feel like home. First unpacking and ironing your shirts and trousers before hanging them in the closet adjacent to the bathroom. Then with a damp rag you dust every surface in the office including the large oak desk and matching chair, a leather couch that is surprisingly comfortable and finally (which takes by far the longest) the book shelves which hold an eclectic collection. Twenty three consecutive Academy yearbooks from 1983 to 2006 fill one shelf, there is a collection of law books, over fifty history books including the 20 volume Durant History of the World, a complete collection of Shakespeare in delux red-leather bindings, a half-dozen or so Jane Austin novels and finally more than a dozen books in Latin that you can't even begin to read.

As you tidy up the office you find three items of particular interest. The first is the badly tarnished door-plate that identified the office as the Dean of Students, the second is a 12-year old school code of conduct waiting for you in the top right-hand desk draw and most interesting of all, a polished wooden paddle worn smooth from use inscribed with more Latin around the grip.

It takes almost ten minutes to polish the dark patina from the brass plaque, but only a minute or two to screw the gleaming brass plate back into its spot on your door. Your bed is still an unknown, but instead of seeing about getting clean bedding, you decide to spend a little time seeing just what your job was going to entail.

You are sitting at the desk reading the Code of Conduct with interest a few minutes later when you hear a knock on the door.