..On my walk, I ran into my friend Christine, or rather she nearly ran into me. She was absent-mindedly chatting with her new friends and almost didn't notice me in front of her."Hey, Chris." Oh, Frank!" She stopped suddenly. "Sorry, almost ran into you there. How've you been? Hardly seen you since the semester started."Yeah, because you ran off with your new besties first chance you got. No, I shouldn't be bitter. It's not her fault I'm having a tough time."Uhh, been better, I guess. These lectures are a pain. A lot different than King St. High, right?" I said with a laugh. Trying to come off less agitated than I felt. She didn't respond right away, giggling with the other girls. I doubt she even heard me."Huh? Ah, yeah, it's a pain, huh?" Hey, do you want to maybe - " Yeah yeah, sounds great! Gotta run, Frankie, see you soon!"And off she went. I didn't watch her walk away but I heard her, the whole little group laughing as they trotted off. Probably cracking jokes about the big. The food was delectable, the guests always observed old-fashioned Southern gentiality, and the entertainment was top-notch! In times of tacky and unsophisticated fads, Mason Blanche entertained his guests with performers of the best taste and quality. Blues singers, pianists, and Jazz bands were lined up for the opportunity. There was an element to his parties that disturbed me, though. On any occasion that I glanced up into the third floor from the second floor balcony that overlooked the entertainers, I noticed that all lights were out and all doors were closed. It seemed that if any of his guests wandered up that spiral staircase, whether looking for a toilet or just exploring, he would either be standing at the top or beckoning from below with an important conversation to begin with the brave adventurer, which would invariably end in the library on the first floor. It seemed, however, that I was the only one who noticed this, much less was disturbed by it. A visit to Maison Pines.
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