overwhelming embrace.
A few older kids, my brother included, grabbed our stuff out of the trunk and led us toward the buildings called the Motels. We followed them into an open courtyard with large birch trees in the center. Around the courtyard were thirteen doorways, each with its own small walkway.
B. J. and I were assigned to Room 12. Apparently the room had been chosen for us, because its refurbishment was the closest to being completed. It was pretty big, about twenty feet square, with two small windows on the back wall. Although the floor was carpeted, it was completely empty.
As I stood looking at the room wondering how this could be a bedroom, someone behind me yelled, “Coming through!” Two older boys, carrying a twin bed frame, followed by two older girls carrying a mattress made their way through the doorway. This was repeated until three twin beds were set up while we were standing there.
Room 12 was connected to Room 11 by a shared sink room and bathroom. Room 11 didn’t even have carpet, just a concrete floor with a single mattress on it. Someone who had been asleep on the mattress suddenly sat up, and I saw that it was my brother’s friend, Teddy, who I had always had a little-girl crush on. Teddy explained that he was sick and running a fever, and that Room 11 was the isolation room. Sick kids stayed there to keep away from healthy kids until they were better, so he told us we should stay out. The room didn’t look very comfortable to me, especially if you were sick, but I figured that they must know what they are doing; after all, this was the Int Ranch.
B. J. and I went back to our room and made our beds. We let Sarah Kitty out of her crate, but she was not happy. She started snarling and hissing, her hair standing on end, scratching at anyone who came near her as she was hiding under the bed.
After we finished making our beds, Justin and Mike gave us a tour of the property. The Ranch was sprawling, covering about five hundred acres of land at the back of the Soboba Indian Reservation in the San Jacinto Hills in Riverside County. They told us they had heard the property had once been a convent, but didn’t know for sure. The main dwelling cluster included the Motels and six or seven other buildings, some small, and one big one spread across five of the acres. There was a small swimming pool in a state of disrepair, with a few dead rodents floating in it. They said they couldn’t use the pool until it got fixed, and they said the same about many of the other buildings as well. The rest of the property was mixture of green trees, dusty desert, and mountains.
The boys showed us the Big House, a very old and soon-to-be gutted two-story house that sat at the top of a hill. On the second floor, it had a few holes in the walls and floors. Even in that condition, the upstairs was being used for dormitories for the young girls. Once the renovations of the Motels were complete, everyone who lived in the Big House was going to move there.
The downstairs of the Big House was the mess hall. For each meal, the food was driven in from the galley at the Int Base, about twenty miles away. The meals were always set up buffet-style, although each kid was assigned to a certain table. Each week, a different child from each table took his or her turn as the steward, responsible for setting the silverware and plates and serving the food and drinks. As it turned out, the food was actually quite good. The meals were hearty and varied, and each day, we got freshly baked bread. Most nights, we even got dessert.
Next, Justin and Mike showed us the School House, which was slated to be renovated soon but currently was being used as storage, so there wasn’t any actual school there. They also took us to see the Cottage, the project that they were currently working on, which consisted of a small building, now completely gutted, that was going to be adult berthing for the Ranch faculty when it was finished.
The Ranch may
Learning to Kill: Stories