Isabelle did as her mother had instructed, and began to lead me to Rosetta. We talked the whole way down. Well, she talked the whole way down. I could hardly get a word in edgewise! She talked about her lessons with a teacher called Mr. Font and how he was an old coot who didn't understand the difference between honesty and tact.

"Well," she would add embarrassedly, "That's what mommy says." I wanted to ask her more about me and my discovery in the woods, but she would always turn the conversation around in a way so common to children her age that was too confusing for me to follow.

We walked down a spiral staircase, and I noticed pictures hanging on the walls. They were giant portraits of noble looking men and women, with name plates hanging underneath.

"Who are all these people in the pictures?" I asked Isabelle.

"They're the past Principals of the Institute," she replied. "That's my favorite one," she said pointing to a red- haired, stern looking man with a spectacle and a fluffy wool coat on. I read the nameplate.

"Harvey Carrol. Interesting name."

"Yeah, I think he's funny!" Isabelle giggled, and we walked on, still continuing down the long staircase.

We fell silent for a moment. Then a thought came to my mind.

"Isabelle, you said that these people were Principals of the Institute. What exactly is the Institute?" I asked.

"Oh, you know," she sniffed, gesturing in the air, "This is the Institute." I looked around.

"You mean this building?" I continued on the subject.

"Yeah. Well, sorta."

"Sorta?" I pressed. Isabelle shrugged, obviously uninterested in the subject.

"Most of it is the Institute. Some of it is for... well...adults. They do... work." She struggled to explain it to me. Being six and all, her vocabulary was slightly limited.

"Oh, okay. What kind of work do they do?"

"Umm... they do... re...con.... recon-assistance." She finished.

"Do you mean reconnaissance?" I clarified.

"Yeah, that's it!" she hesitated. "Well, that's what mommy says."

The stairs finally ended in a large kitchen. It was empty at the moment, but I could tell that at mealtime, there were probably dozens of workers that labored in this massive food room.

There were at least seven ovens, with plenty of stovetop room, and a gigantic assortment of pots and pans. A walk in freezer dominated the right side of the kitchen, filled with frozen food. The sinks were big enough to wash a baby horse in, but were currently being filled with dirty dishes.

I looked up at the high ceiling and saw, to my surprise, a rack hanging from a chain, with at least a dozen giant pots connected to it. I marveled at how hard it must be to get them down, and thought they looked like they might be some sort of decoration. A chandelier, what have you, for a kitchen-obsessed maid, perhaps? Who knows.

"Nice," I said in amazement. It wasn't possible to take in the whole room at once.

I followed Isabelle across the colossal kitchen to a door on the other side. She knocked on it twice.

"This door leads to Rosetta's house," she told me, "she lives here during the school year so she can make the food for everyone."

"She makes the food all by herself?!"

"No! She has other helpers that live here too, and some student helpers as well."

The door opened and a short, stocky looking red haired woman in a white apron came out. She had a spatula in one hand, and a knife in the other. I preferred the spatula.

She noticed Isabelle and smiled widely, revealing nice white teeth. She turned her attention to me, and the smile faded. Yeah, I know. I get that reaction quite a lot. Maybe I smell bad or something. Most likely it was the dirty clothes I still had on. Or maybe I smelled and looked gross.

"Hello there, Izzy. Who's your friend?" she inquired pleasantly. She had an awesome Irish accent.

"This is Ryan. You know, the Ryan?" Isabelle seemed to think that hanging around me would make her famous by association.

"Ryan Everfrost?" Rosetta gasped. "You're awake? Why didn't anyone tell me! I told them to send you right down here the moment you woke up!" she shook her head in irritation, placing the knife and spatula in her apron pocket, and putting her hands on her hips. "I had a great dinner planned out for when you arrived, because I knew you'd be hungry. And then I would've asked one of my assistance to fetch you some new clothes because I just knew they'd make you wear something nasty like this!" she fingered my black robe and withdrew her hand sharply in disgust. Then she looked me in the face.

"How long have you been awake dear?" she asked tenderly.

"Around two days," I replied, stunned at how much she was fretting over me.

"Two days!" she cried, making me jump. "Two whole days?! Have you eaten anything?" I nodded, utterly taken aback by this strange, yet wonderful woman.

"They gave me something last night. I haven't had anything else." As if to prove this point, my stomach growled loudly. I clutched my mid-section with a sheepish grin.

Rosetta harrumphed violently. For a fleeting moment I feared she might have a heart attack. But instead, she seized my arm with her shockingly muscularly hands and yanked me into her house.

********

Minutes later I was sitting at a humble dining table with a saucy, warm plate of chicken alfredo in front of me, and a basket of breadsticks to my right. Happily I dug in, using a breadstick to move the food around my plate.

The pasta was soft and chewy, and blended perfectly with the creamy white sauce. The chicken was juicy and tender, and perfect. It was an amazing difference to the nasty T.V. dinner the night before.

"Thith ith really good," I mumbled through a mouthful of alfredo. Rosetta promptly served me another spoonful. I happily started on seconds, while little Isabelle sat on the table, swinging her legs and munching on a breadstick.

"You know, pasta is really filling, but it isn't very good for you," Rosetta informed me. "This meal could use something else. Something... fruity." Frowning, she walked into the kitchen and started putting something together. Craning my neck I tried to get a glimpse of what she was doing, but her back was to me. Giving up, I reached for another breadstick.

WHHHHHHRRRRRRRR!!!!! The noise caused me to start, and I dropped the bread onto the floor. Bending over I retrieved it.

"What is that?" I asked Isabelle, straining my voice to be heard over the metallic whirring clamor.

"It's the blender!" she shouted back. I laughed at my stupidity. The noise stopped as the blender was switched off, and Rosetta came back over to us with frothy strawberry and mango smoothies.

"That's one hundred percent fruit." She told me. "A good side to a fat-filled alfredo lunch." I grinned at her with a smoothie mustache, feeling like a little kid. It seemed pretty ridiculous, but that food, with Isabella and Rosetta as company, was the best thing that had happened to me all day.

"It's your tastiest yet Rosetta!" praised Isabelle with a slurp. Rosetta patted Isabelle's hand and pulled up a chair.

"That lunch was amazing," I agreed with a satisfied sigh, setting down the empty cup. Rosetta waived her hand dismissively.

"If I had more warning, I could've given you something better. But it'll have to do. Now," she said business-like, "I believe you have a lot of questions dear boy. And you will be getting your answers, soon enough. But you look like a mess!" she exclaimed bluntly. "Sorry to be frank with you, but I'm sure you would love to freshen up a bit." I swear, this lady can read minds.

"Yeah, I would have to agree with you," I said sourly, "I have no idea when my last shower was." Isabelle snickered, and I shoved her, but not hard enough to hurt.

"Well then, since you'll be staying here for a while now-"

"staying here?" I imterrupted. "You mean, in this house?"

"Why, of course! You were supposed to come here first, but the nurses were afraid to move you because of your state. They had no idea whether or not you were injured internally, and all the hospital beds were full. That's why they were waiting for you to wake up. Then you could stay here, in my home, and recover your wits about you, at least, until a dorm room opened up a spot." she sighed. "But I guess they weren't really paying enough attention to you."

That was about the same thing Mrs. Anderson had said. Dorms and nurses? So this Institute was more like a boarding school, then.

We sat in silence for a while. Then Isabelle excused herself, explaining to us that her mom was probably worried about her. Rosetta told her to give her mom a hug for her. Isabelle skipped away, humming a happy tune.

"Well then Ryan," she said after Isabelle had left, "Shall I show you to your room?"