Chapter Seven: Meet The Sisters by Tina Semanas Driving through the northern Ohio farmland in the cool morning of a clear autumn day reminded Duenna Black of a painter’s palette. In between amber fields of freshly harvested corn and wheat crops were patches of hardwood trees erupting in vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. She loved the fall colors -- the beauty of the season matched her buoyant mood. Never before was Duenna Black so hopeful. She couldn't believe it, she was summoned by the official envoy of the Doyenne Conclave to attend an emergency session at the Midwest headquarters. The drive from her home to the the small town of Oberlin where The Sisters met and determined state policy, took a little less than an hour. She knew this meeting could be her last chance to grab the power she always wanted - deep in her gut she knew this was her time! An ancient road sign welcomed all new visitors, “Oberlin: Town and college founded 1833. First to welcome male and female students of all races.” The town boasted of being one of the stop offs of the Underground Railroad, a refuge for runaway African slaves around the time of the horrid scourge in American history known as the Civil War. The Sisters believed this was ideologically the perfect place for establishing a new order of tolerance and justice. They determined that war, a horrid product of the male obsession with conquest, was forever to be eradicated when women ruled the nation. So the The Sisters wielded the iron scepter with strict discipline and ruthless dedication to this united purpose bending every mind to their will. The college in town housed the acting chairman of the Doyenne Conclave, Dr. Simone Gladstone, who also served as Oberlin College’s president. She alone commanded the authority to call together this special session. She alone could decide Conclave directives, And she alone was holding the keys to absolute control. The Sisters all pledged to uphold her final verdicts on man, beast, rebel and patriot, regardless how arbitrary or audacious. She was the keeper of state, the true mother of all. The four other members responded immediately to her urgent call, all leaving their respective colleges to do her bidding. Being one of The Sisters and a selected confident of Dr. Gladstone guaranteed a life of privilege and luxury. Dr. Gladstone was known to have a capricious brilliance, no one really knew the inner-workings of her lively yet dangerous mind. “Icy cold” was how her associates described her, and no wonder. Surviving a childhood with a detached, mentally ill mother, Simone Gladstone learned to survive through instinct and subtle manipulation. She briefly married a man, but he left her to pursue a less restrictive and more fluid sexuality, experimenting with body transformation and polyamorous relationships. She was devastated, and instead of shriveling, she became a sheet of steel, a fearless fighter and pioneer of independent militant feminism. After the death of her wealthy mentor, she inherited an enormous fortune which gave her the ability to leverage people and build coalitions to purchase political control and secure her patron’s loyalty. While the other members of The Sisters succeeded because of their unpolluted feminist ideology, Dr. Simone Gladstone gained power through hate. Money was just a tool she used to spread it. After passing an army of tan rovers and armed Termagant guards, Duenna Black’s glider reached the destination she was given, 87 N. Main Street. Wearing a plain black and gray pantsuit, she was escorted up to the meeting room by a genderless page waiting for her arrival. “This is our college’s Art gallery, but when the Conclave officially begins, they will meet here in the main room. Dr. Gladstone chose this part of the college because she loves the history behind it and the unique style that this building emits. Dr. Gladstone is the one who coined the phrase, ‘Fashion and flare drives female policy more than ideology.’ So she chose this place because it has character and charm that brings a harmonious ethos to such serious state matters. The building was designed by Cass Gilbert himself, the famed early 20th century architect who is credited for also designing the The Supreme Court of the former United States.” Duenna Black noticed the building's colorful exterior, with a red terra cotta tile roof, Corinthian columns, and inside there was a vaulted ceiling with painted panels of animals, fruits and other tasteful pictures. It was truly unique. The page turned to Duenna Black and motioned for her to sit, “The Sisters are currently in a closed door meeting, and after they come out, they and their Vitups have a preliminary interview set up with you. Please wait.” Duenna Black reflected on a poem on the wall while she waited: “Thought is deeper than all speech. Feeling deeper than all thought. Souls to souls can never teach. What unto themselves was taught.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Thank you my dear Sisters for how quickly you answered my call. We have two items we must discuss and then you are free to leave, I won't keep you longer than you need to be here. We are busy ladies.” Dr. Simon Gladstone was outfitted in a sharp trim line androgynous suit of black - her style was impeccable! Her choice of material and cut of the jacket was tailored to accentuate her long and slender limbs. She had no flaw and it added to her image of strength. The other four Sisters flanked her on both sides of a medium length board room table. They were naturally intimidated by her presence and you could taste their fear hanging like a mist in the room. Dr. Gladstone handed out four black folders as she said, “Our first item of business concerns one of us. That is why we are alone here in a closed session. A major breach of protocol has occurred which can upset the balance and mystique of The Sisters. Please read the enclosed information which names one of our current Sisters; the two sources are extremely credible, and the possible damage may hamper our ability to rule withough blow-back.” A silent hush went over the room as the four women of power read the formal accusation. The report stated: “Professor Ruth Finkbiner, President of Wellesley College, member of the Doyenne Conclave for the last 36 years, has violated her oath of ‘fidelity, loyalty and accountability’ to the Sisterhood. Even though she has been a shining example and visionary in many political changes over her tenure, her recent intimate relationship with a rebel of the state and it’s natural born offspring is both reprehensible and counter productive to the aims and goals of The Sisters. Her behavior has compromised her standing among us and forced President Gladstone to initiate proceedings for a possible dismissal from our elite group.” Professor Ruth sat in stunned disbelief. After gathering her composure she said in a very deliberate and calculated tone, “I demand to know who has leveled these charges against me? I have given my heart and soul to see our nation flourish, our ideals dominate, and in my tenure I have seen power change hands from majority men to women. Even Dr. Gladstone, you must admit, that without my guidance and training, your ascension to chairwoman would have been a virtual impossibility? I helped break the glass ceiling, have I not?.” Dr. Gladstone shot up out of her chair, “With all do respect my dear Professor, do not include me with your foolish neglect. Your own daughter rebelled against her placement and went off grid. She would have been a fabulous Duenna and eventually a Professor like yourself, but you were too soft, too lenient! How could you even associate with her after she went dark? And our sources know she has joined The Cave, that notorious Christian Cult which is trying to reverse our progress for women. They are still using ancient reproductive rituals, convincing women that childbirth is something natural, and are teaching that an exclusive heterosexual marriage is the proper design for raising a child! This is everything we hate! And now we know, your own daughter had a live birth! Your own daughter?” Professor Finkbiner hung her head, with her whole body shaking said, “But I love her?” The other members of the Conclave were physically shaken. They were torn between sorrow and rage. They knew Professor Ruth, she boldly championed for political dominance of feminist ideals, but how could she support such blatant disregard for all the progress that was achieved? A live birth? And worst of all joining The Cave? One of the younger members wearing an African headdress and native robe raised her hand, “May I speak Dr. Gladstone?” “Yes Octavia, of course.” Octavia Hulambu, the finest orator of The Sisters and President of Smith College preceded her talk with dramatic hand gestures, pounding her chest, bobbing of her head, “My dear sisters, as a collective we have been betrayed! I for one know my people will not relent on our march to complete freedom, liberty, independence of mind, body and soul for every woman. Even the ones who are lied to and seduced into believing ancient myths. To allow the shackles of female oppression to be reapplied, to regress into barbaric practices, to worship an angry male deity from the dark superstitious past is anathema! I for one will not stand for this! I have one question for sister Ruth, will you distance yourself from this foolish familial love and turn your daughter and her spawn in? Will you prove your loyalty to us by having her cast away?” Professor Ruth sat down silently and took a deep breath looking at the raging woman before her, “No, I will not! She is my daughter, and her baby, not a spawn, is my granddaughter. Do with me as you will.” ------------------------------------------- Dueanna Black was growing anxious. It felt like an eternity waiting for the Conclave to come out and address her. A huge mahogany desk was positioned in the center of the room and she was facing it. Behind it was a large painting expressing feminist ideals, she knew the painting well, it was by the famed artist and hero Romaine Brooks, the masterpiece was "La France Croisse." "Please rise Duenna Black," the page demanded. Out came four impressive women, each with a black robed Vitup by their side. Leading the procession was Dr. Simone Gladstone, Duenna Black never met her before, and she was not disappointed. The page motioned for everyone to sit. Dr. Gladstone started, "Madylyn Black, we have asked you here for a very crucial and urgent purpose. The Conclave would like you to consider joining our ranks. . ." That is all Duenna Black heard before her mind exploded. Was this a dream?
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