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the only school-aged patient at St. Francis, Marcy posed an education problem. Sister Dana
had done her best to fill the void, but at last conceded her skills were insufficient.
Marcy's mind was too inquisitive. So it was decided that specific subjects, taught by
whomever among the staff would volunteer, should supplement the general tutoring.
Understandably this produced a curriculum rather heavy in psychology and religion. A plea
was therefore made among the patients. And much to Sister Zoe's surprise, the response was
overwhelming. Soon a schedule was worked out wherein Marcy's days (including many of her
evenings) were largely to consist of shuttling from one course to another. The biggest
surprise of all, however, was Julian's proposal to teach the young girl chess.
This change in Julian's attitude, i.e. his willingness to get involved,
was most encouraging. Thus Sister Zoe was disposed to reconsider and to lift her ban.
Pending Marcy's approval, then, it was agreed that Julian's class would
meet twice weekly, on Tuesdays and Fridays from two to three in the afternoon. The
sanitarium's only chess set (plastic pieces and a checkerboard) was promptly commandeered,
whereupon Julian unexpectedly produced his own beautifully hand-carved set. He suggested
that the humbler one be given to his student so she would have the means to study and to
practice.
Unlike most of the other courses—which were to be held in their
instructors' rooms or offices—Julian's was assigned the recreation hall. The nun was
not particularly suspicious of his motives, but thought a modest caution to be well
advised.