With excitement and apprehension, I rush down the hall. In my memory, time slows down, and the hall suddenly becomes miles long, with the bishop's chair waiting ominously at the end. I put one foot in front of the other, forcing myself to be brave.
The chair is actually three seats that share two armrests. Miss Mary Lake was the headmaster of a school in this building almost a century ago, and I can imagine young students sitting in this chair outside her office, waiting to see her. I sat down and placed my arm tentatively on the arm rest, not sure if the feel of a disembodied hand on my wrist would be comforting or send me screaming downstairs.
Perhaps sensing my apprehension, Miss Mary Lake stayed away. I waited for what seemed like a very long time, but was really probably only a few minutes. Telling myself it was because I didn't want to miss even a minute of Jim's tour, I jumped up and ran down the hallway without looking back. I feel disappointed and relieved at the same time.
