Audition (32 page)
Authors: Stasia Ward Kehoe
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Stories in Verse, #Love & Romance, #Performing Arts, #Dance
The college fair concludes
With advisory round tables.
Katia, Anne, and I listen
As one student after another
Describes something she learned,
He liked.
Katia, Anne, and I listen
As one student after another
Describes something she learned,
He liked.
When my turn comes, I babble,
“I thought Swarthmore looked cool.
It has a dance program.”
I catch a trace of chagrin
Beneath Katia’s placid eyes,
Not unlike Tina and Kari
When I told them I was going away.
“I thought Swarthmore looked cool.
It has a dance program.”
I catch a trace of chagrin
Beneath Katia’s placid eyes,
Not unlike Tina and Kari
When I told them I was going away.
As if I was taking Swarthmore from her
When I expressly told my adviser
I wasn’t interested in making these kinds of choices
Anyway.
When I expressly told my adviser
I wasn’t interested in making these kinds of choices
Anyway.
A little angry at Anne
For the relieved expression
When I don’t lay claim to anything Ivy League.
For the relieved expression
When I don’t lay claim to anything Ivy League.
Surprised at the shard of myself
That’s curious
What Swarthmore might really be like.
That’s curious
What Swarthmore might really be like.
“I got the tattoo!”
Bess squeals into the phone.
“Where?”
“Thigh. Chickened out on going higher.
Dad might have killed me!”
Dad might have killed me!”
I giggle aloud
So the others on the bus look up.
College Fair Day made me too late
For a safe ride with Ruby.
So the others on the bus look up.
College Fair Day made me too late
For a safe ride with Ruby.
I don’t tell Bess
About the Upton College Fair.
It seems unfair she couldn’t have come,
Seen all the colleges with music programs, jazz bands.
About the Upton College Fair.
It seems unfair she couldn’t have come,
Seen all the colleges with music programs, jazz bands.
“When are you inking that ballet slipper?”
Bess asks.
Bess asks.
“I don’t know where there’s a tattoo parlor around here,”
I say.
I say.
I can’t explain how Jersey and Remington,
Dancing on cruel cinder-block floors on tour,
Dancing on cruel cinder-block floors on tour,
Too many pairs of worn-out pointe shoes,
Sweat and sleepless nights of confusion
Have left a mark far more indelible
Than any needle could.
Sweat and sleepless nights of confusion
Have left a mark far more indelible
Than any needle could.
They are sending
Lisette, Bonnie, and Madison
To New York City
To audition for summer programs
At the most elite ballet schools.
To New York City
To audition for summer programs
At the most elite ballet schools.
Yevgeny smiles at me gently.
“You’ll grow a lot studying here this summer,
Staying with the Medranos a while longer.”
“You’ll grow a lot studying here this summer,
Staying with the Medranos a while longer.”
When I tell Mom and Dad,
I just say that they’ve asked me to stay
For the summer.
I just say that they’ve asked me to stay
For the summer.
It’s not a lie.
Everyone is thinking of being
Somewhere else.
The Upton crowd dreams of college,
The Jersey Ballet girls dream of bigger cities.
I’ve traveled all this way
To feel like I am staying
In place.
The Upton crowd dreams of college,
The Jersey Ballet girls dream of bigger cities.
I’ve traveled all this way
To feel like I am staying
In place.
A freeze-frame photograph
A poster on a Vermont basement wall
A held pose.
A poster on a Vermont basement wall
A held pose.
I think this as I plié, jeté,
Rond de jambe en l’air,
Grand battement.
Left hand on the barre, then right.
Rond de jambe en l’air,
Grand battement.
Left hand on the barre, then right.
With spring
Has come understanding.
I can read Yevgeny’s subtle hand gestures,
Follow Shannon’s barre combinations with relative ease,
Interpret Señor Medrano’s heavy, accented commands.
Has come understanding.
I can read Yevgeny’s subtle hand gestures,
Follow Shannon’s barre combinations with relative ease,
Interpret Señor Medrano’s heavy, accented commands.
We move to center for a new adagio.
Señor demonstrates with half steps in his worn, black shoes.
Señor demonstrates with half steps in his worn, black shoes.
I try to focus on his directions
Instead of dissecting some uncertain dream,
Some desire
That has yielded me nothing
But second-best heartaches,
Ensemble roles.
Instead of dissecting some uncertain dream,
Some desire
That has yielded me nothing
But second-best heartaches,
Ensemble roles.
I think how Remington would be
Engaged in the dance,
Not planning a moment, a breath
Beyond.
Engaged in the dance,
Not planning a moment, a breath
Beyond.
Press open my eyes, my ears.
Try to be here,
To be now.
Try to be here,
To be now.
April showers pound the road
As Señor Medrano drives home.
I am almost too tired to be afraid
Of his over-quick tugs of the wheel,
The other car headlights’ distorted glares
Through sheets of rain.
Of his over-quick tugs of the wheel,
The other car headlights’ distorted glares
Through sheets of rain.
From the corner of my eye, I see
Señor’s grin.
Today in Variations class
I danced Aurora
Without a stop,
A misstep.
Señor’s grin.
Today in Variations class
I danced Aurora
Without a stop,
A misstep.
Danced to feel her body move
Without wondering what would come next,
Without wondering where I wanted to be
Or whether my wishes were right or wrong
Or ever coming true.
Without wondering what would come next,
Without wondering where I wanted to be
Or whether my wishes were right or wrong
Or ever coming true.
Fourteen delicate forward steps on pointe,
Fourteen genteel yet ever-growing circles of the hands
Fourteen genteel yet ever-growing circles of the hands
Without caring about the next day, the next hour,
The next audition.
The next audition.
The rehearsal schedule turns grueling
Again. In June, we will present
Variations,
Parts of the tour,
And some new dances
In a student concert
For family, friends.
Variations,
Parts of the tour,
And some new dances
In a student concert
For family, friends.
Before that,
The company will perform
Coppélia.
Like
The Nutcracker
,
Another ballet based upon
A macabre Hoffman tale
About a doll come to life.
The company will perform
Coppélia.
Like
The Nutcracker
,
Another ballet based upon
A macabre Hoffman tale
About a doll come to life.
This time, though,
I will join the corps with Lisette, Bonnie, and Madison,
Not be buried amongst the snowflakes of C level dancers.
I will join the corps with Lisette, Bonnie, and Madison,
Not be buried amongst the snowflakes of C level dancers.
We four are invited to join the company class
On Saturdays,
Which no longer leaves time for afternoon interludes
With Remington.
On Saturdays,
Which no longer leaves time for afternoon interludes
With Remington.
He smiles at me
From across the studio.
My knees soften as usual.
I feel a pull in my heart
But can’t quite see the direction.
From across the studio.
My knees soften as usual.
I feel a pull in my heart
But can’t quite see the direction.
At the too-short break
He comes to me.
He comes to me.
“Denardio’s tonight?”
“Okay.” I nod.
When Remington meets me
At the dressing-room door,
My hair is still up,
My dress, rumpled, not replaced by chic jeans, tight top,
My nose shiny.
At the dressing-room door,
My hair is still up,
My dress, rumpled, not replaced by chic jeans, tight top,
My nose shiny.
I don’t understand what
Draws me to his dark eyes.
A marionette
Pulled, like Coppélia, on strings of another’s making.
Draws me to his dark eyes.
A marionette
Pulled, like Coppélia, on strings of another’s making.
But today, I danced
Not in the back row
Not at the end of the line
Not just with girls
So much younger than I.
Not in the back row
Not at the end of the line
Not just with girls
So much younger than I.
Those things I did myself
And I am smiling
As I ride on Remington’s motorcycle.
Arms clenched around his muscled waist,
I squint against the wind pressing into my eyes
As mud spatters up from the road onto my pale pink tights.
As I ride on Remington’s motorcycle.
Arms clenched around his muscled waist,
I squint against the wind pressing into my eyes
As mud spatters up from the road onto my pale pink tights.
The spring air is damp.
The still-bare trees, like awkward young dancers,
Hint at the promise of green,
Of future beauty.
The still-bare trees, like awkward young dancers,
Hint at the promise of green,
Of future beauty.
Mom texts while I’m in bed with Remington.
The urgent buzz
Rouses me from my drowsy stupor.
Rouses me from my drowsy stupor.
“Can’t you get it later?”
Rem kicks the covers.
Rem kicks the covers.
“Just take a second.”
The message wonders what dates I can spare
For some college visits
This summer.
For some college visits
This summer.
“Your mom again?”
His eyes are knowing.
His eyes are knowing.
“She wants me to look at colleges.”
“I want you, too.”
I hold the silver phone in my hand,
Feel its weight,
Sleekness.
It says the time is nine p.m.
“You need to take me back to the Medranos’.”
“Okay, okay.”
Feel its weight,
Sleekness.
It says the time is nine p.m.
“You need to take me back to the Medranos’.”
“Okay, okay.”
Remington stands up
Slides into his jeans
Grabs me before I can reach my dress
Twirls me in his arms.
Slides into his jeans
Grabs me before I can reach my dress
Twirls me in his arms.
“Do an arabesque.
No, the other leg.
Not too high, just forty-five degrees,
Then pull your knee forward.
Can you drop your head down to touch it?”
No, the other leg.
Not too high, just forty-five degrees,
Then pull your knee forward.
Can you drop your head down to touch it?”
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