The Dance (11 page)

Julie was back in seconds. “A few days after the accident, her parents stopped by—they were a mess—but they thought I might understand this. Paulie did stay and talk to me a lot. I'm sorry, Melanie. I know you and Paulie were close. The Highway Patrol had given them Paulie's purse—it was thrown clear of the—the fire.”

Melanie took the note that Julie handed her and shared it with Bryan. He hoped Melanie was all right. Her face was white and the circles under her eyes even darker. The note was handwritten in blue ink, a flowing, feminine style.

Melanie nodded. “That's Paulie's handwriting.”

Bryan read it aloud.
“I divorce myself from the influence of this place. I care nothing for what is here; nor bother myself with judgment. Also, I seek no communication with what might surround me. It is all beyond my eyes; it is all beyond my ears. I am the garden which I tend. I am also its wall.”

“Her parents asked if I thought it was a suicide note,” said Julie. “I told them no way was Paulie suicidal.”

Melanie slowly shook her head in agreement. “But it doesn't make any sense to me. What's this it's stapled to?” She lifted the note.

Hank and Seth moved to look over Bryan's shoulder. “It's two tarot cards,” said Melanie. “The Nine and the Six of Swords.”

“You know the cards?” Seth asked. “Melanie, you're always full of surprises.”

“Paulie and I played with them for a time. It was fun.” Melanie took the cards and the note. Her voice was hoarse, an octave lower, caught by emotion. “This note doesn't surprise me. Paulie was sometimes melodramatic.”

“Do you know what those particular cards mean?” Hank asked.

“The six—that stands for a trip, surmounting difficulties. Remember, she was going to her grandmother's to—to get away. But the reverse, if I remember means unwanted interferences.”

“Leona. And the nine?” Seth prompted.

“The nine …” Melanie paused, holding the card which pictured a figure in bed, her face covered as if crying, nine swords hanging on the wall in the background. “The nine means sadness, quarrels, disappointments. It's appropriate.”

“Maybe the note and the cards were her way of symbolically casting off the troupe and Leona,” Bryan said. “At least for the weekend.”

“Maybe she was thinking on paper, trying to work out something,” Melanie suggested. “I often do that.”

The phone rang. Julie answered, then put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Excuse me for a minute, guys.”

“We have to go, Julie,” Melanie said, standing. “We've taken too much of your evening, and I know you're tired. We'll let ourselves out. Thanks.” She led the way out Julie's front door. “I think that was her friend, and she said he was about to give up on her for being so busy.” Melanie looked at Bryan when she said that. He hugged her, trying to reassure her that he'd never give up on her.

“Let's go eat,” Seth suggested. “We can talk about this.”

“Before we do, will you all indulge me one more stop?” Melanie asked. “Something has been bothering me ever since I met Nicol, and Julie reminding me of her eyes again jogged my memory.”

“If it will only take five minutes,” Seth decided.

“Don't ask any questions yet,” Melanie said, getting into the front seat of the car. “I want to go back to the theater. Actually to the Arbuthnot Shop. I think they're open until six.”

Bryan looked at Melanie and started the car. It was a very quiet but, fortunately, a very short trip.

“We'd better not all go in. But Bryan, will you go with me?” Melanie led the way, practically running. “Hurry. I'm afraid the shop will close. I have to know.”

She took Bryan's hand, tugging him into the shop. The bell jingled, but as before, no one came running.

“What's on your mind, Melanie?” Bryan asked. All he could think of were the swords on the wall, the row of nine swords on the Tarot card.

“Shhh.” Melanie pulled Bryan into the second room of the Arbuthnot, not towards the swords, but towards the portrait.

Together they stood before the painting of the woman in blue—the woman said possessed by devils in 1633. “I was right. I knew I was.” She looked at Bryan, who was also staring. Then their eyes met.

“It's Nicol, isn't it?” Bryan whispered.

Melanie nodded. “The spitting image.”

eleven

And the demon Batraal tempted her, and she was pulled this way and that like a disputed bone until she made her choice.

O
N
S
UNDAY MORNING
Melanie woke and immediately her mind returned to the painting. Bryan's explanation was too easy. He'd said it was a fake. Someone had used Nicol for the model and then doctored the painting so it looked old. Maybe lots of the things in the shop were fakes.

Hank had laughed. “I can believe that Nicol is a witch, all right. But I don't think I can handle thinking she's come back from 1633 to haunt us.”

Everyone had laughed at that idea, so Melanie dropped it.

What
did
she think? She had no idea. But she did think it was a strange coincidence. Maybe she could just flat out ask Nicol. “Did you pose for that picture in the Arbuthnot, Nicol? The one that's supposed to be old?” Or, “Is that your painting in the antique shop, Nicol? Did it belong to some ancient ancestor?” Couldn't Nicol look enough like an ancestor to mistake the woman in the painting for her? But then how many people kept stuff lying around for more than three hundred years?

She pushed herself to a sitting position, tugged off the warm covers, and headed for the shower. Turning the water on as hot as she could stand it, she let the spray pound down, clearing her head, her thinking. One hand searched for her shampoo. She lathered her hair with the lemon-smelling liquid and scrubbed, willing some answers to come to her rather than more and more confusing bits and pieces of this mystery—a mystery, it would seem, she had probably made up.

“Melanie? Melanie, are you in the shower? Guess who just now called?”

Melanie toweled her hair, then wrapped herself in the warm, pink bath sheet. “Bryan?” She stepped back into her bedroom, finding her mother perched on the edge of her unmade bed.

“No, not Bryan. Nicol, that girl from the troupe. She said she wanted to tell you how glad she was you came to the party the other night.
And
, she wanted to remind you that you said you'd go shopping with them this afternoon.”

That's right, Nicol had asked her if she wanted to go into the city, but Melanie hadn't said she would.

Katherine hopped up and practically ran to Melanie's closet. “What can you wear? Oh, I wish we could afford some new clothes for you. I don't have much cash. Do you have any money in your purse? You don't want to let them know how poor we are right now. Maybe you can pretend you don't like anything you see. You can say you just bought a bunch of stuff, or that you're saving all your money for Christmas presents, or something.”

“Mother! Stop writing a script for me. I know how to talk to people. Is she still on the phone? Did you tell her I'd go?”

“Of course I told her you'd go.” Katherine looked at Melanie as if she'd lost her mind to think she'd say no.

“What if I already have plans for this afternoon?” Melanie didn't but she'd hoped she would as soon as she talked to Bryan this morning. She'd call him when she got home. Maybe they could go out tonight. She started to get dressed. What could she wear?

“You don't have plans, do you? If you do, you can cancel them. I was sure you'd want to go.”

Hardly paying attention to her mother's excited chattering, Melanie pulled on black stirrup pants and a soft yellow sweater. She'd wear her dressy boots. They would probably be at an indoor mall.

She took as much moisture from her hair as she could with the towel, then blew it dry the rest of the way. She styled it as she dried, so that it had some body, swirling softly around her shoulders.

“Here's all the money I have.” Katherine had disappeared at some point and now came back into the room with her old black leather purse. She stuffed some bills into Melanie's small shoulder bag. “I'll pay half the heat bill and tell them I'll catch up next time.”

“Mother, I can't spend money you need to pay the utilities.”

“You can't say you don't even have enough to get a snack. You know they'll want to have tea or something. You don't want to be embarrassed.”

No, she didn't want to be embarrassed. But she felt awful taking the last of her mother's cash.

“I should get a job, Mom. I could work on the days I don't have a dance class. And part of the. weekend. Bryan would understand.”

“Bryan? What does he have to do with this? And you can't work and still have the energy to go to school and dance in the ballet. Look at you now, you're half sick. Maybe you should have stayed in bed all day, but you can't miss this opportunity to get to know Madame Leona's friends better.” Katherine started to fuss again.

“Mom, thanks.” Melanie leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Now go fix me some breakfast—lunch would be better. I can't go shopping if I'm starving.”

“Oh, I forgot you hadn't had breakfast.” Katherine practically ran from the room.

Melanie didn't feel hungry, but she knew she had to eat. She put some finishing touches on her makeup, then hesitated over putting on Madame Leona's necklace which was resting on her dresser. Should she wear it? She held it up against the sweater. Sure, why not? It looked dramatic and expensive. It would make her simple outfit look more elegant. She slipped it over her head and went to the kitchen. Blocking out her mother's conversation, she forced down a cheese sandwich and two cups of hot tea with lemon and honey. By the time the last crumb disappeared, she was bursting with energy.

When the doorbell rang, Katherine ran to answer it. Melanie waited in the living room, pretending to watch something on the television, which was always on. Her mother had it on even when she was reading. It was company. For just a second, Melanie wanted to empty her purse, hand the bills to her mother, and say, “You get out of the house. All you do is work, come home, and hide here.”

Her mother would have a heart attack. Melanie smiled at the thought. “Hi, Nicol. Where are Anne and Janell?”

“Waiting in the car. Ready to go?” Nicol was wearing a gray wool coat with a fluffy gray and white fur collar. It framed her face beautifully. She had on boots, too. Expensive black leather fashion boots, reaching to her knees.

You won't let them make you feel like the poor relative, Melanie promised herself. She knew she wouldn't be dressed as well as the trio her mother had called Madame Leona's friends. They worked at the school, teaching the beginners, but did they make enough money doing that to dress like they did? And to furnish that apartment even if Leona paid the rent? Melanie knew she couldn't ask, but she wondered. Maybe they were all three from rich families. They had huge allowances they lived on until they inherited fortunes.

“Hi, Anne. Hi, Janell,” Melanie said, as she slid into the front seat of the new silver-gray Honda Nicol was driving. The two girls were seated in the back, leaving the front passenger seat for Melanie.

“Hi, Mel,” they said together. “Glad you came along.”

“I can't imagine staying home on Sunday afternoon.” Anne smiled. “Were you going to study?”

“I am so glad to be out of school,” Janell added, pulling her imitation leopard coat closer until the heater took out the chill Melanie and Nicol had let in.

“It's winter break, so no studying,” Melanie answered. “I hoped Bryan might call. We usually do something on Sunday.”

They laughed and chattered as Nicol found the thruway. Melanie let Anne and Janell lead the conversation. But when Nicol pulled into traffic smoothly, she said, “Where are we going?”

“The city. Where else?” Nicol smiled, then turned back to her driving.

“You are ours, Melanie.” Janell laughed.

“What?”

“For the day, she means.” Nicol's smile turned into a grin.

“I just love New York City at Christmas time, don't you, Melanie?” Anne said. “It's so festive.”

“I—I've never been there at Christmas.” Melanie thought the city had meant Bellponte. And she didn't want to admit she seldom went to New York City. She and her mother had talked about taking the train in, but they hadn't done it. Bryan kept saying he'd take her, but they didn't have time. He had promised they'd make the trip during the winter break.

A part of Melanie regretted not having this experience with Bryan. Another side argued that it didn't matter. She'd enjoy the trip with Bryan just as much. It would be different from going with three girls.

“What fun! We can show it to you.” Nicol got them there in less than an hour. She obviously knew her way around the narrow streets and huge buildings. Melanie held back from craning her neck so she could see everything. She rarely saw buildings this tall. She sure didn't want to act like a country hick.

Nicol, Anne, and Janell sailed in and out of the huge department stores, where carols filled the air, propelling Melanie along with them. She let herself be led, realizing she wouldn't even know what to suggest if anyone said, “Where shall we go next?”

Bergdorf's, Lord & Taylor, Macy's—they hit all the places she'd heard of but never dreamed she'd go to shop. Christmas shoppers jammed the stores, but Melanie didn't mind. It just made the atmosphere more exciting.

“Let's get new party dresses,” said Anne, leading the way to the holiday fashions when they were in Saks.

Melanie
was
on holiday. She didn't need a new dress, but she got caught up in the excitement of trying them on. The sales women treated the four girls like they were debutantes, bringing them accessories to match the dresses they slipped in and out of.