Black Adagio

by Potocki, Wendy

  The show finished to round after round of heartfelt applause. Drinking in the curtain calls, as soon as she could, she snuck away to change. Not realizing how attached she’d become to the young Mr. Cavanaugh, she wiped away the last bit of the stage make-up, heading out to see Todd’s family. She was curious to meet the woman who had single-handedly introduced two men to the wonderful world of dance. Most times it was a tough sell. Perhaps she’d ask what words she'd used since they must contain a magic spell.

  Walking through the festive rooms, the elegant academy had been transformed by artfully placed holiday decorations. Crossing to the annex, it was where treats and punch had been set out for the audience to enjoy. Staying at the perimeter, young children skipped about, emulating some of the steps they'd just seen. Waving enthusiastically, Todd saw her first. His father turning, the pretty, middle-aged woman standing by his side did also. Her dark blond hair cut short, it curled around her face fringing it with gold. Making her way through the crowd, she smiled as she approached the trio.

  Todd’s hands laced around Missy's tiny waist. Giving her a warm welcome, the older woman's sweet face crinkled into an engaging grin as she extended her hand.

  “Hello, Melissa. I'm Joan. It's so nice to finally meet you.”

  “It’s good to meet you, too. Your husband told me all about you.” She felt comfortable under the woman's gentle gaze. Seeming not to be the high-strung, high-maintenance type, there was a graciousness about her that seemed innate.

  “And he told me all about you. As did my son. Seems you charmed both the men in my life and I can see why. I loved your performance.”

  Waiting for the caveat, it was the part where she criticized her for not being good enough. Surprised that the statement remained as is, Todd gave her a hug.

  “I loved it also,” he concurred.

  “You mean, you could tell which rodent was me?”

  “Of course! You were the most adorable mouse up there. Loved the way your nose twitched,” he averred, touching it with the tip of his finger.

  Basking in the afterglow of the kind comments, his family was so unlike what she was used to. Her mother would have gone on and on. Saying she didn't try hard enough, she would have insinuated that she wasn't good enough to land real roles. Out of the two options, she much preferred this.

  “Are you finished for the year?” Joan asked, taking a small sampling of the punch.

  “Yes, some of us are … except for tomorrow's performance,” she replied, looking away. Remembering what Brandi had said about The Nutcracker, there wasn’t a doubt that the prophesy was true.

  With her role doomed to be cut, tears appeared in the corners of her eyes. While Joan wanted to follow up on what she meant, the odd reaction coupled with the clearing of Todd's throat prevented her.

  “I see,” she responded, not seeing at all. “Well, then why don't you stop by for dinner before you go? I'd love to hear all about your experiences, including learning about Una Velofsky. Up until this year, I only saw her name in books. I never thought she'd end up here in Holybrook. Grant can tell you that I nearly jumped out of my shoes when I heard.”

  “Tis true. She made quite the spectacle of herself ... until our neighbors turned the sprinklers on.”

  A cuff to his arm stopped the teasing in its tracks.

  “Ow!” he cried, rubbing the spot on his arm that was tingling.

  “I hope you know he's joking,” Joan explained.

  “Yes, I became acquainted with his humor on the ride to the school.”

  “Oh, you poor thing! I'm subjected to it every day, but it must have been quite daunting for someone new to it. Surprised you didn't turn around and flee,” she quipped, giving her husband a jovial pat on his back.

  “Nothing could have kept me away,” Melissa responded, her eyes still tearing up from the realization that this was her last week in Holybrook. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

  Todd put down his drink, snatching Melissa by her arm. Knowing that she'd been under a lot of pressure, both from training and what had happened to her roommate, he wasn't sure which was causing her to break down. Wanting to avert a public meltdown, if she was going to cry, it was going to be in his arms.

  “Hey, why don't you and I go outside for a bit of air. There's something I wanted to talk to you about ... privately.”

  Grant raised his drink in the air as if giving a toast. “Well, don't let us stop you. I'm sure there's something we can find to do around here. Like ask the famous Una Velofsky why she cast that robot as Clara. Talk about butter not melting in someone's mouth!”

  Missy was taken aback by the on target comment. She hadn’t been sure that anyone else noticed.

  “Did you really think so?” she inquired, her crying jag put on hold.

  “Notice? Are you kidding? Ice Princess, maybe, but Clara? That would be a definite no.”

  “You can see that despite his meager contact with this lovely art form, he has a good eye,” his wife added. “And I agree with his assessment. All that talent, and they give the role to a technician? I'm surprised that Ms. Velofsky went in that direction. It was her, wasn't it? That chose the cast, I mean.”

  “No, it was Viktor Szelak, the man that played Drosselmeyer.”

  “Well, then he needs glasses,” was Grant's succinct critique.

  “Ditto on that. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

  Whisked away through the crowd, Todd retrieved his jacket as Melissa found hers in the pile of outerwear. Stepping outside, the night air was brisk and invigorating. Holding the promise of snow, it would be the first of the season. Venturing to the end of the porch, Todd jumped up on the railing, Melissa fitting between his open legs.

  “I love your parents,” she said, staring into Todd's deep-set eyes. Shining like embers, she wondered if the glint were the beginnings of love.

  “You do?” he replied jokingly. “Both of them? I mean, my mom, I can understand.”

  “Your father is great and you know it!”

  “I do indeed. One of the best guys around, unlike some other people that shall remain nameless,” he responded. Becoming distant, his thoughts centered on Larabee.

  “So that’s what you wanted to talk to me about? The nameless entity that’s hanging around … somewhere,” she replied, trying to sound mysterious to lighten the mood.

  “Yeah, that. No, I just saw you getting a little choked up in there, and I know how private you are. Didn't think you'd like to have a whole lot of people see you in tears.”

  “Oh,” she said rubbing her temples with circular movements. “Yeah, I guess ballet means something to me alright.”

  “So it's about ballet? And going home? That's the part in the discussion where you started getting misty. Are you afraid of going home?”

  “Yes.”

  In more ways than one, was her silent addendum. She didn’t trust him—not yet. Being nice wasn't enough. And what good would it do to become involved? Going home meant there was no future for them as a couple.

  “Why?” he asked, his face denoting a sincere interest. If it hadn't been there, she wouldn't have bothered to reply.

  “Because I didn't get selected for a solo. It’s how the cuts will be made. The casting was done by Una's right-hand man in this company, Viktor Szelak.”

  “And?”

  “And he hates me.”

  “What? That seems a little hard to believe.”

  “Yeah, well, that's all that everybody says. I'm starting to believe you’re all either a) being nice, or b) wrong.”

  “Look, I haven't seen what you can do, so I can't attest to how talented you are, but this guy hating you? That I do have an opinion on. You're a sweet girl, Missy. Shy and a tad complex, but not worthy of being hated.”

  “Tell that to Zoe and her crew,” she replied bitterly, looking off into the distance. The woods out there, they surrounded the encampment like tall ogres ready to close in and attack. Just waiting for the right moment, she shivered, pulling he
r coat around her. She didn't want anything to do with the forest. One night spent in that place was more than enough.

  “Yeah, well,” he said brushing his eyebrow with his thumb, “I meant to say something about that. Doesn't it make more sense that she hates you because you're good? I mean really good? That kind of hostility doesn't occur in a vacuum. There has to be a reason and the reason often boils down to plain old jealousy.”

  Shaking her head, Melissa gave a derisive huff.

  “You sound like my old teacher Phoebe Leighton. She's the one that got me into this mess. What with filling my head with lies like that. I mean, why can’t it be that people just plain hate me? I don't like everybody I meet. And it's not necessarily because I'm jealous.”

  “I see what you mean, but this is slightly different. If we’re getting all theoretical, I suppose she could have picked on you because you're quiet and thought she could get away with it, but I don't read you that way.”

  “You don't?”

  “No, you seem like a fighter to me. It's why I don't understand why you're giving up before you even know. And, besides, aren't there other companies out there?”

  She shrugged, staring ahead at the dark, old trees.

  “Todd, you're a nice guy and all, but I'm just not ready to go there. Let's just say that financially, my dancing has been a hardship. If I continue in something I don't have a chance in hell of accomplishing, I'm being selfish and unrealistic. It's time for me to grow up and take responsibility for my decisions. That means I can't afford to continue. I just can't.”

  Her black eyes penetrated his heart. She was so young to be talking this way. There was nothing wrong with her wanting to be fiscally responsible, but there were lots of part-time jobs that would bring in money, and allow her flexibility to pursue her dream. There must be something else. An insecurity, perhaps? But arising from what? Certainly not from what she saw when she looked in the mirror.

  “Come here,” he said pulling her to him, and giving her a hug. The tenseness in her body staggering, either she wasn’t that into him or wasn't used to physical contact. Remembering what she'd said about never having a boyfriend, he hadn't thought she was lying, but this behavior confirmed it. Not wanting to be the big, bad wolf at her door, he didn't want her house to fall—he only wanted to be let in.

  “Melissa, no matter what happens between us, I want you to know that I believe in you. I know that what I’m about to say is cliché, but I don’t mean it that way. Anyway, I want you to know, that I'm willing to remain a friend. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

  A small piece of her responded. As her body reacted to Tchaikovsky or any other great composer, it now moved an inch more into Todd's camp. Having issues with trust was never easy. Only time and patience would reveal whether he was running some kind of game, but right now the only thing that mattered was that he was offering his shoulder. Her arms looping around his neck like a bow on a birthday present, she luxuriated in his feel. Beginning to enjoy the time spent alone, he was saying all the right things, and she'd have to have a heart of stone not to respond.

  “Thank you,” she replied, in a small, quiet voice that went with the intimate setting. A million questions rushing past her, one was whether she’d found true love. Her gaze rising, she glanced over his shoulder into the thick woodlands. Her eyes enlarging, she froze. Treated to the same glowing pair of red eyes that she’d seen before, the demonic twin evils were locked upon her. Gasping, she jerked back, intent on getting away.

  “What's the matter? What?” Todd asked. Hopping down, he gripped her arm. An urgency flooding into his mild tone, the face before him was enough to put him on high alert.

  “Over there!” she exclaimed, pointing stiffly towards the woods. Swallowing several times, her breathing became rapid. Her heart beat fluttering, the two dots of red dissipated, gradually dying out as a flame.

  Whirling around, all he saw were the woods. Trees blacked out by the forgotten sun, the crescent moon hung over them like a crooked smile.

  “I don't see anything, Melissa.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re gone,” she murmured.

  Breaking down, she covered her face, crying into bare hands. Todd wrapped his arms around her. Hushing her softly, he comforted her as best he could. Lazily rocking her, he smoothed her silken hair.

  “I'm, I'm sorry,” she murmured in the subdued voice of someone devoid of confidence. He'd heard it enough. Especially from victims who attached more guilt to their actions than to the perpetrators of the actual crime. “I just thought that ...”

  “Thought what?”

  “That I saw something. The same thing I saw the first night we met.”

  “You mean, the pair of eyes?” he asked, bending his knees so he was level with her.

  “Yes, that pair of eyes! I really must be losing it. How can I be imagining things like that?”

  “What makes you think you're imagining it?”

  “Well, they’re not there!”

  “Hey, calm down,” he lulled soothingly. “Just because they're not there now, doesn't mean that they weren't.”

  “Then you believe me?” she asked, unsure of what he was saying.

  “Of course, I believe you. I think some animal is in there scaring the shit out of you. Are you from a rural area?”

  “No,” she said shaking her head.

  “Well, there you go. People from the city aren't used to seeing nocturnal creatures roaming around. Can't tell you how many city folk passing through go ballistic over a little raccoon.”

  “You think it's a raccoon?” she said, scrunching up her face in a tight ball. She still looked beautiful.

  “Yeah, that would be a ‘no’. I told you what I thought. Probably some momma deer scavenging for food. They're protective of their young, and are pretty curious creatures. This school is new so they're probably just feeling it out.”

  “I want to think that, but ...”

  “But what?”

  “Those woods rim the edge of the train station, don’t they?”

  “Yes, the train skirts the perimeter of Holybrook Woods. Why are you ... oh, no! You're not trying to imply they have something to do with Brandi's disappearance, are you? Please say you're not going down that road, again!”

  “I am,” she answered shyly, but firmly. “There's something in there. I can feel it. It's an evil that makes my blood freeze and ...”

  “Melissa! Will you please stop this? You spent the freakin’ night in there. If there were a mad, psychotic killer hiding, don't you think he would have taken advantage of the situation? Believe me, predators can smell when someone's in a vulnerable position, and you were—more so than Brandi. After all, she was conscious and walking around in the daytime. Not to mention at a train station with other people around.”

  “Did she get on the train? Did you ever find out for certain?”

  Exhaling deeply, he ducked his head down, not wanting to answer.

  “Maybe, yes, and maybe, no. We have nobody willing to categorically state that they saw her. All we know is that all tickets were sold, but that it wasn’t at full capacity. Empty seats would point to people being missing.”

  “And what about the ticket she purchased? Where was she going?”

  “We don’t know that either. She paid in cash … as did twenty other people. Just our luck for it to be busier than usual that morning.”

  “I’m starting to think that she didn't get on. She must have gone for a walk near those woods, and gotten grabbed by ...”

  “Enough! You're just going to get yourself into a lather over something you don't even know is true. Number one, we don't know it was her ticket that wasn't used. And number two, people waiting for trains don't go into the woods on Easter egg hunts. It's the wrong time of year, remember? Plus, what would she do with her luggage? She'd have to have someone watch it or ...”

  He stopped, snapping his fingers. He tapped his chin, looking around, lost in thought.

  �
��What? What about her luggage?”

  “Well, if she was on the train, she must have gotten off. Otherwise, it would still be on it. And I don't remember Mr. Shankton mentioning she had any. He gave a really good description, right down to her shoes, which was weird. How many men notice shoes?”

  “Not so weird about the shoes. We’re dancers, remember? People tend to stare at our duck walk. Like the conductor on the train I took here. He noticed.”

  “You’re right. Hadn’t thought about a dancer’s legs attracting attention.”

  “As for the luggage, maybe he didn't think it important. Unless you think that he’s somehow involved in her disappearance.”

  “Mr. Shankton is about 100 years old. I doubt he could pose a threat to her. She could have blown him over by taking a strong breath.”

  “Oh,” she stated, dejected.

  “You're supposed to be happy about that.”

  “Sorry, this whole thing is taking its toll, but the watching thing. I feel it all the time. I'd swear something is out there. And, yes, I mentioned it before. It was one of the things Zoe started on me about.”

  She stopped right there. Not about to say that Brandi had told Zoe, it was too much information. She didn't care that Todd was on her side, revealing that would show she had a motive to get back at Brandi.

  “You know, the more I'm thinking about this, the more I’m convinced that you're right,” he consoled.

  “About?”

  “Something being in the woods. Could be big game moved in.”

  “Like a bear or something?”

  “Exactly like a bear of something. I'll take a little trip through them and see if there are any visible signs.”

  “You're not going to shoot it or anything?”

  “You going to be upset if I say yes?”

  She nodded.

  “Then no. I'll just shoo it away. Better?”

  “Way better,” she said, nestling in his arms, and staring up at the sky.

  Chapter Twenty-one