Dying Wish

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “I’m okay now. I think I just need to eat, go lay down and just veg out. I don’t want to stress myself out any more than what I already am.”

  “I’ve got an urgent job to do tomorrow, but the moment the exam’s over, call me,” Dad says, looks down at his huge steak, and cuts into it.

  Once we’ve all finished dinner, I clear the table, scraping the plates and rinsing them before I stack them in the dishwasher. Mom and Dad are back in the family room, Mom’s sitting on Dad’s lap as they’re watching TV.

  “I’m going to go lay down,” I say as I lean over and give them each a kiss.

  “Night, beautiful. Break a leg tomorrow,” Dad says. Funny how that saying is meant to bring you good luck, but the ultimate disaster for a ballerina would be to actually break her leg. That would guarantee never dancing professionally again, the absolute worst thing to happen to a dancer.

  Walking down the hall I can’t help but smile as I pass frame upon frame of family photos. From every vacation we’ve been on, regardless of the destination and of the time away, there are heaps of photos of Mom, Dad and me. There are even some with Becky when she’d come on a few family vacations with us. Stopping at one in particular, I can’t help but smile at it. It’s from my very first ballet recital, where I’m dressed in a pink tutu with a sparkly tiara on top of my head. I’m in classic ballerina pose, with my feet in first position, and my hands out by my side. As I stare at this incredibly old picture of myself, I can’t help but notice just how youthful I was. Big smile, slicked back hair in a perfect bun and even at such a young age it’s clear just how much I loved ballet.

  While I stand in front of the little blue-eyed girl, remembering my recital, my phone beeps letting me know I have a text message. I smile at the girl with the stars in her eyes, and make a promise to her, “One day, Alice, you’re going to dance at Lincoln Center and everyone will be there for you.” Smiling, I take off down the hall to get my phone which I left on my bed.

  Picking it up there’s a message from Becky. ‘Pick up your damned phone!!!!!’

  I dial her number and lay on my bed. “About time you called me. Did your parents find out?” she starts off the conversation.

  “No, but I got in a lot of trouble with Miss Lauren. I was so tired and flat that she ended up pushing me hard and keeping me late.”

  “She’s always on your case, only ‘cause you’re so good and she knows it. Soooooo. . . .”

  I roll my eyes at Becky, but I’m also smiling because I know exactly what she’s going to say. “How did you like playing with Triple Threats?” I get in first, distracting away from her question.

  “Oh my God, I loved it! I mean, I L.O.V.E.D it. It was so much fun. I rocked it so hard.”

  Laughing at her I nod my head. “Yeah, you rocked it big time. You belong up on the stage.”

  “Hell yeah, I do,” she squeaks in a higher voice. “Wicked J called me today and guess what?”

  “What?”

  “They offered me a job!” she screams.

  For a split second her words don’t register with me and I remain quiet as she talks a thousand miles an hour at me. “Wait, back up a second. What did you say about Triple Threats?”

  Becky is breathing rapidly into the phone but manages to say, “Don’t you listen? Right, today Wicked J called me and said Triple Threats wants to offer me a job. It’s basically being a stand-in guitarist, gigging with them when Jace can’t.”

  “Becky, you’re sixteen, no club or pub is going to allow you into the premises until you’re of legal age. And you still have school, how are you going to do both? Besides, there’s no way your dad will let you go.”

  “Wicked J, whose real name is Jace, said as long as they tell the clubs when they get a gig, and I play by their rules, then there’s no problem with me being in the band. And Dad said as long as my grades don’t fall then he’s okay with me gigging.”

  “Becky,” I say in an exasperated breath. I don’t want her getting hurt in this and being taken advantage of. “You have no experience in this, what if they take advantage of you?” Becky starts laughing on the other end of the phone. “What’s funny?”

  “Jace is married with a kid, Lance is gay, Martin is an accountant during the day and has a girlfriend, and Wade, the singer is also married. So really, there’ll be no taking advantage of me.”

  “That’s not what I meant. How do you know they’ll pay you properly and not try to cut you out of your share?”

  “They want me to come in next weekend to Lance’s garage, where they practice, so we can all talk about it. Why don’t you come with me and if you think something’s not right, you can say so?”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know what to ask? I think you better take your dad. He’s not gonna let you do something which can be detrimental to you.”

  Becky sighs, “Yeah I know, he said he’ll come with me. Come too, that way I won’t get screwed over if there’s three of us there.”

  “If you want me to I will, but I don’t think I’d be useful to you.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, you’d know as much as me. Dad’s coming anyway, but I kinda wanted you there for moral support. Anyway, what happened with Elijah?”

  And there it is, the question I was hoping she wouldn’t ask. “Nothing. We shared a taxi home and that’s it.”

  “Aha, that’s it?” she questions me. Becky’s tone drops and her question is more like an accusation. “That’s so not it.”

  “It is too!” I yell at her.

  “Aha, right. That’s why you just bit my head off, because nothing happened? Or maybe you wanted something to happen but nothing actually happened.”

  “Yeah alright, you can go off on your Becky tangent. But seriously, the cab driver dropped me off first, then him. So nothing happened,” I reiterate to her.

  “Huh,” she huffs into the phone. “And that’s all that happened?”

  I smile. I can never hide anything from Becky. “Well . . . yeah.” My voice cracks and I know she’s picked up on it.

  “You’re lucky I love you, you know that, right? Because you’re lying through your teeth to me. Something happened, and I know something happened, so you may as well tell me now.”

  “He kinda texted me and kinda asked me out on a date.”

  “How does someone ‘kinda’ ask someone out on a date? He either did or he didn’t, it ain’t hard, Alley-cat.”

  “He messaged me and said he liked hanging out with me last night and he’d like to hang out with me again next Saturday night. When I asked him if he was asking me on a date, his reply was if he was asking would I say yes. There was some conversation back and forth, but he went quiet and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “You so have to message him.”

  “I’m not messaging him. If he wants to message me then I’ll reply. If not, then so be it.”

  “Message him.”

  “No way, Becky. If I message him I’ll look like I’m chasing him, and then I look like all the other girls at school who stalk him, and giggle every time he walks past. The ones he ends up having sex with, then dumps. I’m not like them. I’m not like that.”

  “You’re right, you’re not. But in my defense I didn’t say for you to go have sex with him, just message him.”

  “Nope, not gonna happen.”

  “God, you’re so damn stubborn.”

  “You better believe it. If he wants to ask me out, he can. But until he makes his mind up, it’s his loss.”

  Becky woos really loudly into the phone. “Remind me to never get on your bad side. Anyway, I gotta go. Laurie’s coming over to take me to a movie so I gotta get ready for our date. And by movie, I mean the drive-in, and by drive-in, I mean we’re going to have sex.”

  I bring my hand up to my forehead and try to rub away the tension of knowing about Becky’s sex life. “Lalalalalalala, I don’t want to know.”

  “Sure you do, ‘cause when Elijah and you have sex for the first time, t
hen at least you’ll know what you’re in for.”

  Shaking my head, I laugh at Becky’s bizarre, yet I’m sure, accurate assessment of when I first do have sex with whoever it’s going to be. “Night, Becky,” I say while rolling my eyes at her.

  “You know you’re going to . . .” I hang up on her before she can finish saying whatever it is she’s going to say. But I can guarantee it’s got to do with sex.

  I flop down on my bed and look around my room. Mom and Dad made one of the guest rooms into my trophy room but I keep my most treasured pieces here in my room.

  As I look around and see the ribbons and trophies I’ve won, my eyes begin to get really tired and my eyelids close. I fall into a heavy sleep and dream the most intense dreams. Miss Lauren is waiting for me outside the exam room, and she’s pacing back and forth. I run toward her, but I’ve overslept and I’ve no time to do my hair or make up and I’m not even dressed in my ballet costume. “I’m sorry, Miss Lauren,” I say as I get to her. Miss Lauren stops pacing and turns to look at me, her face morphs into zombie and she opens her mouth and all I see is multiple rows of teeth.

  Sitting up in bed, I clutch at my throat while my heavy breathing instantly begins to calm. Looking around my dark room I try and focus on any objects my eyes can latch onto. My alarm clock shines brightly telling me it’s an obscene hour, actually it’s just after four in the morning. Laying back down, I take a few deep breaths so I can restore my body and obviously try to make sense of the crazy dream I just had.

  Soon though, my eyes close and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

  Beep, beep, beep, beep.

  Crap. Opening my eyes, I reach over to the alarm and turn it off just by feeling for the button on the side. The clock shuts up and I’m drearily looking at the red number six staring at me.

  Scrubbing my hand over my face, I try and wake myself by blinking numerous times. I should be nervous for my exam today, but I know I can do it. I’ve worked so hard to get here, and this exam is not going to stop me from getting my advanced levels. I may be one of the younger ones to go for this, but I’m determined and ready.

  “You awake?” Mom asks as she opens my door and peeks her head in.

  “I am,” I respond, but my voice is all croaky from just having woken up.

  “I’ll get you your yogurt ready. What time is Miss Lauren picking you up?”

  “She said she’ll be here at seven-thirty. But knowing Miss Lauren that means she’ll be here at seven. I’m getting up now.”

  “Okay, sweetheart.” Mom leaves and closes the door behind her allowing me time to get up and get ready for my exam.

  “You look beautiful,” Mom says as I come out to the kitchen for my breakfast.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She comes over and lays a kiss on my head, then hugs me. “I’m sorry for not ever being able to do your hair the way it’s supposed to be.” Mom runs her hands down my back in a loving and gentle way after she places my yogurt in front of me on the table.

  “It’s okay, that’s why they invented donut buns. Makes it easier for parents to do hair, and it makes it easier for me when I have class or an exam.”

  Mom smiles then goes and gets her mug from the counter and sits opposite me. “Is your yogurt good?”

  “Really good. Thank you,” I answer between bites. “You okay? You look like you’re sad.”

  She smiles at me, and a tear falls down her face. “I’m just wondering where the time has gone. It was only yesterday you did your first level exam, and today you’re going for your advanced level. You’ll do really well today.”

  “Yeah, but you have to remember, Miss Lauren said most people fail the first time. I’m not expecting to pass, but at least I’ll know what to expect the next time I go.”

  “If you think you’re going to fail, then of course you will.”

  “It’s not that. It’s the fact so many people do fail. People better than me, who’ve been dancing longer than I have.”

  “I see, so what you’re saying is you’ll use your age as the excuse. You can always say you’ve failed because you’re only sixteen, is that right?”

  “No, I’m just trying to be logical about it. If seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds go for this exam and fail, what makes me think I can get it on my first try?”

  “I can tell you what makes you different to those seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds you’re describing.”

  “What’s that?” I eat the last of my breakfast.

  “You have a natural talent. Most people work their entire lives and only achieve half of what you have. You were born to dance, Alice. You were born to be up on stage and to dance around the world. Your ability is so much more than just an ability, it’s a gift. And I know, if you put your mind to it, there’ll be no way you’ll fail this exam.”

  I smile at Mom. She has so much faith in me and my dancing. “Thanks, Mom,” I say as I stand to get my bag because I know Miss Lauren will be here soon.

  “You’ll do well today, just . . . just have fun.” Mom takes my bowl and turns around quickly. I think she’s crying, and just as I start walking over to her I hear Miss Lauren beeping her horn outside. “You’re wrong. She’s not here at seven, she’s here at ten to. I’m not going to wish you luck because I know you’ve got this.” Mom keeps walking toward the kitchen and leaves me to grab my bag.

  Miss Lauren beeps again, and this time I run into the kitchen to find Mom crying while she’s stacking the dishwasher. “Hey, Mom, you okay?” Dropping my bag on the floor, I go over to her and give her a hug.

  “I’m being a silly old woman, nothing more. Just remembering when you were a kid, and now that you’re a young lady, I’m reminiscing about time. Go.” She shoos me away. “Go, and kick some ass.” She steps back and smiles broadly at me. Her raven hair is falling messily over her shoulders as she swipes at the tears clinging to her cheeks. “Here.” She takes twenty dollars out of her jeans pocket, “You may want to eat or drink something when you’re done.” Mom thrusts the twenty into my hand and taps me on the bottom to hurry up and go.

  Running out of the house, it just doesn’t feel right, me leaving Mom with tears in her eyes. I run to the car, open the passenger door and notice how Miss Lauren’s forehead is crinkled together as she stares out the window. “I forgot something, I’ll just be a minute,” I quickly say and close the door before her scowl can burn through every layer of my skin.

  Bolting inside, I go to the kitchen to find Mom leaning up against the breakfast bar gazing blankly out the sun-filled window toward the back yard. “What are you doing back?” Mom asks when she sees me rush into the kitchen.

  “I forgot to give you this,” I respond, throwing myself into her arms. I hold on to her for as long as I can before I know Miss Lauren will get irritated with me. “I love you.” Letting go, I quickly give Mom a kiss on the cheek, and run as fast as I can to get out to the car. Miss Lauren has positioned herself so she’s looking at me, her arms folded in front of her chest and her eyebrows way above the line of her ultra-trendy and most likely expensive sunglasses.

  “Hmmm,” she huffs as she repositions herself and starts the car. “Something was more important than your exam today?” her tone is flat and somewhat angry.

  “I gave Mom a kiss and a hug.” I click my seatbelt on and Miss Lauren pulls out onto the street. “Thank you for taking me today,” I say trying to ease the tension in the car.

  Miss Lauren huffs out a simple, “Aha,” and continues on down the road.

  By the time we’re halfway to the city, anyone can tell we’re not in my home town anymore. The roads are busier and the wider stretches of gorgeous green land become narrow blocks with apartment buildings where many cars whiz past.

  “It’s so busy and we’re only just past the outskirts of town,” I say to Miss Lauren.

  “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”

  I smile because Miss Lauren made a joke. It’s not like her to say anything funny. “Have you ev
er been an examiner at this level?”

  “Yes,” she responds in a monotone.

  “What should I expect?”

  “To fail the first time. Keep your ankles straight. They’re weak and you don’t want to fall. Remember everything I’ve taught you. Keep your back straight and your shoulders back. Remember your hands; make sure they’re always perfect and you may scrape by. I don’t expect you to, considering I know how hard they mark. And I also don’t expect you to pass because you’re still quite young.”

  What a vote of confidence. But better to expect the absolute worst, instead of getting my hopes up and receiving the failing marks.

  “Okay,” I sigh and look out the passenger window.

  “You’ll be fine, Alice. The next time you go, you should pass. Truthfully, I’ll be completely floored if you do pass today.”

  Great—thanks again. “I’ll do my best, Miss Lauren.”

  “That’s all you can really do.”

  “Do you know who the examiner is?” I keep watching the scenery transform slowly into even tighter blocks with more store fronts as we hit the main street, which will take us directly to the studio where the exams are being held.

  “I asked, but they wouldn’t give me the information. They weren’t sure themselves. I’ll have a look when we get there.” That means Miss Lauren will ask them about how I did in the exam. “And yes, before you even ask, I will ask them how you did.” Crap, it’s like she can read my mind. I sneak a look at her and hope she’s not really an alien from another planet who’s using her probing ability to read my mind. A small giggle threatens to spill past my lips, but I hold it back because I don’t want to explain to Miss Lauren how she may have two heads, and four eyes beneath her human exterior.

  “Okay,” I reply again. We stop at a traffic light and I look around the busy street. “I’d really like to move into the city when I’m older.”

  “I had those dreams too. Now, you couldn’t pay me to live in such a busy place.”

  “Really? I thought you’d like it.”