Book Read Free

The Rainbow Bridge and the Shadow of the Serpent: The Rainbow Bridge and the Shadow of the Serpent

Page 9

by Sergio Pereira


  The score took up its dance again, without escaping the domain of Igor Stravinsky. The Maestro, the orchestra and Violet had to perform the Rite of Spring close to its epilogue.

  But Providence was on the Maestro’s side. He knew intuitively that the Fairy Queen of Easy Fame had used up all her alternatives for changing the music. He also felt that there would only be one more opportunity. So, waiting for the right moment, he conducted a final leap between the three ballets by Stravinsky.

  It was with mastery that the musicians, under his command, made one more musical leap to an extract from the ballet The Firebird, in which the battle against the diabolical forces of the sorcerer occurs.

  The performance reached its climax. There were many dancing rats representing evil, against one heroic young woman. There was no way she could win.

  Violet was exhausted and sweating. Her fingers and joints were aching. But she would never give up. Everything happened very quickly. Music and movement fused. A tragic end was the most likely scenario for everyone.

  In a sudden movement that demanded great effort, the Choreographer broke free of his bubble. He ran and leapt like a boy towards the stage. He was going to give his life in the place of his former pupil. As soon as his feet touched the stage, he was surrounded by eight dancing rats. The first one received a well-aimed punch that broke one of his rat’s teeth. As a counter-shot, the Choreographer’s fist was cut on impact and began to bleed. There was no more time. He was overwhelmed by the diabolical dancers.

  The Maestro and Violet could do nothing but continue. The game was going in favour of the Fairy Queen of Easy Fame once more: Stefanie was dancing and dancing, trying to free herself of the control of the sorcerer rat. On that stage, no movement not choreographed in the form of classical or modern ballet was allowed. Thus, life and art fused in one single drama. There was no hope.

  But the surprising can always happen and the unexpected can surprise. The Fairy Queen of the Death of Art had a distant look. So distant that she seemed to be conversing with someone who was not there. Ending what was possibly a dialogue with someone, she came out of her trance state and raised her right hand in the direction of the now subjugated, almost dead Choreographer.

  A strong reddish light was seen emitting from the palm of her hand and falling over the Chorographer and the rats who had overcome him with bites on his neck, and on several parts of his seriously injured body.

  There was an explosion. The seven remaining rats were splattered to all sides as if made of nothing.

  The Choreographer appeared from the centre of the stage, also metamorphosed. He was now a huge firebird in flames that burned without causing pain, but consumed everything they touched. He was more than five metres tall and must have weighed the same as a polar bear. His wingspan was about seven metres, the wings moved by extremely strong tendons and muscles, and his claws would lacerate any rat in seconds. His feathers were red from the flames and the Bird’s neck and head had the shape of a bird of prey.

  The Maestro imposed all of his strength on his conducting. From the violinists to the double bass players, passing through the wind instruments and percussion, all transformed into a unique, memorable musical corps. Violet gave the best of herself. She knew that the louder and more emotionally she played, the greater the power of the Firebird would be.

  Onstage, a stylized battle was forming. The Bird opened his wings.

  The rest of the rats, including the sorcerer rat, advanced. In its most apotheotic moment, the story of the Firebird was repeating itself as in the original ballet.

  The Fairy Queen of Easy Fame cursed, pondered. The transmuted Choreographer began to spin on the point of one of his claws. Flashing their enormous teeth, the rats threw themselves against him. In flames, the Firebird burned them one by one, until even the sorcerer rat was consumed. Their foul-smelling ashes were dragged by a sucking vortex to a dimension from which there would be no escape, until all sins were purged.

  The battle was coming to an end. The score dance took place for the last time, now through the free will of the magic piano. The wonderful, exultant ending of happiness of the Firebird ballet was then performed. They were all, including the condemned on that night of the Danse Macabre, freed.

  The Firebird shrank in size and brilliance, while the Choreographer re-appeared and returned to his human form. Violet barely waited for the end of the final chord. She jumped as a tiger cub would jump. She ran from the piano stool to hug Stefanie, who was now freed from the spell and had also returned to being the human Stefanie. They embraced with such affection and joy that that their tiredness vanished. With the hugging over, Stefanie threw herself on the ground in a mixture of pain and happiness. Violet still needed to pour out her emotions. She could not contain herself and ran towards the Maestro. She threw herself at him and hung from his neck.

  - We did it!!!!!!!!

  - Not now, dear. We shall talk later. Congratulations! But not now.

  She didn’t understand the affective distance displayed by the Maestro, who, at that moment, extricated himself from the girl’s embrace. He was still in a state of high alert and very concentrated on the reaction that was bound to come.

  - Get your friend and go over to that corner. Start running as soon as I give the word.

  That was when Violet understood. The Fairy Queen of Easy Fame was beside herself with anger. It was the first time in centuries that she’d lost a challenge. She didn’t like and didn’t know how to lose. Her face was swollen and full of eczema, from which oozed fetid, white pus. Extensive dermatitis had attacked her previously beautiful skin. The sudden disease triggered by an unimaginable attack of anger stung like a burn, as well as itching terribly. This irritated her more than anything ever before.

  While the imprisoned dancers were carried on stretchers by a legion of male nurses who had appeared in several ambulance carriages, the Fairy Queen swelled and swelled. The orchestra stood by at the ready, waiting for who knows what. Suddenly, she roared like thunder.

  - Damn Fairy Queen! Damn you all. You treacherous Fairy of Death. You interfered.

  - And you have overstepped all the limits of reason when it comes to justice.

  - Damn you! Damn you all!! Attack! Annihilate everything! I want the very bones of these two brats and of this Maestro at my feet.

  - I won’t allow it!

  - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Kill them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  It was the scariest war cry ever heard. The order had been given. Hundreds of rats moved forward. But, this time, the Wolf Heads had also received their orders. The battle began, shaking the foundations of the immense theatre made of solidified mist. Each Wolf Head eliminated on average a dozen rats, before he was beaten. It was a bloody scene, with the animal ferocity and fury associated to feelings of hate that only humans can feel.

  The war between the rats and the Wolf Heads led to, in its essence, the motivational fuel of the worst of the two kingdoms: animal and human.

  Violet and Stefanie gave the Maestro and the Choreographer terrified looks. The choreographer responded with a warm smile and waved goodbye. From the Maestro they heard:

  - Until we meet again, my dears. I love you. Until we meet again. Now, run! Run for your lives! Run over the bridge!

  Stefanie was going to say: what bridge? She didn’t have time, because Violet was more than used to the magic of the Kingdom of the Seven Moons and she knew that, if ordered to run, she should run as she’d never done before. The ballerina was pulled by the arm of the Girl with the German Piano.

  In front of them, a bridge made of solid light had appeared from nothing and took them away, far from those macabre domains. They took off with the lightness of youth and the strength of knees not yet worn out with age. They ran a kilometre in three minutes, twenty seconds. They reached the limits of the theatre. The bridge of light had perforated the dense, thick wall of mist. As soon as they had crossed, they found themselves in the forest.

  Inside the theatre th
e confusion simply increased. The Fairy Queen of Easy Fame, concentrating on commanding her rats, did not dare go near the Fairy Queen of the Death of Art. However, she did not stop cursing her with all kinds of insults and swear words of the lowest sort.

  While rats and Wolf Heads were tearing each other to pieces, the Fairy Queen of the Death of Art turned to the Maestro and his orchestra. Maintaining unshaken posture and expression, she announced:

  - Do what you have to do.

  At the Maestro’s command, the stage where the orchestra was moved, floating towards the portal. Consequently, without the need to make any effort, the musicians and the Choreographer went through it, returning to the universe they had come from and heading towards the Train waiting for them at the station.

  The Maestro was the last one through the portal. He stopped in the passage between the two universes and raised his baton. The epic movement from the great, famous musical began. The battle now had, as its soundtrack, the Phantom of the Opera, composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber and based on the novel of the same name by Gaston Leroux.

  What the Maestro had ordered, was happening. Just as the music, performed now without an orchestra, gained strength, the great dome in the roof split. Cracks and more cracks were growing. The structure of the theatre cracked as great trees do dolorously when cut down and condemned to fall in tropical forests. The reflective glass dome, thirty metres in diameter, splintered into multiple crystals and crashed down like the rest of the theatre.

  The Fairy Queen of the Death of Art raised her hands high and another protective dome made of green light appeared over her and her faithful Wolf Heads. Once inside this dome, they disappeared to an unknown dimension, connected to all possible dimensions.

  The Fairy Queen of Easy Fame also used her magic to protect herself. Her magic bed floated off, far away, escaping through an opening in one of the walls. Her rats didn’t have the same luck. Most were left to die.

  So ended another night of concerts, hits and misses in a remote corner of the Kingdom of the Seven Moons. This had definitely not been a normal night.

  CHAPTER XI

  THE KINGDOM OF THE IMPRISONED

  OPERAS

  As soon as Violet and Stefanie reached the end of the bridge, they entered the forest and, feeling safe, turned to look back. The bridge of light was dust and smoke and disappeared into the atmosphere as the dew evaporates at the start of a new day. The gigantic theatre collapsed, making a deafening sound. Seconds later, a cloud of dust was forming, to turn into a mist later, since this had been its raw material.

  - What now? What happened to my friend the Choreographer? And the Maestro? How are we going to save them?

  - Relax, I’m sure they’re fine.

  - How can you know that? All that stuff imploded like an eggshell when someone steps on it.

  - Look, it was the Maestro who told us to run. He always knows what he’s doing.

  - But the theatre collapsed.

  - He always knows what he’s doing. I know they’re fine.

  - Are you sure?

  - Absolutely.

  - How can you be? You really are strange.

  - And you’re my hero. I’ve never seen a ballerina like you. I’ve never seen anybody so brave. Thanks a lot for not leaving me alone to face the Fairy Queen of Easy Fame. I’d never have managed without you.

  - Easy Fame? Since when is fame easy? Everybody struggles to be famous. What’s easy in this life?

  - I don’t know much. But I do know it’s not easy to have a friend like you.

  - There you go again with your enigmas. I’m also very happy to be your friend. I think I’m going to need many, many sessions with my therapist to understand what I felt. - Eighty I reckon.

  - What did you say?

  - Yes, eighty sessions for him to understand, not you. Tell me, how are you going to explain without him admitting you to a mental asylum? Only with eighty sessions.

  - Very funny, ha ha! Now you’re a joker. And so, could madame please be kind enough to explain what all that was? A force that compelled me to dance. Deep feelings and great fear? No, not fear, it was terror that ravaged me. I could actually smell the fear. What was all that?

  - But you had great courage as well, didn’t you?

  - Yes. True enough. But I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never said to anybody. I think…No, I don’t think. Now I know why I want to be a ballerina more than anything else. It’s what I want most in the world. It’s my destiny and I’m sure I don’t dance for myself anymore; I do it for dance itself.

  A tear slid down Violet’s cheek while a smile lit up her face.

  - You’re crying, girl! I open up and you go all emotional. How is it so easy for you to cry and show your emotions like that?

  - It’s because the same thing happens to me. And now I understand one thing that I’ve never grasped before. You know, my father told me once that his teacher told him that the role of music is to take the happiness of heaven to the world. And that’s why a musician has to study a lot, but mainly they have to be happy when they play. This goes for dance and all the arts.

  - For me, dance is everything.

  - It goes for all the arts.

  - Yes, that makes sense.

  - A lot, just as there’s sense in us being here. Don’t you see that we had to meet? - And what about this so-called sense in us being here being so challenging and unpredictable? I don’t like anything surprising in life. I’ve always planned everything.

  - But it’s different when there’s meaning in what’s planned, isn’t it?

  - Hey, who’s the adult here?

  - I heard that from your lips one day.

  - Yes, I know. But where did you learn what you know? That’s a very good thought.

  - I was very lucky that I had someone to learn from.

  The day was dawning like a child full of life and energy. Dawn was vibrating its morning lights, forming an array of colours that went from the orange of sunset to the black of night, hidden in the other corner of the celestial dome. East and west have always always complementary opposites in the sky at dawn and dusk.

  - How lovely. The sky seems to be playing a symphony.

  - Really lovely, the clouds are dancing.

  - Don’t you see? Everything’s connected. I want to do something really good on Earth.

  Stefanie looked at her in admiration. Violet took the map and opened it. The Castle of Occidental Music had moved along the paper. After studying the map again, Violet and Stefanie went back to their journey. The bridge of light had left them near a trail leading to a path that appeared now.

  Violet revealed to Stefanie what she knew about the Fairy Queen of Easy Fame. She also told her about the Fairy Queen of Music and about the war being waged for a long time against the forces of Oppressive Music.

  Stefanie listened but didn’t want to believe any of it. Although she tried to refuse to believe it and take that girl’s words with a pinch of salt, she couldn’t. She had changed. The recent events had transformed her and broadened her mind in such a way that the models she had seen before as absolutes no longer served. Her feelings were churned up like the sea bed after a tsunami, whose origin had been a seaquake. She loved her country and family even more. But a new emotion was invading her being. She saw humanity and all beings united and interdependent. She wanted to do something for the whole.

  - If there’s a fairy for everything, then there should be a Fairy Queen of Dance, too.

  - I’ve never heard of her. But there’s plenty of logic in your reasoning.

  The two of them followed the trail through thick forest.

  The trail was now taking them towards a gigantic mountain range. They reached a river whose source was in the eternal ice of high altitudes. Its crystalline waters ran merrily down the mountain. More or less five hundred metres above sea level, they walked long the bank of the river, which must have been about twenty metres wide. It wasn’t deep and the bottom was covered with rock
s and more rocks.

  Walking along the river, they noticed that the strength of the current altered according to the width and depth. In some stretches, small islands, rapids and waterfalls appeared.

  The ciliary forest protected the quality of the waters and these in turn protected the life quality of the forest. Royal butterflies flew above them and Violet thought immediately of Pedrão.

  Where was Pedrão now, the butterfly who had been part of her far-off childhood? She remembered the quaver, her great friend and protector, Joaquina. Violet also missed the girl she had one day been. It was then that she wished she could stop growing up. Why not be like Peter Pan, the character created by the Scottish writer J.M. Barrie? Being Wendy was much more boring. She’d have to grow up. In her silent reveries, she imagined herself as Narizinho or even Emília, characters created by the Brazilian writer Monteiro Lobato. That way she’d be able to live forever in the enchanted, adventurous Sítio do Pica-pau Amarelo.[2]

  As she walked, her yearning and thoughts began to turn into another category of sentiment. And although she was in paradise, sadness invaded her heart – and she was scarcely able to understand when, how or why.

  Walking side by side, in silence, Violet and Stefanie reached a point where slabs of soapstone lay on the riverbed. The same slabs formed a big waterfall, followed by others, narrower and with smaller cascades.

  Violet was the first to get undressed. Soon both of them were just in their underwear and they carefully entered the water. Violet wasn’t in her usual state. For her part, Stefanie was also feeling strange and didn’t utter a word. The natural thing would be for them to be radiant with happiness. It wasn’t normal for two girls in such a beautiful place not to make the joyful racket that young people usually make when they come across such an incredible waterfall.

 

‹ Prev