When the Music Stops

by Paddy Eger

  When the mail arrived today, Marta received a personal letter from Betty and her father:

  Miss Marta,

  Pleze cum to my spring progam. My Dad will pik you up. He says we can git ice cream after. Pleze cum. It’s March 26th.

  Betty and Sam

  Such a sweet invitation. She encouraged all her students to invite her to their programs; Betty was the first to actually do so. Should she go? Of course. Things at the studio continued to be busy and she went home exhausted, but that was no reason to turn down the invitation. She wanted to support Betty and repay Sam Faris for arranging early release times for Paige and Rosalia. Both deserved a favor in repayment. Somewhere she’d find the energy and attend the program.

  At the next kinder class, Marta spoke with Betty. “I’d love to come to your program. What is your class singing?”

  Betty looked at her feet. “A song about a bear with tennis shoes.” She looked up. “It’s a silly song.”

  “Will your mother be there?”

  Betty looked down to her feet again. “No. She’s in heaven.”

  Marta didn’t know what to say. If only the floor could open and swallow her. She wished she could take back all the nasty things she’d thought about Sam’s wife being self-absorbed. Why didn’t anyone tell her that his wife had died? She glanced at Betty’s grandmother, who smiled briefly then whisked Betty down the stairs.

  March 26, Thursday. Marta rushed around deciding what to wear. Nothing matched the current fashion or fit well. How had she let this happen even as she’d cleaned out her closet so many times lately? She selected a floral print skirt and a rose-colored sweater thinking that when Lynne came for a visit this summer, they’d make a day of it and shop in downtown Seattle.

  Marta stood on her porch waiting for Sam and Betty to arrive. With early spring flowers popping up and daylight hours lengthening, Marta enjoyed the funny-faced primroses she’d planted in pots on her steps, reminiscent of Mr. Dunbar’s plantings. Oh, no. She should have invited him to the studio celebration. Her slip up troubled her. Was her forgetfulness from a lack of focus since she’d stopped taking diet pills? Had she taken on too many tasks? Or maybe she wasn’t organized enough to handle things for the studio. Too late to do anything about it now.

  Soon she’d have been home an entire year. Instructing wasn’t anything like dancing, but the planning and helping Paige and Rosalia prepare for upcoming auditions stirred a different happiness inside her. With the recital close at hand, then summer, maybe she’d find her stride by then.

  Sam drove up and waved as Marta hurried to his car. “Hello, Betty, Sam. Thank you for inviting me to the program.” She slipped in next to Betty in the front seat.

  Betty smiled. Sam grinned and nodded as they headed out Kitsap Way to the program.

  “I see you’re all dressed up, Betty,” Marta said. “The flowers on your dress are beautiful. Your hair looks special too.”

  Betty twisted her finger in one of the curls that hung down beside her face. “I know.”

  Sam pulled into the Chico School driveway and followed the line of cars that parked in the field behind the building. As soon as they entered the hallway, Betty broke free of Sam’s hand and raced to her classroom. At the auditorium entry, they followed the crush of parents and relatives to the bleachers, choosing to sit up high to catch a view of the entire space.

  Most of the parents knew Sam, stopping to shake his hand and wait for him to introduce Marta. She smiled and nodded but remained quiet while he spoke with one, then another.

  Seated in the bleachers, Marta laughed. “You know everyone!”

  “I do. My wife worked here. They’ve been helpful since Ginger died.”

  “It must have been encouraging having their support. How long has she been gone?”

  “Three years. She had a massive stroke at the age of twenty-five.” Sam looked away before he spoke. “It’s been hard, but I’ve got Betty. She’s just like her mother.”

  “Betty is a wonderful little girl. She acts shy, but she loves to dance.”

  “It’s fun to watch her twirl around in the living room. We’ve had to move the coffee table to make space for her. Her grandmother says she’s always off in her own world.”

  “Sounds like me when I was her age,” Marta said.

  h

  After the program, Sam drove them to the Silverdale ice cream shop, now crowded with families from school who had the same idea. Marta felt uncomfortable being with Sam and Betty in such a personal way. She noticed stares that averted quickly when she made eye contact. As they left, she felt people watching her back.

  Eating ice cream after a musical performance triggered the memory of her evenings after dancing. She and Steve crowded into the Billings ice cream shop with dance patrons looking for a way to extend their evening. Would images of her time with Steve ever fade?

  Sam finished his sundae and turned to his daughter. “Betty, tell Marta about the book you made in school last week.”

  “My book was about a ballerina,” Betty said. “She had a magic wand, and she made the trees and flowers dance. She turned the stones into raindrops, too.”

  “That’s quite a story,” Marta said. “Did you create a dance to go with that story?”

  Betty took a bite of ice cream, and nodded. “I just did.”

  h

  Sam drove to his home near the school, tucked Betty in bed, and said good night to his mother who lived with them. Marta sat in the living room, watching all the hugs, kisses, drinks of water, and more hugs until Betty disappeared into her bedroom. It was her first time watching a family outside her own. It stirred a new sensation inside her that she couldn’t name but that she enjoyed.

  When Sam drove into Marta’s driveway, he turned off the engine and turned to face her. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Betty was so excited to think you’d come.”

  “I enjoyed it very much. Betty is so sweet.”

  “She thinks the world of you, Marta. She’s always saying, ‘Marta would do this,’ or ‘Marta says we should do that.’”

  Sam patted Marta’s hand as he got out of the car and walked her to her door. He cleared his throat. “Ah, I was wondering…Do you think you’d like to go out for dinner or to a movie some time?”

  Marta pressed her lips together as a rush of heat reached her face. “Maybe.”

  “Good.” Sam backed away. “I’ll see you soon or call you about that dinner. Thanks for coming tonight.”

  Marta stood on her porch and waved as Sam backed out. When he was gone, she walked across the road to sit by the bay. Tonight the light from the waning full moon vibrated on the water’s surface, marking a path straight toward her. Maybe that was why she felt such a tugging from deep inside. Or was it from being with Sam and Betty? Sam had a calming effect on her. His patience as well as his loving ways with Betty reminded her of her father and how he handled day-to-day situations. She looked forward to talking with Sam again, to learn about his hopes, dreams and interests.

  When Marta climbed into bed and closed her eyes, she imagined warm lips pressed against hers. The kisses continued on and on until she woke with a start. Was she kissing Steve or Sam?

  13

  While Paige and Rosalia packed up and prepared to leave for the evening, Marta scanned the audition information chart she made for them. She'd covered everything she could think of based on her personal auditions. She’d taught them short bits of choreography like they’d be expected to commit to memory during their real auditions and shared her suggestions for improving their performances.

  "Tomorrow when you return for the mock audition, please wait downstairs until I call you. I want you to experience the tension you'd feel at a real audition. It's important to be confident regardless of any mistakes you make and to keep a soft smile on your face to show your confidence."

 
Both girls nodded.

  "Who'll be our judges?" Rosalia asked.

  Marta wiggled her finger at the girls and smiled. "Ah, that's a secret. They'll fill out long forms of information about each of you, so prepare to stand and wait. I suggest you call each other and ask questions you think they'll ask to help you prepare." Marta hugged both girls and shooed them from the room. "Now go home, practice your solos, and be here and ready tomorrow evening at 6:50. Do your best and stay confident. Good luck."

  h

  The practice audition judges arrived at 6:30. Lily Rose and Veronica Osbourne, the prospective new instructor, smiled as they hung their coats on the coat rack and seated themselves at the long table beside Lindsay.

  Marta handed out the forms and pens. "When the girls arrive, I'll introduce you formally, then explain the judging system. The girls will go through the first part of the process together, then they'll dance alone and answer questions. Take lots of notes; I'll share your information with them during a future class. We want them to have every advantage possible when they step into real auditions. Also, don’t smile your encouragement to them. The audition judges will keep their faces as neutral as possible. Remain objective and assess each girl using the criteria I've created on the forms."

  Marta called down to the girls, "Please come upstairs, ladies." A sudden memory of her own audition experience flashed through her. She relived the pulsing tension she imagined they felt as they reached the top of the stairs.

  Paige and Rosalia entered the room dressed in black leotards, black practice skirts, pink tights, and pointe shoes. Marta handed them audition numbers to pin onto their leotards. Neither dancer smiled as they moved to stand before the judges in fifth position awaiting directions.

  “Good evening, ladies. I’m Marta Selbryth. Your judges tonight are Mrs. Holland, Mrs. Costello, and Mrs. Osbourne. We’ll begin shortly.”

  The judges started writing, appraising the girls for body proportions, posture, tidiness of their dance costume, and their stage presence. When they completed their assessment, they looked toward Marta and nodded.

  “We’ll be judging you on seven elements including your basic style during barre exercises, your form during floor exercises, your ability to memorize new choreography, your rhythmic sense, how you interpret and perform the group selection together and as a solo, plus how you dance your prepared solo. Please move to the barre to begin warm-ups.”

  Marta watched both girls as they moved to the barre. So far so good. They looked calm, but she noticed Paige’s legs trembling and Rosalia squeezing the barre. Both probably felt as if they’d swallowed jumping beans. That’s how she’d felt. Warm-ups and the center work, both well known procedures, would relax them—hopefully not too much.

  Instead of dancing with them as she usually did during class, Marta directed them by speaking her commands and clapping the beat much like Madame Cosper and other dance company directors did. It provided one more chance for the judges to observe how they handled themselves in an unfamiliar situation. The girls performed without hesitation once they adjusted to the change.

  For the group dance, Marta shared her choreography for Rhapsody in Blue, a flowing choreography to showcase their skills. Both Lily Rose and Lindsay knew the music and choreography, providing them with the background to judge the performances artistically. Veronica represented a fresh perspective since she’d never met the girls or seen the choreography.

  After instruction and two practices, the girls danced together, then performed the selection as solos. Marta relaxed her hands, realizing she was holding them as fists. Both young women continued with strong skills, filling Marta with a confidence that she’d provided useful training they’d take with them as they advanced to real auditions.

  As they danced, she noticed how much Paige reminded her of herself: tentative at times, but also graceful with flowing arms and good finishing detail. Rosalia, technically the better dancer, moved mechanically. Her amazing memory became obvious early on, but her lack of finesse filled Marta with concern. During future practice sessions she’d address the importance of finishing every movement before moving on to the next.

  Marta dismissed the girls to wait downstairs to allow the judges time to complete their forms. In a few minutes she brought them back, one at a time, to perform their individual selections. Rosalia selected her “Sugar Plum” solo; Paige chose her “Dance of the Flutes.” After each girl danced, the judges asked their individual questions, wrote comments, and dismissed them. Poof. Their practice audition ended abruptly just like real ones did; harsh, maybe, but true to form.

  As the girls left the room, Marta refrained from following them to check in with them. After all, this was a mock audition. In real auditions, judges never spoke to the dancers once they left the room.

  Tonight the judges would score the girls and give Lindsay the results to share with Marta. When the girls heard the comments, they’d know what skills to work on to prepare for real auditions coming up between April’s spring vacation and the end of July. Marta would build on their strengths, then work with them to improve sections in their audition that would increase their total scores.

  The mock judges completed their forms, then stayed after to discuss their scores and comments. “It looks like we agreed on their average scores,” Lindsay said. “Paige is more prepared than I anticipated she’d be. With one more year to develop, she’ll be a lot like Marta.”

  “I agree,” said Lily Rose, looking at her notes. “They are both strong dancers. Paige lacks confidence at times, but she’s graceful and finishes each movement before she begins the next.”

  Marta kept her head down, listening to their comments, gauging how to share their thoughts with the girls while maintaining their confidence.

  “Rosalia has great focus,” Veronica said, “and accurate skills, but I wish she’d flow from one step to the next and appear to enjoy what she was doing. Her face is tense and expressionless.”

  “She has amazing strength and agility, but you’re right,” Lindsay said. “I don’t see her passion. Maybe she’s feeling pressure from her mother.”

  “Or she’s nervous,” Veronica said.

  “I’ll work with her on both her flow and her facial expressions,” Marta said. “Her needs will take priority since her upcoming auditions will determine if she’ll receive a professional ballet position this fall.”

  h

  The mock auditions inspired Marta to stay after the others left and work on her recovery exercises and think of how to help the young women improve their chances for garnering a ballet company position. For Paige she’d offer more detailed praise to encourage her self-confidence. She’d also push her to think ahead and to plan her next move before she began the movement. That would eliminate her occasional jerkiness.

  Helping Rosalia took a more delicate approach. Since Zandora pushed her daughter so hard, Marta didn’t want to add to her stress. She’d adjust the speed on the record player to slow down the music in hopes of helping Rosalia relax, anticipate her next move, and soften her facial expressions.

  Relaxing. Marta laughed to herself. Lately she’d been a tense person herself, so maybe she needed to heed her own advice. She adjusted the rotation speed of the record for her practice session and began dancing. Within a few seconds she felt her movements soften and meld together. This tactic would work for both girls.

  While she felt mellow, she decided to place a call to Steve. It was time for her to make a move. The phone rang several times before Mr. Mason answered, “Mason residence.”

  He wasn’t there. Should she leave a message? What could she say? Her plan to stay relaxed disappeared. “No, thank you.” She hung up and leaned against the wall. That was stupid, she thought. Why didn’t she say who she was? What was wrong with her?

  h

  Lindsay called Marta a few days after Marta shared the mock audition scores
with the girls. “Zandora called me yesterday. She’s spitting pins about the judging and wants to know how each judge scored Rosalia. I told her we averaged our scores and she’d get no further details. I’m so glad I took the forms home and burned them. How is Zandora behaving toward you?”

  “More frowns than before, but she hasn’t approached me directly. Mom’s overheard her bad-mouthing my mock audition, saying I favored Paige even though I’ve offered to spend extra time with Rosalia and she flat out turned me down. Paige told me Rosalia is excited about going to a handful of early auditions, all around her spring break.”

  “Oooh. That’s a lot,” Lindsay said. “Traveling to so many cities over so few days puts immense pressure on Rosalia. I’m glad Paige has a year before she decides if she wants to pursue a career.”

  “Paige’s mother will pay the thirty dollars for the Seattle evaluation, but she isn’t certain she’ll get time off work, so I may accompany her. It would be great if I took both girls, but Zandora will undoubtedly want to handle Rosalia’s auditions.”

  h

  March 3. For Marta, returning to auditions in the Olympic Ballroom in Seattle felt like returning to the scene of a crime. True, that audition had gone well and she had become a member of the Intermountain Ballet Company, but her nervousness flooded back as she entered the ballroom corridor with Paige. “Just remember, do your best. Give it all the energy you have, and thank them before you leave.”

  Paige nodded. “Thanks for coming with me. I feel so funny inside. I can’t imagine doing this without your help.”

  Marta pulled Paige into a hug. “It’s been my pleasure. I’ll be in the waiting area. When you finish, they’ll hand your scores to you since you aren’t being considered for a real position. We can look them over on the ferry ride home. Good luck, Paige.”

  As Marta returned to the waiting area, Rosalia and her mother entered. Rosalia smiled and waved. Zandora looked the other way and nudged Rosalia ahead of her to the ballroom corridor. This could be an amazingly long afternoon.