The Pink Lemonade Charade

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The Pink Lemonade Charade Page 6

by Cynthia Blair


  Chapter Seven

  “So, Chris, are you having a good time here in Washington?” asked Holly, knowing full well what her best friend’s answer was going to be.

  The two girls had just joined the rest of the Whittington High School students who were piling onto the specially chartered bus. They were all headed for what promised to be one of the highlights of their trip to Washington, D.C. This afternoon, they were going to a dance studio, where they would have the opportunity to watch the Russian visitors rehearse for their gala performance.

  And Chris was at least as excited as everyone else. So far, their trip had been as much fun as she had hoped ... and even more exciting than she had ever dreamed.

  “I’m having a great time!” Chris assured her friend heartily. “Why, I’ve already seen so much. Museums and monuments and of course the White House ...”

  “What about Skip Desmond?” Holly teased. “Have you been seeing much of him?”

  “Hah!” Chris didn’t know whether to laugh or to be indignant. “Fortunately, he’s left me alone during this entire trip. I’m so relieved that he hasn’t been bothering me. I must admit, I’ve been just a little bit worried about him, ever since that day he pushed me and all my books ended up on the floor.”

  “Maybe he’s been too busy learning all about our nation’s government to have any time left over for romance.”

  “Or maybe he’s finally realized that this ‘crush’ you claim he has on me is simply a waste of time. At any rate,” Chris went on, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss the unpleasant subject of Skip Desmond, “I’ve been having the time of my life, running around Washington, sightseeing, and just having fun.”

  “Yes,” Holly went on, a bit more seriously, “but has all this sightseeing helped lift you out of that blue mood you were in a few weeks ago? You haven’t said a word about it, not since that day you had that run-in with Skip.”

  It was true; Chris had been so busy enjoying herself, and thinking about Natasha, too, of course—that she had forgotten all about her concerns about her future. Susan, of course, was already waiting anxiously for the decisions from the admissions committees of the art schools to which she’d applied, telephoning her mother every chance she got to ask if anything had arrived in the mail yet. Chris, too, expected to hear from the colleges she’d applied to any day now. But ever since her arrival in Washington, all that had taken a back seat to everything that was happening to her here and now.

  “As a matter of fact, Holly,” Chris admitted with a chuckle, “I’ve been too busy having fun to give much thought to my plans for after graduation. Although I must admit that one thing has occurred to me....”

  But before she could finish, Ms. Parker announced that the Potomac River would best be seen from the left side of the bus. Chris and Holly immediately scrambled toward the opposite side of the bus, along with just about everyone else. For now at least, the subject of Chris’s future was forgotten.

  It was only a short ride to the dance studio, and it passed quickly as Chris and the others kept their noses pressed to the bus windows, anxious to see everything as they traveled through downtown Washington. They were almost disappointed when the bus finally stopped in front of a huge building, the size of a small warehouse, until they remembered what they had come here for.

  “Boy, I can’t wait to watch this dance rehearsal!” Holly exclaimed as she rushed to climb off the bus.

  “Me, either,” Chris agreed. “I love watching dancers. Every move they make is so graceful.”

  “And I love the way they dress when they’re practicing, too.” Susan, who had been sitting in back with Beth, joined her twin as soon as she got off the bus. As usual, the two of them were dressed so differently that it wasn’t at all apparent that they were identical twins. “They always look so serious about their art, wrapped up in those ragged leg warmers and all, with their hair pulled back into those tight buns.” She sighed wistfully. “Gee, maybe I should try making some sketches of them. I wish I’d thought of bringing along a sketch pad....

  Her twin cast her a warning look. This was no time for that, they both knew. Not today, when the two of them had a much more important mission to carry out. And Susan hardly needed to be reminded of that.

  It was that mission, in fact, that was first and foremost in her mind as the girls filed into the dance studio. And so she tensed up as soon as she and her twin entered the huge empty dance studio, past the receptionist, and saw Mr. Pirov, the “chaperone” who the girls were convinced was really a government agent, a member of the KGB, standing there, his arms folded firmly across his chest, his expression stern. Susan immediately dashed down a side corridor, grabbing her sister’s arm as she did.

  “Sooz! What are you trying to do, stretch out the yarn?” With a frown, Chris smoothed the sleeve of her purple-and-red-striped sweater. “Grandma knitted this sweater for me! It’s one of my favorites!”

  “Christine Pratt, this is no time to be discussing fashion!” Susan whispered hoarsely. She sounded as if she were on the edge of panic. “Did you see what I saw?”

  “Of course I did, Sooz.” Chris sounded as if she had everything under control. “The situation here is exactly what I expected it to be.”

  “Oh, really? You mean you’re not surprised that Mr. Pirov is standing right here in the middle of everything, watching every move we make, listening to every word we say, practically?”

  “Of course I’m not surprised.” Chris did indeed sound perfectly calm. “After all, by this point I’ve already learned that everywhere that Natasha and the other Russian dancers are, Mr. Pirov and his pal Mrs. Korsky are bound to be pretty close behind.”

  “You’ve got a point there.... But what are we going to do, Chris?”

  “What we always do in these sticky situations, Sooz.”

  “Oh, really? And what, may I ask, is that?”

  Chris sounded matter-of-fact. “We’ll outsmart them, of course. Don’t forget,” she added with a confident smile, “there are two of us. That means that two great minds are working on the problem.”

  Susan thought for a moment, and her frown turned to a smile. “I get it. And there are two identical faces to carry out whatever scheme we come up with!” she finished with a chuckle. “Okay, Chris. I’ll go along with whatever you say. Just tell me: What’s the plan?”

  “Okay. It’s pretty straightforward. You create a scene—you know, make a lot of noise, do something you’re not supposed to be doing, anything—to divert everyone’s attention. Meanwhile—”

  “But Chris!” Susan protested. “You know I hate to be the center of attention!”

  Her sister cast her a woeful look. “Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re going to be pretending that you’re me. Just create the kind of commotion that Christine Pratt wouldn’t think twice about creating.”

  Susan thought for a few seconds, then nodded her head. “I’ve got it. If I start feeling shy, I’ll just remind myself that I’m not me, I’m you.”

  “Believe it or not, that makes perfect sense. Besides,” Chris went on, “if you start feeling self-conscious, you can always remind yourself that this is all for a good cause. A very good cause.”

  By that point, Susan felt as if she were ready for anything. “Okay, Chris. I’ve got the first part of the plan down. Then what?”

  “Okay, Sooz. Now, while you’re creating that commotion, and both the chaperones are concentrating on you, I’ll sneak over to Natasha and tell her that I—I mean, we—have decided to help her out.”

  Susan nodded. “Got it. It’s the best kind of plan, Chris, It’s a simple plan.”

  “I know. Now,” Chris mused with a sigh, “if only we could come up with a plan that would actually help Natasha defect!”

  The girls’ opportunity to let Natasha know that they planned to do their very best to help her with her secret—and terribly dangerous—plan came soon enough. A few seconds after Chris and Susan moved apart, not wanting to draw attentio
n to the fact that they were identical twins, the Russian dancers began streaming into the studio, coming in through a wide door at the back.

  At first, the twins were so enthralled by watching them that they forgot all about their mission. After all, there was so much to take in.

  The girls were dressed in leotards, colorful leg warmers, and tights, theatrical getups that immediately created an air of excitement. The boys, meanwhile, wore tights and white T-shirts. All of them looked strong and agile and very graceful.

  As soon as they came in, they headed directly for the wooden barre lining three walls of the dance studio and began stretching. It was amazing to see how easily they contorted their lean muscular torsos and limbs, bending in half and lifting their legs high onto the barre. And every move they made was beautiful, so fluid and controlled that they made the whole thing look simple. Throughout it all, the dancers kept one eye on the mirror, anxious to check their form as they warmed up.

  “Boy, they really are athletes, aren’t they!” breathed Tim. There was real admiration in his voice.

  “I’ll say!” Gary agreed. “Gee, just look at the leg muscles on that guy over there! He makes the guys on the Whittington High School football team look like wimps!”

  When Natasha strode into the dance studio a minute or two later, Chris and Susan exchanged meaningful glances. The graceful young dancer, her head held high and her movement fluid, seemed not to notice the crowd of Whittington High School students sitting on the floor in one corner of the large rehearsal hall. But the twins suspected that she did. After all, when she took her place at the barre, she chose a spot that was right in front of Chris. Once she was involved in her warm-up, she caught her friend’s eye, but only for a fleeting moment. Even so, Chris was certain she knew exactly what Natasha was trying to say to her.

  Susan noticed, too. Suddenly, without even thinking about feeling self-conscious or shy, she sprang up, dashed over to the barre, and took a place next to Katya, Natasha’s friend.

  And then, in her best and her loudest imitation of Chris Pratt at her most boisterous, she cried, “Hey, look at me! I can do this, too!”

  With that, she threw her leg up on the barre in the same manner as Katya, and began imitating the stretching exercises that the professional dancers were doing with such grace and beauty.

  Chris was so stunned by her sister’s outrageous behavior that it took her a few seconds to remember that this was all part of the little plan the two of them had just worked out. But once she did, she didn’t waste another moment.

  As soon as Susan—or Chris, as far as Mr. Pirov and everyone else were concerned—headed toward the Russian dancers, the two chaperones jumped into action. They both hurried over to the bold American girl who had just taken it upon herself to join the Russian ballet troupe.

  “What do you think you are doing?” shouted Mr. Pirov.

  “Get away from there! Go sit down with the others!” insisted Mrs. Korsky, the heavy-set woman at his side.

  Susan, however, kept on, imitating the dancers with exaggerated movements.

  Chris glanced at her twin one more time, just to make sure that the attention of the two chaperones—as well as everyone else in the room, both the American students and the Russian dancers—was upon Susan. And, indeed, everyone was watching her, fascinated even as they were horrified by what she was doing.

  Everyone, that is, except for Natasha. She was looking at Chris, her eyes pleading. Chris stood up and took two steps, which brought her right alongside the pretty, dark-haired dancer.

  “Please?” said Natasha, her big brown eyes open wide. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “We got your note,” Chris said softly. “And we’ll help.”

  At this point, Natasha didn’t seem at all surprised by Chris’s use of the word we. She looked at Susan, then back at Chris. And she broke into a huge grin.

  “You are twins!” Natasha sounded gleeful.

  Chris nodded. “Yes. My sister’s name is Susan. And we’re both going to help you.”

  The Russian girl grew serious once again. “How? What is your plan?”

  “I don’t know yet. But don’t worry; we’ll think of something. We still have two days....”

  Before she could go on, however, Chris noticed that Susan was no longer at the barre carrying on and creating the distraction she needed in order to talk to Natasha. She had been led away by Ms. Parker, then firmly told to sit down with the other Whittington High students.

  Quickly Chris sat down again. As soon as she did, she glanced over at Susan, who by now was also sitting with the group. Her cheeks were a bright shade of pink, but Chris couldn’t tell if that was from embarrassment or from triumph. Quickly she looked over at Mr. Pirov and Mrs. Korsky. They were both scowling.

  But Chris couldn’t have been happier. As a matter of fact, she felt like bursting into song, or at least jumping up and down. After all, she and her twin had just outsmarted the entire Russian security system!

  Now, she thought ruefully, turning her attention back to the dance rehearsal and wondering if she would ever be able to concentrate, if only Sooz and I can keep on doing just that!

  Chapter Eight

  “Well, now, that went pretty smoothly!” Susan exclaimed triumphantly.

  It was Friday night, a few hours after the dancers’ rehearsal and the twins’ success with telling Natasha that they were, indeed, willing to help her out. They were back at the hotel, tired after the long day, but more than a little jubilant about the afternoon’s accomplishment. This was the first chance they’d had to talk out of earshot of their fellow Whittington High students, Russian dancers, and, especially, the “chaperones.”

  “So tell me, Chris,” Susan went on anxiously. “Was I okay? Did I do a good enough job?”

  “Are you kidding? You sure did!” Chris assured her. “Why, you were fantastic! You acted so outrageously that everyone was watching you, including Mr. Pirov and Mrs. Korsky. I had enough time to tell Natasha that we’d decided to help her, and I’m positive that not one person noticed a thing.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Hey, Sooz?”

  “Yes?”

  “You don’t really think I’d ever do anything as outlandish as that, do you? I mean, I know you were pretending you were me and all, and thinking about that was supposed to make you brave enough to do something really crazy, but ...”

  “Of course not! You may be a trifle more adventurous than most girls your age, Chris, but you’re definitely too well-mannered and too levelheaded ever to try a stunt like that.”

  Chris couldn’t help feeling relieved. “I’m glad to hear that, Sooz. I was really beginning to wonder there for a minute. Now,” she went on with a rueful grin, “all I have to worry about is how I’m ever going to live that little scene down!”

  “Don’t worry,” Susan assured her with a chuckle. “Believe me, Chris, once this is all over and done with, and word gets out about how we helped a talented Russian ballerina defect, I have absolutely no doubt that your behavior will be considered truly heroic by everyone who knows you.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Of course! And that’s just the beginning of it. Just think of all the people who are going to read about this in the newspaper. Why, I bet every single paper in the country will pick up this story.”

  “Sooz ...”

  “And then there’s the radio, don’t forget. This is just the kind of thing they love to talk about on those news stations. And then, of course, there’s—”

  “Don’t say it! Not television?” Chris groaned loudly.

  “Is this really going to turn out to be such a big deal, do you think?”

  “Well, of course it will, Chris! I can already see the newspaper headlines.” Susan closed her eyes, swept her hand across the air, and said in a dramatic voice, “ ‘Whittington Girl Helps Russian Ballerina Leap to Freedom!’ Why, it’s guaranteed to be on the front page of every newspaper in the entire count
ry!”

  “Very catchy.” By this point, even Chris was able to laugh. “But you left out one key fact, my dear sister.”

  Puzzled, Susan thought for a few seconds. “What could I possibly have left out, Chris?”

  “That headline will have to read, ‘Whittington Twins Help Russian Ballerina Leap to Freedom!’ After all, you and I are in this together, right? And you deserve half the credit!”

  Chris and Susan spent a few moments basking in the delicious fantasy of all the glory they would receive after this daring escapade that still lay ahead of them had been completed. But then, all of a sudden, Susan grew very serious.

  “Wait a minute, Chris. This may all be well and good, talking about what big celebrities you and I are going to be once this whole thing has been carried out—one hundred percent successfully, of course. But in the meantime, there’s still one minor detail to be worked out.”

  Now it was Chris’s turn to be puzzled. “What’s that, Sooz?”

  “We have yet to figure out what this little plan of ours is! We still haven’t come up with a way to help Natasha get away from those two busybody chaperones who are always following her around!”

  “Oh, yeah; I almost forgot.” Chris immediately grew somber.

  The two girls lapsed into thoughtful silence. Both of them were racking their brains, trying to come up with something. But even as they concentrated as hard as they could, they couldn’t seem to come up with a single idea.

  “Sooz, all of a sudden I’m not so sure about all this.” Chris was now sounding morose. “Maybe I shouldn’t have gone ahead and told Natasha that we’d help her out when we hadn’t even come up with a plan yet.”

  Susan could see how upset her sister was, and she tried to be encouraging.

  “Don’t worry, Chris. We’ll come up with something. Don’t forget; this is only Friday. We still have until tomorrow night—or even Sunday morning, for that matter—to cook up some little scheme. That’s two whole days.”

  “Two days!” Chris groaned loudly. “That doesn’t sound like very much time at all.”

 

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