Chapter 8 – Worshipping Reflection
“Do none of my hunters have a trophy to offer me?”
Lady Finch peeked through the Palace’s purple curtain as Satinka addressed her hunters from atop the center stage. She thought she had ample reason to be very happy after counting all the shiners Satinka had attracted into the Crystal Palace those nights when the buffalo raged about the city and the river’s shores. Yet she felt a melancholy that was deeper than any she had known. Her cherished Palace felt like a funeral parlor. The men seated at her tables were quiet, and they didn’t lift their eyes up from their drinks to gaze, longingly, at Satinka’s shape. Lady Finch wondered what would become of those men. She guessed only a few dozen of the buffalo remained, and Lady Fink suspected those surviving stragglers would be wiped out after those hunters completed another day chasing the buffalo hides. Those men had first served as polishers. Then, they had come to her Palace to stare at the girls who danced on the stages, to yearn for a thrilling touch if they were brave. Then, they had given what shiners they could spare for the pleasure of dreaming a magic might exist to spare them from such tepid lives as those the tower polishers knew.
And then the dust had delivered Satinka to the Palace. Her shape had instantly claimed whatever shiner the polisher possessed. Her figure and her sway had filled those men with fight. Her curves and swells had heated the male blood like no other Palace girl ever had. She had danced such miraculous steps, and her rhythm had lifted the herd up from the dusty earth, and all those buffalo had transformed those sullen polishers into passionate hunters. Lady Finch realized those men at the tables were changed, and she doubted they might ever return to their duties as polishers of the city’s glass spires. Lady Finch wondered if that pile of shiners Satinka had brought to the Palace would be enough when the hearts of those men no longer craved the comfort offered beyond her doors.
“Does no one have a trophy for me?”
The men remained silent as they sipped at their drinks.
Satinka smiled softly. “I know that the last of the buffalo are gone. The time has come for me to follow that herd.”
Lady Finch sighed. None of the men grumbled or sobbed. They only stared at their scarred hands resting upon the tables. They lacked the desire, or the courage, to look one last time at Satinka.
Satinka pulled the folds of her buffalo hides around her body. “Have all of you lost so much heart? Is so much of that spirit you felt while hunting the herd vanished? Has your blood turned so cold? You show the buffalo much honor in mourning for their extinction, but your drinks will not forever taste sour. I will not abandon you. You’ll only need to look into your towers’ reflection to see me.”
The Palace remained silent as Satinka retreated off of the stage and passed through the purple curtain. Lady Finch didn’t bother to call another girl to the stage, knowing it was best to let that stage remain empty. She knew the men had no appetite to watch as another girl danced. Sighing, Lady Finch turned her attention away from those men beyond her purple curtain and joined Satinka before one of the dressing room’s mirrors.
“That’s it?” Lady Finch asked as Satinka stepped into the same sundress she had worn on the afternoon the dust had delivered her to the Crystal Palace. “You’re not going to dance tonight? After those men hunted down every buffalo for you, after they’ve given you so many trophies, you’re not going to help them with their sorrow by dancing? You’re not going to try to give them a reason to smile? I would have never let you step on any of my stages had I known you would be so cruel in the end.”
Satinka shrugged. “Have I not given you, and your palace, and your girls more wealth than any of you ever anticipated?”
“You have, but what about tomorrow? All the shiners in the world cannot hold off our tomorrows. I’ve never seen men so broken. Who will now come to the Palace to watch the girls dance? How will I afford to keep my marquee glowing before my door?”
“Their hearts will return,” Satinka responded. “You’ll see.”
Lady Finch frowned. There was no denying that Satinka had made her and all of her dancers very wealthy. Only, Lady Finch still felt something had been lost.
“Have you gotten everything you wanted out of the stage? Those men worship you, Satinka, but you’re about to walk back into the dust and disappear back to wherever it was you came from. I thought you were going to find a way to live forever.”
Satinka gathered what she could into a pink duffle bag and strode to the dressing chamber’s back door. “I’ll live forever. You’ll see. My shape will live for as long as those glistening towers stand.”
Satinka opened the door, and a rush of wind delivered a new layer of dust onto the dressing room floor. Lady Finch grabbed a broom and gathered the soot into a pile. But she did not toss that ash back out the door, instead staring for many moments at that grimy pile. Even the dust seemed changed.
Polish, Dust and Sparkle Page 12