by Jochen Til
»They … they’re after my fur,« Yeti said fearfully, trying to hide behind me.
»You’re not serious?« I asked Sergei. »What is the meaning of this?«
»What do you mean?« Sergei played innocent. »This is all in her best interests. I’m sure she’ll look halfway presentable just as soon as all that fur is removed. We don’t want to scare our public, do we?«
For the first time since I’d known him, I wondered why I was even friends with Sergei – he was clearly not a kind person.
Yeti started to cry. »But then it would no longer be me,« she sobbed. »I thought this was about dancing, not about my fur. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just to dance.«
»And so you shall,« I said firmly. »And exactly as you are, with your beautiful fur.«
»She will not,« said Sergei. »This is my theater. I still have the say over who may and may not dance on this stage. And even if she truly were the best prima ballerina in the world, that wouldn’t be enough nowadays. To be a star, you need more. More beauty, more charisma, more charm. And less fur, at any rate. I can make her a star. Or she can leave. Either way, she isn’t appearing like that here.«
Yeti sobbed loudly and I stepped angrily toward Sergei. I stopped so close to him that our noses almost touched.
»She will appear here,« I spat at him. »And today, as advertised. And if you don’t let her dance, I will make something of you that you certainly won’t like.« I let my fangs glitter briefly.
»Do you understand what I mean?« I asked. He took one big gulp and nodded wordlessly.
»I see we understand each other. Now beat it, and take your gruesome groomers with you!«
»Yeah, get lost, you nasty man!« shouts Beenie.
»You should have bitten him,« mutters Rhesus.
»What a meanie,« growls Vira. »Poor Yeti. Did she still get to dance? I hope so.«
»Yes, she did,« I say. »But it was a long while before I could persuade her to.«
Then it was time. The theater was almost full; there were only a few empty seats in the upper rows. Again, Yeti’s whole body was trembling with nerves as she pulled on her tutu, which had been specially made for the occasion. She looked like an angel, outshining everything else.
»I can’t go out there,« she said. »I feel sick.«
»That’s perfectly normal,« I replied. »It’s just stage fright.«
»Can’t I just dance offstage?« asked Yeti. »I’m sure the stage would be less frightening if nobody could see me.«
I had to laugh. Yeti did too.
»Come on,« I said, leading her toward the curtain. »You’re ready. You will enchant everyone out there. Just like you enchanted me.«
I pressed a gentle kiss on her furry cheek and signaled to the conductor.
The music began. Yeti took one last deep breath. Then the curtain went up and she stepped slowly toward the center of the stage. You could clearly hear the audience gasp with surprise, while a few people whispered to each other behind their hands. But when Yeti began to dance, you could have heard a pin drop.
What followed was, in my opinion, the best performance by a prima ballerina the world has ever had the fortune to see. Every step, every movement was perfect.
And not just that; Yeti had incorporated a few steps that had never been performed before and never will be again, because nobody else will ever be capable of dancing them. Once she jumped so high that she was able to spin twenty-five times before touching down again. The audience was spellbound throughout her performance, and some people even clapped, which never normally happens at the ballet. But that was nothing compared to the applause that erupted when the last note sounded and Yeti ended her performance with a deep bow. The audience stood and clapped and whooped and cheered enthusiastically for several minutes. Yeti was beaming from ear to ear and had to take sixty-three bows before things died down. But then a male voice rang out from one of the back rows.«
»BOOOO!« somebody shouted. »That’s no Russian ballerina! That’s a hideous monstrosity!«
The voice sounded familiar to me, but I couldn’t place where I’d heard it before.
»BEAT IT, MONSTER!« roared the man.
While I was searching for him, I saw something suddenly fly toward the stage.
The next moment, it hit Yeti on her chest, right over her heart. There was a splatter. A deep red spread over the spot, with drops that seemed to drip in slow motion onto the stage. My delicate nose recognized the smell at once. It was … a rotten tomato!
»Oh, oh, oh!« squeaks Beenie. »Don’t scare me like that, Grandpa! I thought someone had shot poor Yeti!«
»He did that on purpose,« Vira says, laughing. »But I fell for it too. Who on earth takes a rotten tomato to the theater? What a weird thing to do.«
»That was still common in those days,« I explain. »People took rotten food to the theater to throw at the performers if they didn’t like the show. Slimy tomatoes, bad eggs, rotten lettuces, all kinds of things.«
»Yuck,« says Rhesus. »The theater must have smelled pretty gross back then.«
»Yes, it did,« I say.
»Carry on, Grandpa!« demands Beenie. »What did Yeti do then? Did she eat the nasty man?«
»No,« I say with a laugh. »Yeti was a vegetarian.«
I rushed onto the stage. The whole audience was as shocked as I was. All except one.
»Ha-ha!« Laughter rang out from the back rows. »Count yourself lucky it was only a tomato, you repulsive beast!«
I stepped to the edge of the stage and scanned the rows of seats for the miscreant.
»How despicable!« I shouted to him. »To ambush a lady and throw rotten vegetables at her! Show us your face, you coward!«
»I see no lady!« he shouted back. »All that’s standing there is a disgusting monster!«
»The only monster here in this theater is you!« I said. »And you –«
»Thank you, Vlad,« interrupted Yeti. »But let me deal with this myself, please.«
I had expected her to break down after the cowardly attack, but that wasn’t the case.
Determinedly, Yeti stepped forward.
»Ladies and gentlemen,« she said, »I do not have the words to express how happy you’ve made me by coming to see me dance. Your applause and the joy on your faces will make my heart beat faster for a long time to come. This one tomato can do nothing to change that.«
»You’re welcome to another, monster!« shouted the swine.
A second tomato flew toward Yeti. But this time, she caught it out of the air with one hand, sniffed it, and then bit into it heartily.
»Thank you,« she smiled. »I don’t know why you’re throwing them away though. They’re still good.«
Laughter and applause came from the audience.
»You know,« Yeti continued, »it was always my dream to dance on a stage like this. To be applauded surpasses my wildest expectations. And one person shouting and hurling foul insults does not detract from this feeling in any way. Yes, I look different from everybody else. I do not regard my outward appearance as a curse, but as a gift, and I am glad of everyone who sees it the same way.«
»You look like an exploded bedside rug, monster!« the voice rang out from the back.
And yet again I asked myself where I recognized that voice from, but I still couldn’t put my finger on it.
An elegant lady in the front row turned around.
»Kindly shut your mouth, you miserable troll, or else I’ll come back there myself and shut it for you!«
»There’s no need for that, madame!« a man called from the middle of the auditorium. »You stay where you are – we’ll handle it.«
Suddenly, a whole slew of rotten vegetables of all kinds were flung toward the back. I could tell from their silhouettes that everyone around the miscreant had ducked, so that he was the only person still standing. Tomatoes, lettuces, eggs, even root vegetables and melons rained down on him, making him retreat farther and farther, until he fled. A few a
udience members followed him out while the rest applauded and cheered loudly.
»Yippee!« Beenie is thrilled. »Serves that silly man right!«
»Yes,« Vira agrees. »Although the best thing is to just ignore idiots like that and not pay any attention to them. Yeti did the right thing there.«
»Did you ever find out who the guy was?« asks Rhesus. »Did you remember where you knew the voice from?«
»Yes,« I answer. »A few hours later, it became suddenly and life-threateningly clear. But before then, we’d been celebrating Yeti’s great triumph.«
Dusk was already falling by the time Yeti and I left the theater by the back door. We were the last people to depart.
»So?« I asked her. »Where will you go from here? Would you like to apply to other theaters to see if they will hire you?«
»I don’t know,« she answered. »I need to think about it calmly first.«
»Then shall we travel back to London for now?« I suggested. »We could fetch our things from the hotel and take the night train to Calais.«
Yeti took my arm with a smile and we walked together through the backyard.
Just as we reached the other side of the yard, a figure suddenly leapt out from behind a garbage can. It looked very dirty, from top to toe, and there were remnants of vegetables stuck in the crazy, messed-up hair – it was clearly the swine from the theater.
»Ha-ha!« he shouted. »Now I have you at last, miserable vampire! You can’t imagine how pleased I was to recognize you up on the stage earlier! I thought you’d left town long ago! But I should have known you two belonged together! One monster deserves another!«
Now there was no more doubting whom I was facing. »Van Helsing,« I sighed. »What are you doing here? I wouldn’t have had you down as a ballet-lover.«
»Ha-ha! I’m always there, where you least expect me!« he gloated. »And this time you won’t escape! It’s too early to fly. The sun is still up over the houses! You have no chance to escape! The final hour of your diabolical power has struck!«
»Do you know this madman?« Yeti asked me.
»Sadly, yes,« I answered. »He has tried to kill me countless times.«
»How beastly,« said Yeti. »He is clearly extremely unpleasant in every respect.«
He turned to Yeti. »Shut up, monster!« he snapped. »I’ll deal with you in a minute. But you can say farewell to your long-fanged admirer. In a few seconds, he’ll be nothing but ashes.«
He laboriously pulled something out from behind his back. It was a crossbow, but it got caught on his belt and it was quite a while before he managed to free it.
»Ha-ha!« he cried. »Quite a surprise, huh? Thanks to this, I don’t even need to get close to you to kill you! So you won’t be able to bite me!«
»That’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you all this time: Do you actually bite people?« Yeti inquired.
»Only as the very last resort,« I answered. »And only if they’ve bathed recently. This neck, for example, would be far too dirty for me at the moment – I’d catch all kinds of germs.«
Van Helsing reached over his shoulder, behind his back, and pulled out something else – a sharpened wooden stake. He tried to cock the crossbow with it, but the stake kept slipping from his hands and falling to the ground.
»Get in there, you blasted thing,« he whispered to himself.
»If he always takes this long to kill you, no wonder he’s never managed it,« remarked Yeti.
»Yes, he’s not the handiest,« I replied. »Once, he broke almost every bone in his body when he tried to jump on me from a second-floor window and landed on the pavement beside me instead.«
»It was just because I’d miscalculated the wind,« muttered Van Helsing, continuing to struggle with the stake.
On the seventh attempt, he managed it.
»Ha-ha!« he said, pointing the crossbow at me. »Your nightly reign of terror is almost at an end, you wretch! And I will go down in history as the intrepid hero who put a well-deserved end to the infamous Count Dracula!«
I have to admit it: I was feeling a little uneasy now. Although his countless previous attempts to kill me had been in vain, and his failures had always been due to his own ineptitude, even he might get lucky some time. If he should hit my heart with that stake, it would indeed be all over for me.
Without any further warning, Van Helsing pulled the trigger on the crossbow. The stake shot toward me. Suddenly, I was pushed aside and Yeti took my place.
»No, Yeti! Don’t!« I cried in horror, but it was too late.
The sharpened stake hit her in exactly the same place that the tomato had struck a few hours earlier … and simply bounced off her.
»What …? No …! Curses!« Van Helsing said, frantically reaching behind him for another stake.
»Do you know another advantage of being a monster like me?« Yeti asked with a grin, walking slowly toward him. »I have very thick fur.«
Van Helsing continued muttering under his breath and fiddling with the crossbow, but he had no chance. When Yeti reached him, she simply struck him one massive blow from her fist on the top of his head. He immediately crumpled, unconscious.
»Very impressive,« I grinned. »Both your thick fur and your punch. Thank you for the last-minute rescue.«
»Any time,« said Yeti. »Shall I kill him? I’d just have to sit on him briefly and you’d be rid of him forever.«
»Thank you, that’s very kind of you,« I said. »But I fear it would only be a waste of time and effort. I have already killed him fourteen times in the last century, but he keeps turning up again.«
»How curious!« Yeti raised her eyebrows in surprise. »Then he must be some kind of …«
»Undead, yes,« I say. »Admittedly he doesn’t look remotely as decayed as the rest of his kind, and he can still articulate clearly, but all the same, there’s no other explanation for it.«
»Interesting,« remarked Yeti. »So, he’s a monster himself.«
»Yes,« I said. »Yet more proof that those who throw tomatoes are themselves the greatest monsters of all.«
»Sadly true,« agreed Yeti, pointing at Van Helsing. »What shall we do with him now? Shall we just leave him lying here?«
»Oh, just stuff him in the trash can over there,« I suggested. »If we’re lucky, the sanitation department will take him away tomorrow morning.«
»Whoa!« Rhesus bursts out. »Van Helsing’s a zombie! I never knew that.«
»No, very few people do,« I say. »And he’s looking increasingly like one, these days. I last saw him about ten years ago; he’d been lying in wait for me in a cinema, but when he went to ram a stake into my heart from behind, his hand fell off. He hasn’t turned up since then, but you can still expect him at any time.«
»Come on then, stupid zombie!« says Beenie. »I’ll kick you in the knee and make you cry! I can do karate, you know! Hiiii-yah!«
Little Beenie hops to and fro, punching and kicking the air to fill it full of holes. We can’t help but laugh.
»And what happened to Yeti?« Vira asks. »Did she find another theater where they let her dance?«
»No,« I say with a sigh. »Regrettably, she never performed in public again.«
We were sitting in the port of Calais, waiting for the ferry. Yeti barely spoke a word.
»What’s bothering you?« I asked. »You look very thoughtful.«
»I’ve made a decision,« she said. »And it isn’t easy for me to tell you this.«
»Don’t be shy,« I said. »I hope you know that you can tell me anything.«
Yeti looked me earnestly in the eyes. »I’m not coming back to London, Vlad.«
»But … but why not?« I asked.
»You know,« Yeti said, »the performance was truly lovely, magnificent in fact, yet it has shown me one thing very clearly – I’m not interested in the applause or appreciation of all those strangers. I always thought that was important but, as of today, I know that that’s not true. I just want to dance, nothing else. So I�
�m turning my back on the civilized world. I’ll just settle down in a cozy cave in the mountains somewhere.«
»So this is it, then,« I said sadly.
»Yes,« said Yeti. »I’m truly very sorry.«
We finished our coffees and she walked with me to the ferry.
»I wish you every good thing imaginable,« I said. »Please be happy, wherever you are. And dance every day. And when you turn your huge pirouettes, please now and then think back to this day, and to me.«
Yeti wiped an elephant-sized tear from the corner of her eye. »I certainly will,« she said. »And not just now and then.«
I walked onto the ferry and stood by the railing until the port was out of sight.
I’ve haven’t seen Yeti since.
»Oh no!« Beenie sounds quite upset. »That’s so sad! I thought you’d end up getting married and living happily ever after.«
»That wouldn’t work, you doofus,« says Rhesus. »If Grandpa had married Yeti, we wouldn’t exist. Because then he wouldn’t have married Grandma, and she wouldn’t have had Mom, and then we wouldn’t be here at all, because we wouldn’t have been born.«
»You’re the doofus!« Beenie replies. »Grandma could’ve married someone else! Then she’d still have had Mom and we would so still be here!«
»Would not,« says Rhesus. »Because then Grandpa wouldn’t be our grandpa, would he, and we wouldn’t know him.«
»Oh no! I don’t want that!« says Beenie. »I want to know Grandpa! Forever! Because I really, really love him!«
She launches herself at me and flings her arms around me.
»Then it is good that you didn’t marry Yeti,« she says. »Otherwise I couldn’t give you a cuddle.«
»I’m very glad of that too,« I say.
»Did you ever hear anything of Yeti?« asks Vira. »Do you know if she’s still alive?«
»I would like to think so,« I answer. »Two months after we said goodbye, I got a letter from her asking me to send her gramophone to an address in Nepal. So then I bought a few new records too, and sent it all to her. I never heard anything from her after that. All the same, photos of her in the Himalayas turn up in the newspapers from time to time, so that’s why I think she’s doing fine.«