Audition (27 page)
Authors: Stasia Ward Kehoe
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Stories in Verse, #Love & Romance, #Performing Arts, #Dance
A new semester
Has begun at Upton.
Anne sits in the middle
Of the brown couch in the student lounge,
Wearing a new burgundy blazer,
With shimmering dark-red fringe around the collar,
A sharp, narrow cut.
Anne sits in the middle
Of the brown couch in the student lounge,
Wearing a new burgundy blazer,
With shimmering dark-red fringe around the collar,
A sharp, narrow cut.
Katia and I are on either side,
Wearing the same things we wore before,
Waiting for the school day to begin.
Wearing the same things we wore before,
Waiting for the school day to begin.
I try to listen to the gossip
About Ruby and Adnan,
About the plans for the spring dance,
About the biology teacher who is divorcing his wife.
About Ruby and Adnan,
About the plans for the spring dance,
About the biology teacher who is divorcing his wife.
But my shins ache,
I have a giant blister on my pinkie toe:
Rewards for working harder.
I have a giant blister on my pinkie toe:
Rewards for working harder.
We’re back to tour rehearsals tonight.
I am still Mama Bear
For the spring tour.
And Rem is still my Papa Bear.
And Rem is still my Papa Bear.
We fall back into our bumbling pas de deux
As easily as I fall back
Into his bed,
Though afterwards I often lie awake,
Memorize the curves and intersections
Of the cracks in the ceiling.
Search futilely for some pattern, some word,
Some way to understand
As easily as I fall back
Into his bed,
Though afterwards I often lie awake,
Memorize the curves and intersections
Of the cracks in the ceiling.
Search futilely for some pattern, some word,
Some way to understand
Why he gives the dances he makes on me
Away to Lisette—
Why this is all right—
Away to Lisette—
Why this is all right—
While I wait for him to take me back
To my other, ugly bed
In Señor Medrano’s house,
Which has begun to grow
A bit more attractive.
To my other, ugly bed
In Señor Medrano’s house,
Which has begun to grow
A bit more attractive.
Are habits as hard to break
As routines are to begin?
This is the question I write
In my essay about reality
For Professor O’Malley.
As routines are to begin?
This is the question I write
In my essay about reality
For Professor O’Malley.
(Not the story of falling back into bed with Rem,
But of my oft-failed promises to get to class early,
Stay at the studio late,
Work, like Lisette, on every weak movement,
Imperfect step.)
But of my oft-failed promises to get to class early,
Stay at the studio late,
Work, like Lisette, on every weak movement,
Imperfect step.)
Is the sound of the war bombs,
Like the ones echoing in the distance beyond
Heartbreak House
,
Just easier to get used to
Than to recognize?
Like the ones echoing in the distance beyond
Heartbreak House
,
Just easier to get used to
Than to recognize?
Is self-delusion turned-out feet?
A way we’re accustomed to stand?
Identity simply the place in the line
To which we’ve been assigned
By some tradition, some chance,
Someone?
A way we’re accustomed to stand?
Identity simply the place in the line
To which we’ve been assigned
By some tradition, some chance,
Someone?
Perhaps the trick about reality
Is as much rejecting the old place,
The old step,
The old bed,
As seeing in the mirror
Something different.
Is as much rejecting the old place,
The old step,
The old bed,
As seeing in the mirror
Something different.
Katia and Anne are practicing
For the Upton talent show.
I try not to laugh as I watch
Their scuffling tap dance,
Imprecise arms.
I try not to laugh as I watch
Their scuffling tap dance,
Imprecise arms.
“You should dance that Aurora thing
You always talk about,”
They tease.
You always talk about,”
They tease.
I let them believe
I perform the great variation.
Did not tell them I was replaced
By dark-browed Bonnie,
That what I know best
Are the steps of the thickly padded bear
Distraught by hot porridge
And unmade beds.
I perform the great variation.
Did not tell them I was replaced
By dark-browed Bonnie,
That what I know best
Are the steps of the thickly padded bear
Distraught by hot porridge
And unmade beds.
I am afraid to dance at school
Even though these girls
Offer no more threat to me in ballet
Than I to them in college applications.
Even though these girls
Offer no more threat to me in ballet
Than I to them in college applications.
“The stage floor is too hard,
I might get hurt.
I might get hurt.
My teachers would be furious,”
I demur as I turn my feet out extra far,
Extend my neck,
Toss my hair like a prima ballerina.
I demur as I turn my feet out extra far,
Extend my neck,
Toss my hair like a prima ballerina.
I am pretty sure the myth of me
Is better than the reality.
Is better than the reality.
My body is angry
After ballet class tonight.
I walk gingerly down the hall.
Barefoot.
Blistered.
Barefoot.
Blistered.
Wash my face.
Brush my teeth.
Limp back to my room,
Shins stinging.
Brush my teeth.
Limp back to my room,
Shins stinging.
The ceiling at Señor Medrano’s
Is pebbly but clean.
No cracks scurry from the corners
To distract my mind.
Is pebbly but clean.
No cracks scurry from the corners
To distract my mind.
At home, in Vermont,
Mom painted my ceiling a soothing light blue
With pale yellow walls.
Covered my bed
With a plaid coverlet in baby-soft hues.
All very tasteful
In her style.
Mom painted my ceiling a soothing light blue
With pale yellow walls.
Covered my bed
With a plaid coverlet in baby-soft hues.
All very tasteful
In her style.
I pull Señora Medrano’s bright, nylon quilt
Up to my chin,
Stare at the ceiling’s white pimples,
Wonder which bed
I should sleep in.
Up to my chin,
Stare at the ceiling’s white pimples,
Wonder which bed
I should sleep in.
Which bedroom I want.
What dream I should dream
If I could sleep.
If I could sleep.
The stack of college brochures under my bed
Slips a little. In the slim shaft of morning sunlight
Sliding in beneath the blinds,
The stone archways
Of the Stanford University quad
Wink like supermodels from one glossy cover.
Sliding in beneath the blinds,
The stone archways
Of the Stanford University quad
Wink like supermodels from one glossy cover.
I put down Upton Sinclair’s
The Jungle
:
The ravaging tale
Of slaughterhouses in Chicago
In the early 1900s,
Of hearty immigrant Jurgis Rudkus,
Whose work ethic yields him nothing
But grief.
The Jungle
:
The ravaging tale
Of slaughterhouses in Chicago
In the early 1900s,
Of hearty immigrant Jurgis Rudkus,
Whose work ethic yields him nothing
But grief.
My fingers stray to the slim propaganda
Of Stanford.
Smiling young people with rounded cheeks
Grin from every page.
Clean, bright buildings,
Captions like ECONOMICS, PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE.
Of Stanford.
Smiling young people with rounded cheeks
Grin from every page.
Clean, bright buildings,
Captions like ECONOMICS, PHILOSOPHY, SCIENCE.
I try to imagine walking along sunny corridors
In ordinary shoes,
In ordinary shoes,
Shins not stinging, and no one
Asking me to bend or stretch,
To point my talent
Through my toes.
Asking me to bend or stretch,
To point my talent
Through my toes.
After a while
I put Stanford
Down beside
The Jungle.
Pull a pair of tights from the closet floor.
I put Stanford
Down beside
The Jungle.
Pull a pair of tights from the closet floor.
Reject Rudkus’s struggle,
College’s bright utopia,
For a dark green leotard,
A velvet ribbon in my hair.
College’s bright utopia,
For a dark green leotard,
A velvet ribbon in my hair.
I practice piqué turns
Beside Madison and Simone
To the right
And the bitter left—
My clumsy side
Where everything is harder.
To the right
And the bitter left—
My clumsy side
Where everything is harder.
When I was younger,
In Vermont,
Ballet was the right.
I floated above the others,
A little proud.
Easy
To dream
When you’ve turned
The right way.
In Vermont,
Ballet was the right.
I floated above the others,
A little proud.
Easy
To dream
When you’ve turned
The right way.
Here, trying to be a ballerina
Often feels like a step to the left.
Often feels like a step to the left.
Señor Medrano comes into the studio.
His character shoes squeak. He announces
His character shoes squeak. He announces
We have learned the Little Swans variation
Well enough to perform it on the tour.
Well enough to perform it on the tour.
We will be sewn into tutus,
Old but lacy.
Old but lacy.
Some newer girls
Eye us with jealousy
As Señor snaps commands;
We snap our heads
Right, left, right.
Eye us with jealousy
As Señor snaps commands;
We snap our heads
Right, left, right.
Jane smiles
When she passes me in the hall.
Her teeth are too white.
Her eyes too vague.
Her teeth are too white.
Her eyes too vague.
Can the scolding she gave me
Have faded in her memory?
The bright scar
Emblazoned on my brain
That makes me calculate the difference in our ages.
Have faded in her memory?
The bright scar
Emblazoned on my brain
That makes me calculate the difference in our ages.
She does not mention
My missed appointment.
Carries a clipboard under her arm.
Heads purposefully toward her office.
Jane is staff
While I am a real dancer,
But her breasts stretch the front of her shirt
In a way that turns the straight boys’ heads.
My missed appointment.
Carries a clipboard under her arm.
Heads purposefully toward her office.
Jane is staff
While I am a real dancer,
But her breasts stretch the front of her shirt
In a way that turns the straight boys’ heads.
My head turns, too.
I cannot take my eyes from that Cheshire Cat grin,
So mesmerizing
I miss my footing,
Slam against the dressing-room doorway.
I cannot take my eyes from that Cheshire Cat grin,
So mesmerizing
I miss my footing,
Slam against the dressing-room doorway.
Smiles mean a lot of things:
Congratulations,
Forgiveness,
Victory.
Congratulations,
Forgiveness,
Victory.
Jane’s sends a shiver down my spine.
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