The Dancing Bear (3 page)

Niki and Roxanne and Bruno led the procession of singing children into the hills never to return. And when Tiny came back, limping just the way I’d taught him, and told everyone that the children had gone for ever, it brought real tears to our eyes.

That last evening, there was a spontaneous party outside the café, brought on, I think, by relief that the film was finished, but also by a genuine friendship that had grown up between ourselves and the film crew. The children, some still in costume, were cavorting to raucous music with a thunderous pulsating beat, which the Sound Engineer had contrived to blast all around the village.

The Mayor, determined to show them that
there was another kind of music, went off to fetch his pipes. Someone pulled the plug on the amplifier and the Mayor struck up a country dance. It wasn’t long before the film crew, under Madame D’Arblay’s instructions, were dancing our way. They were very good at it, Niki in particular. But then, of course, we had to return the compliment and I found myself dancing
with Eva, the red-headed Wardrobe Mistress, who proceeded to teach me to dance their way. I think she’d taken a bit of a shine to me. I swear I moved parts of me I never even knew I had and I’m afraid I made a bit of a spectacle of myself. I told her of my passion for the Director’s purple fedora and she laughed and ruffled my hair – no one had done that to me since I was a boy.

I would have enjoyed it all a great deal more, but all the time I could see Roxanne sitting in Bruno’s cage. She was grooming him and talking to him. I knew then what she was telling him.

I was sitting at a table trying to get my breath back, when I saw Niki leave the party and go over towards her. They talked earnestly for some moments, through the bars of the cage. Then he brought her back into the café and danced with her. There was a new light in her eyes as she looked up at him, and she was more radiant than I had ever seen her.

The dancing, ancient and modern, alternated all evening. For all that time, Niki hardly left Roxanne’s side. I ate too much and I drank far too much. As night fell, I went off for my usual walk. I was going back towards the square, when I saw Bruno pacing up and down in his cage as he always did when he was upset. I went over to him and sang a little, trying to calm him down. He stood by me, breathing hard, and I scratched his tummy where I knew he liked it.

And then Roxanne was beside me. She put a hand on my arm.

“I need you to tell me what to do,” she said. “There’s no one else I can ask, there’s no one else I can trust.”

“What is it?” I said.

“When they go tomorrow Niki wants me to go with him. I’m going to be a singer. Niki says I sing well enough to be famous. Do you think I do?”

“Of course you do,” I said. It was an honest answer.

“I think I want to go, but I’m not sure. Grandpa says I should go because I’ll be rich. He says that with the money I’ll make, he could buy the farm next door. It will make all the difference, he says. And I do like singing. I do. You’ve always helped me, ever since I was little. Tell me what to do. Please.”

Now I could speak out. Now was my chance. I could not believe the words I found myself uttering.

“You must do what you want, Roxanne,” I said. “You’re old enough to know what you want. I can’t tell you what to do any more. No one can. It’s your life.”

She was looking at me – trying to drag the truth out of me. She wanted me to tell her to stay. She wanted me to stop her – I know she did. Then the moment passed.

“If I went,” she said, “would you look after Bruno for me? And would you take him for walks sometimes? Would you?”

“If that’s what you want, Roxanne,” I said.
She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“I knew you would,” she said. “Then I shall go. I’ve talked to Bruno. I’ve told him. He understands.” She turned to the bear. “You understand, don’t you, Bruno? And anyway, Niki says I can come back whenever I want. And I’ll come back often, honest I will. He says he’ll take me to the sea. I’ve never seen the sea. We’ll go up in planes. We’ll fly. Can you imagine that?”

And then she was gone away from me, back towards the light of the café, back to Niki.

It was very late when Niki hushed everyone and told them the news I already knew. Roxanne stood beside him, looking down at her feet. Her grandfather had his arm around her and he was smiling like a cat that’s got the cream. I think Niki expected applause when he had finished – he was rather used to applause – but the villagers were numbed to silence. The Mayor stood up and spoke for us because someone had to say something.

“Roxanne is a daughter to all of us,” he said, “and no one likes to see a daughter leave. But we are proud of her, very proud; and we hope that wherever she goes, wherever she sings, she won’t forget us or the place she belongs to.”

It was Tiny who managed inadvertently to bring some smiles back. “Send us a postcard,
Roxy” he called out, and everyone laughed with relief. But there was no more dancing that night.

We were all there early the next morning and said our goodbyes to the film crew and to Roxanne. The Wardrobe Mistress kissed me fondly and said that she wished she’d had a teacher like me when she was at school. That was kind of her, I thought. Roxanne crouched down by Bruno’s cage, a battered brown suitcase beside her. She clung to the bars.

“I’ll be back,” I heard her whisper. “I promise.”

And then she got up and came over to me, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Look after him for me,” she said. Then she was gone.

They were all gone and we were left once more to ourselves, to the silence of our mountains.

Some time later that morning I went to give Bruno his breakfast. He was sitting back against
the bars of the cage where Roxanne had left him, still gazing after her. I opened the door and poured his meal into his trough. He never moved. He never looked. It was only when I went to stroke him that I realised he was dead.

No one comes here much any more since Bruno died. From time to time I hear Roxanne singing with Niki on my radio, and I’ve seen her on the television too. She’s almost more famous than he is, now. I feel proud and sad at the same time. She still sings like the angels. I wrote to her telling her about Bruno. She never replied. I’m sure she never even got the letter.

Some time ago, I received a parcel from the Wardrobe Mistress, and there was a note with it. She said she had told the Director of my passion for his purple fedora hat. Here it was, she said. It came with her love. It would be just right for me. I tried it on, but it did not fit.

First published in Great Britain by Collins in 1994
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THIRTY-ONE EDITION

Text copyright © Michael Morpurgo 1994
Illustrations copyright © Christian Birmingham 1994

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