The Midnight Dancers: A Fairy Tale Retold (15 page)

She said. “That’s very nice of you to let us stay.”

He looked up at her, his eyes tilting out of the shadow. They were blue, sharp blue. “Thank you. I like to be nice.”

“I’m Rachel Durham,” she said, since there was not much else she could think of saying.

“I’m Michael Comus,” he said, and extended his hand to her. She took it gingerly, unused to shaking hands with men, and found her hand enveloped in a warm, firm squeeze, then released. There were blond hairs on the back of his hands, and the fingers were quite long.

“Where are you from, Rachel?” he asked, stretching back and moving over to make room for her. She gingerly sat down beside him, tucking her skirt under her knees.

“My sisters and I live across the bay, on the other side of this island.”

“Sisters?” his gaze traveled over the crowded portico. “Are
all
these girls your sisters?”

“Yes,” she said. “I have five natural sisters, and my father married a woman with six girls, so they’re all my sisters.”

“Twelve girls,” he marveled, and looked at her. “You must be Catholics.”

“Oh! No, we’re Christians.”

A slight smile came over his face. “Your father isn’t the Colonel Durham who’s on the board of Bayside Christian Church?”

“He is,” Rachel said, nodding and pushing back her hair.

“My father knows him,” Michael said. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Oh,” she was surprised.

“Do I look younger?” he asked, amused.

“I can’t tell ages very well,” she said. He looked neither old nor young, almost timeless. She noticed his forehead was fairly high, and his eyes were set deeply in his face, giving him an aristocratic, intense look.

“Do you—spend a lot of time here?” she asked.

He smiled. “Actually, not very much at all, not any more. When I was a kid, I came here more often. Now, there’s not much to do.”

“Did you just come back tonight?”

“Today, actually. I needed some down time, and I was bored, so I came here, expecting to be even more bored. I was watching a movie with the lights off when I heard the motorboats, so I came down to investigate.”

“I’m sorry we were trespassing,” she said, after a pause.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “Why did you?”

“Well—” she flushed, and explained, “every time I went down to the bay, I would see this island and wonder what was on it. Then when we were out boating with our guy friends, I persuaded them to stop on the quay, just to see what it was like. My younger sisters wanted to have a dance party, which is why we came back here tonight.”

“I see,” he said meditatively. “So this island was a temptation for you?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “An extremely persistent temptation.”

He raised his blond brows. “Far be it from me to discourage you from giving in to temptation, Miss Durham.”

A smile touched her lips, unsure as to whether he was joking or not. He smiled at her.

“How do you know my father?” she asked.

He stretched. “My father is on the chamber of commerce, and they’ve had some run-ins with that church, and with your father. He’s one of those fundamentalist types, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said, with a bit of a sigh.

He pursued, “Your family must be quite strict.”

“You could say that.”

“But yet they let you girls—even the young ones—go boating on the Bay after midnight?” Michael looked at her with knitted brows and an ironic grin on his face.

Rachel had to smile. “Well, now, they don’t exactly—”

He finished for her, “—they don’t exactly know you’re out here? Are they away?”

“No. We’ve just—we just have a way of getting out of the house that they don’t know about.”

She told him about the discovery of the secret staircase, and their expeditions out in the night. He listened attentively.

After she finished, he shook his head. “You girls have a lot of courage, going out on your own like this. Shows more spirit than I’d have expected, the way you were raised.”

“Thanks,” she said, unsure of what to say, but her face felt warm.

He looked at her. “You’re welcome to come to this quay any time you like and dance at night.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Really,” he said, smiling. “I‘m all for encouraging your spirit of adventure.”

“That’s very nice of you,” she said.

“Rachel,” he said, looking at her keenly. “I am a very nice man.”

He looked up, and Rachel saw Prisca and Tammy hovering on the edge of the landing, looking at them uncertainly.

“Please, introduce me,” he said, rising.

“Oh—certainly—” she got up, realizing how much time had gone by. She quickly said, “Michael, these are my sisters, Prisca and Tammy.”

“One from each parent, I can tell,” Michael said, shaking their hands. The younger girls were also unused to handshakes, and Rachel saw Prisca clutching her hand nervously after Michael had released it.

Michael was apparently well brought up, and used to small talk. He chatted in a friendly way with the two sisters, found out their ages and interests, and charmed them. Rachel introduced Debbie and Linette, who had come up next, their curiosity overcoming any residual shyness.  It took the next thirty minutes for Michael to meet them all, the guys included.

“Is he mad at us?” Alan asked Rachel in a low voice while Michael talked with Miriam and Brittany.

She shook her head. “I think he was bored here alone. He said he was glad to have the company.”

“Doggone lucky for us.”

Rachel had to agree.

The party broke up around three, and Michael saw them off. Before she got in the boat, he took Rachel’s hand suddenly and said, “I’m serious. I’d like you all to come back again. Can you come tomorrow night?” It was a polite gesture—he was just helping her into the boat—but she still felt a rush of warmth.

“Sure, I think so,” Rachel said, casting a glance around at everyone, who nodded.

“Good. I’ll look forward to it.”

When they were roaring away from the island, Prisca sidled up to Rachel and said, “Well!
That
was luck!”

“No kidding,” Rachel said, still marveling at it.

“And he’s handsome too,” Prisca breathed in her ear. Rachel, who had already observed this, felt no need to reply.

Yes, luck had been with them,
she thought.
For sure.

The next day, Rachel was languid.  The day was muggy, and hot, and she was tired and out of sorts.  She couldn’t imagine a more stark contrast with the excitement of last night. Michael had told them to come back.  Maybe he would dance with her.  She felt certain he was an excellent dancer.

As she stood in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes, she thought again of the midnight butterfly dress. More than ever, she needed to make it. The problem was getting the material. “Shiny material calls too much attention to the body,” the pastor’s wife had earnestly said at a woman’s day retreat some time ago. “As Christians we’re not meant to be paying that much attention to the body. And should we really be spending money on worldly excesses?” Ever since that time, Sallie had shoed her daughters away from the “formal occasion” section of the fabric store, so much so that Prisca had dubbed it the “sin” aisle.
I don’t care
, thought Rachel.
I’m going there and getting it anyway.

The problem was, she didn’t know when Sallie was going to let her out of the house.  Sallie was on the warpath, upset that the house was not cleaned, and irritable from having discovered three of her daughters still in bed after nine o’clock.

“I don’t understand it!” she complained to Cheryl, who was moping around the kitchen, pouring cereal and rubbing her eyes. “All this sleeping in! Tammy and Taren are still lazing around upstairs and it’s going on ten! Well, take advantage of the fact that it’s summertime. I don’t want to see this in the fall.”

“I told you, Mom, they were up too late last night,” Cheryl said. “We’ve been reading those missionary books you got us for Christmas.”

“You girls have to start getting to bed earlier,” Sallie said. “Linette has been cranky this entire week. Maybe I’ll just have to get up at midnight and turn off your lights.”

“I’ll make sure the lights are off,” Cheryl said quickly.

“I hope so,” she said, and heaved a sigh. “No, Jabez, no. We don’t pull hair.”  She pulled the toddler off his older brother, Robbie, who had started yelling. “Rachel, could you take him?”

Rachel had already mechanically gone for Jabez, disentangling the pudgy hand from the handful of Robbie’s hair. She picked up the toddler by his overall straps and swung him into her arms. He punched her shoulders excitedly. Absentmindedly she sat him on the counter and gave him a cookie.

“Cheryl, after you’ve cleaned the kitchen, we need to get out the canning jars I have downstairs,” Sallie said. “I want you girls to bring them up and put them through the dishwasher, okay? Rachel, no more cookies for him, please.” Rachel took away the cookie. “Cheryl, while you’re at it, could you—Jabez! Please! Be quiet!—Rachel, could you—?”

Rachel took the wailing boy out of the kitchen into the living room. She felt dead tired, and collapsed on the couch.

“Okay, Jabez, let’s play ‘Rachel goes to sleep.’  Here, lie down with me and pretend to go to sleep.” The toddler tucked his big head under her chin, and she could just see, through her half-closed eyes, his cheeks puffed out in a smile. “Aww, sleepy Jabez. Sleepy….” she coaxed, knowing he would only tolerate this game for about fifteen seconds.

Then he sat up and pounded her on the chest. “Oh! Waking-up Jabez! Awake!” she breathed. “Now sleepy again! Sleeeepy….” He lay down again obediently, and then sat up a second later with a shout.  “Awake! Oh, boy, Jabez. Now we sleep … Sleepy Rachel…”

She played with him in this manner, all the while falling into a half-doze. Sleepy Rachel …

Jabez eventually tired of the game, and scrambled off her to go play on the piano. She was able to tune out the pounding of the keys, and when that ceased, she tumbled into a deeper layer of sleep.

Sleep was like night entering into the day, and she had tantalizing visions of dances in the moonlight, in that other world where she was more alive than …

She stirred in her sleep and then abruptly woke up, feeling herself watched.

Paul was standing in the doorway of the living room. She blinked at him.

“Hi,” he said, uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Oh!” she said stiffly, sitting up. “No, that’s okay. I must have dozed off.”

He shifted his weight to his other foot. “The girls told me you might be in here, but I didn’t realize you were sleeping.”

“I didn’t realize it either,” she yawned, covering her mouth absently. “What’s up?”

“That’s a very nice dress you’re wearing, by the way.”

Rachel pulled the skirt of her plain denim dress straight in some annoyance. “Huh. Thanks.”

“Um. I actually came to ask you a favor.” He wasn’t looking her in the face. She curled her lip in amusement.

“Sure,” she said, stifling yet another annoying yawn. “Sit down?”

“Thanks.” He sat on the footstool instead of the chair. “It’s like this. Your younger sisters are really doing great at the juggling, and I asked them if they wanted to be part of my routine at the fair. I asked your—stepmother—” his eyes flew to her face at the word, and she nodded, “if it was all right, and she said, fine. The problem is, they need costumes. For tumbling in. And she didn’t think she’d have time to help them make any. The girls said you’re the best seamstress in the house. So I was wondering if you’d make them some costumes.”

She considered. “Well, sure, I could. What sort of costume?”

“Well, mine is mostly black and white with a multicolored vest. For the girls I thought maybe something simple—like black pirate pants and white tunics, and sashes. The big thing is they need pants to wear when they tumble. I told your stepmother it’s okay with me if she wants them to wear dresses on top of that. But I don’t know how complicated that would be.”

Rachel was already fitting this request into her already-in-process schemes. “Hmm. Black material. Like satin, maybe?”

“Oh, sure. Whatever you can find. Whatever is cheap and durable. I said I could pay for the costumes. Would you want me to pay you to make them?”

“Oh, never mind about that. I’m sure Dad will give money for the costumes. They’re for the girls, after all. How soon do you want them?”

“Well—as soon as you can. Maybe two days? Is that too soon?”

“Not if I can get the fabric today,” Rachel said, tossing back her hair. “I’ll ask Sallie if I can take the car.”

“That would be great.”

“Do you want to come with me to pick something out?” she asked, looking him in the face.

“No, no that’s okay. I trust your judgment. I actually have to go juggle in an hour. The fair opens at noon.” He seemed flushed.
What’s up with him today?

“Do you need a ride there?” She asked only to see what he would do.

“No. That’s okay. It’s not far to walk.”

“Okay.” She thought of something, and said, “Maybe I can bring the fabric by the fair and you can see if you like it.”

“Sure, if you want. Just ask for me at the gate, and they’ll let you in.”

“All righty then.” She got up.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He fleetingly met her gaze, then turned and walked out.

She couldn’t help chuckling to herself.
I suspect
, she thought,
that something
is up with Corporal Paul Fester.
Maybe Debbie had started some mischief. “Rachel likes you,” she could picture Debbie saying.

Or maybe, of his own initiative, he liked her. She was amused, but not surprised. Guys were like that. Sad. He didn’t have a chance.

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