Butterfly (Orphans 1)

Daniel came strutting down the aisle, a big wide grin on his face. He wore a cowboy hat, a pale yellow western shirt, jeans, and boots. Everything looked new, but because the rest of the audience was dressed as if it were really a city ballet theater, he stood out and caused an immediate wave of chatter.

"That's how you come dressed to this?" Celine said as he approached us.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It cost enough," he added. "Hey, break a leg," he said to me. There wasn't a seat for him so he took a place against the wall, folded his arms, and leaned back.

Soon after Daniel arrived I left my family and joined the other performers who were at the barres exercising. Dimitri stopped and came over to me.

"Relax," he said. "You're too tight. This isn't exactly the Metropolitan Ballet, you know. It's just a bunch of proud parents mooing and gooing." "Are your parents here?" I asked.

"Of course not," he said. "This isn't anything."

"It is to me," I admitted. He smirked. Then he smiled that arrogant smile and I was sorry that I'd let him know how important tonight was to me.

"Just pretend I'm out there with you and you'll be fine. In fact," he said leaning toward me, "imagine I'm naked."

My face instantly grew hot. He laughed and moved off to join the older students. I saw them all looking my way. He was whispering to them and they were smiling and laughing. I tried to ignore them, to concentrate on what I was doing, but my heart wouldn't stop thumping and I was having trouble catching my breath.

Finally, Madame Malisorf took the floor and the room grew so still you could hear someone clear his throat way in the back of the audience.

"Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming to our semiannual recital. We will begin today with a demonstration of some of the basic, yet difficult ballet exercises, what we call the adage po

rtion of our class, to be performed by my primary class students. You will note how well the students maintain position and balance.

"All of them, I am happy to say, are now dancing sur les pointes or on pointe, as we say. As some of you who have been here before know, toe dancing was developed early in the nineteenth century but did not become widely used by ballet dancers until the eighteen thirties, when the Swedish-Italian ballerina Marie Taglioni demonstrated its potential for poetic effect. Heritage, style, technique, grace, and form are what we emphasize at the Malisorf School of Ballet.

"Without further comment, then, my primary students," she announced, did a small bow, and backed away, nodding at the piano player as she did so.

We knew what we had to do as soon as the music started and all of us took position. The most difficult part of the routine as far as I was concerned was the entrechat, something I had just been taught. The entrechat is one of the steps of elevation. The dancer jumps straight up, beats the calves of the legs together in midair, and lands softly. Madame Malisorf wanted us to connect that with a pirouette before coming to a graceful stop, and then a bow, hopefully to applause.

I looked at my new grandparents and then at Celine, who wore a small smile on her lips. Sanford nodded at me and gave me a wider smile. Daniel looked like he was laughing at everyone. He stepped away from the wall and pretended to go on pointe and then fell back against the wall.

The music began. As I danced, I noticed every one of the primary students glancing at everyone else. I remembered how important it was to concentrate, to feel the music, to be in your own little world, and I tried to ignore them. The only face I caught a glimpse of was Dimitres. He looked as sternly critical as Madame Malisorf.

The pain in my feet was excruciating. I might as well be in some sort of torture chamber, I thought. Why had Madame Malisorf been ignoring my agony? Was this really the way a dancer developed or was Dimitri right: she was pushing me because Celine wanted it that way?

Soon after we had begun, the girl beside me began to close the gap between us. Madame Malisorf never had us rehearse together. It was just assumed we would all remain in our own space and do what we were taught to do. I should have paid more attention to those around me because the girl came down after a turn and actually grazed the skirt of my tutu with her right hand.

It put me off balance, but I didn't realize it until I finished the entrechat and began to pirouette. I leaned too far in her direction so that when she turned and I spun, we collided and both lost our balance. I fell to the polished floor in an awkward flop that resulted in my sitting down hard on my hands. She continued to lose her balance and nearly collided with another dancer before falling on her side.

The audience roared with laughter, Daniel's laugh one of the loudest. Dimitri looked sick. Celine's mouth opened and closed and then her face filled with disbelief. Sanford looked sad, but my new

grandmother kept shaking her head and smirking. My new grandfather just looked surprised.

Madame Malisorf, off to the right, gestured for us to rise quickly, and I did so. I started to perform the last steps again, but she shook her head and indicated I should simply stop and join the others in their bows.

There was loud applause. The guests appeared to have enjoyed our imperfections. Madame Malisorf took the center stage again and waited for silence.

"Well," she said, "that's why we spend most of our youth trying to do the simplest exercises and steps. Ballet is truly the dance of the gods," she added. "My primary students," she said gesturing at us and stressing the word primary. There was loud applause again and we all hurried off the stage. The older students approached to take our places. Dimitri glared at me.

My stomach felt as if it had filled with gravel. The girl who had collided with me came over to me immediately.

"You little idiot," she said. The others stopped to listen. "How could you be so clumsy? Why didn't you watch where you were going?"

"I did. You came too close to me," I cried. "Everyone saw it. Whose fault was it?" she asked her friends.

"The Dwarf's," one of the boys quipped and they all laughed. The girl fired another look of hate at me and they walked away. I sat on a chair, my tears zigzagging down my cheeks and dropping off my chin.

"Hey, hey," I heard someone say and glanced up to see Sanford walking through the backstage area. "There's no reason for that. You did fine."