Senetsky going to an event and Howard out of our
hair, we all felt a bit more confident about violating
the boundaries of the house and paving Gerta another
visit.
Ice remained downstairs while Cinnamon. Rose. and I pretended to be tired and went up to bed. Steven lingered a while and then grew bored and went to his room and his games. A little less than a half hour later, Ice told us Ms. Fairchild had retired for the evening, warning her to be sure everything was turned
off and things left neatly before she went up to sleep. Still quite nervous and frightened, we all
descended the stairway, pausing occasionally to listen.
All I heard was the pounding of my own heart, the
blood thumping through my veins and echoing in my
ears. A grandfather clock banged the hour.
Floorboards creaked, but other than that, the house
was very quiet.
At the doorway to Madame Senetsky's private
rooms, we paused one final time. All of us knew that
once we entered, there was no turning back. Secrets
would spill over. There would be serious
consequences. Our careers would be seriously set
back. What drove each of us to go forward with these
realizations bubbling under our skin was not very
different. I thought. We each saw something of
ourselves in Gerta, in her plight and in her loneliness. During one of her frequent lectures. Madame
Senetsky had emphasized how a good performer
always brings something of himself or herself, some personal, even traumatic experience to his or her
performance.
"It is the way we see ourselves in others,
especially in roles we are asked to perform, that will
determine how well we will exhibit our talents." she
explained. "Whether it be music or dance or acting,
the commonality we all share is the well from which
you will draw your aesthetic sense and strength. "Be perceptive, use your compassion and your