The Pas de Deux

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I stared at the mirror trying to tie my bun into place.

I never knew it could be so hard. All those years in a ballet studio and the experience of getting my hair perfectly right alluded me.

"Are you about done?" A young voice yelled, breaking my concentration. "Madame Anne wants us in the studio. And the boys are waiting."

"Just a sec, Caroline," I said as I grabbed my Gaynor Mindens.
I couldn't help but fight the butterflies. The memories were all rushing back.

It was a battle just coming back to this place, even though it was always my refuge during my struggle within.
I left this town to find myself, to become myself.
The decision to come back wasn't easy.

Those who judged me so harshly, treated me so harshly were still here when I returned from my journey.
But there were people who backed me in my struggles who were
waiting, too.

Madame Anna was one of those people.

"You should dance again," she told me one sunny day in San Francisco shortly after my surgery.

I fought the urge, even though it was the one thing that made me happy.

When I returned home because of my mother's illness, she was insistent I return to the studio where I'd danced most of my childhood, which launched me briefly to a professional career.

"I can't do it," I told her over and over. "People will not take this well."

She finally convinced me to take private classes.

She was hard on me as she always was, except this time we worked to change my "wiring."

The leaps, the tours en'lair she and my other teachers drilled into my head were gone, replaced by the large Gaynor Mindens that had me on my toes. The bourrees, the fouettes, those forbidden movements of my youth she hammered into my psyche.

"You are a natural," she told me after one greuling session. "You've observed the movements all of these years. I know it will not take you long to pick them up."

She finally convinced me to join the company class, which now consisted of mainly teenagers who were mere children the last time I perfomed with the school.

Caroline, the girl I stretched at the barre with, was Clara in the Nutcracker when I left to dance professionally.
The first few classes back, I heard the whispers and the snickering behind my back.

But I was surprised by the support I received from most of my classmates, especially after they saw me dance. Their parents, though, were still another matter. Some threatened to pull their precious children out of class.

But few did.

That resistence was the reason I was reluctant to agree to accept a starring role in Madame Anna's ballet she was choreographing.

It helped I would be working with a kindred spirit.
One of the two "boys" waiting on Caroline and I was a "boy" my age, Henrik Svensen.Henrik was well traveled. He came to the U.S. as a teenager after dancing at the Royal Danish Ballet and the Royal Academy of Dance.

We danced two years at New York City Ballet. He never hid the fact that he was gay.
He was semi-retired and teaching at the school where I grew up.

"How are you doing Susie?" he asked after we were done stretching.
"A little nervous, my friend," I said right before he grabbed me and picked me up above his shoulders.
"Well!" I said.
"I just want you to know I'm strong," Henrik said. "I can hold you up."

"Thank you," I whispered as he gently lowered me to the ground.

Caroline and her partner Robert shook their heads in disbelief.

"OK ladies and gentlemen, it's time to go to work," Madame Anna said.

She explained a little bit about the choreography before we began to work.

"Don't worry Susan, I'm sure a lot of this will come to you," she told me.

In truth, I was learning the opposite role of the one I performed over and over through the years.

I took a deep breath as I began to bouree across the floor, Henrik following my every move. He slowly grabbed my arms as I went into an arabesque. He helped me maintain my balance as he put his hands around my waist.

They were firm hands. I wondered if my hands were as firm on the girls I partnered through the years.

I was amazed how quickly he found my leg when I went into a penche.
"Very nice," Madame Anna said reassuringly.

The pas de deux we were learning was a little complicated.
I appreciated the breaks in between. The two couples, we mirrored each other.

Caroline and Robert were amazingly beautiful.

I grew more comfortable with Henrik the longer the session went. I barely knew he was back there until he stopped me during the combination that included pirouettes.

"You can do five?" Henrik said.
"When we danced in New York, I could do eight, remember?" I whispered.

I found his confidence very reassuring when we did whip turns, first with the finger turns and then with the turns by the waist.

My confidence grew during the lifting part of the pas de deux. I felt like I was soaring during the press lift and the shoulder sit. I melted in his arms during the romantic part of the pas.

He gently placed me on the ground as the music reached neared its end.
I placed my arms on his shoulders and embraced. I gave him a passionate kiss on the lips at the end.

"If only you weren't gay," I whispered.
He smiled.

We heard clapping as he picked me up to my feet.

"You surprised me on the kiss," Madame Anna said with a smile.
"I'm sorry, Madame, it wasn't planned," I said.

"Do not apologize," she said. "That is what I want from you on stage. I told Caroline I expected the same passion out of her. The stage is where you belong."

She was right.

Throughout my storm-torn life, the stage was always my home.

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Comments

What this needs is . . .

Paragraphs.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

What this needs is , , , ENCOURAGEMENT

I was so lost in this beautiful story I didn't even notice the formatting. Not once did the lack of structure throw me.

Please write more.

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Being old,

ALISON

'and old fashioned and a lover of ballet,I just loved the story.

ALISON

Brava

Andrea Lena's picture

...mon cheri! Merci!



Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Short and...

Angharad's picture

sweet, or should that be suite?

Angharad

Angharad

The Pas de Deux

Throughout my storm-torn life, the stage was always my home. says it best. No need to well on her past, unless the author wants to post it. [hint, hint.]

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Very nice that Susan made

Very nice that Susan made her dancing debut with little to no gender bashing by others, except for the very few parents that were upset. There is always some who are so narrow minded and self-centered that they ruin it for anyone else.

beautiful

as pretty as the prettiest dance. short, but very moving.

"Treat everyone you meet as though they had a sign on them that said "Fragile, under construction"

dorothycolleen

DogSig.png

Great little tale

janet_L.'s picture

Just beautiful.

I'm a dancer (folk, not ballet) tentatively learning to do the parts I was not eligible for when I first learned.

This little gem brought tears to my eyes.