Part 10 Confronting Caitlyn's Past

Caitlyn fought to keep herself from shaking outside Jane's upstairs studio. Fear had been clutching at her heart ever since Darla had come to tell her that Jane wanted to see her immediately.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and was told to enter. Jane and her friend Ms. Philips were both inside waiting for her. Surprisingly, they weren't sitting at Jane's huge desk, but rather in the small conversation grouping near the hearth. "Come over and sit down, Caitlyn," Jane ordered.

Caitlyn gave a quick curtsy and then took the chair Jane indicated.

"Well, Caitlyn, I have some good news for you, and sadly, some bad news."

*Oh god, it's too late - she is going to send me away.*

"The good news is that I have been able to arrange a full scholarship for your friend Tasha so that she will be able to attend that summer camp. Provided she is accepted for the program, of course."

"Oh Ms. Thompson," Caitlyn burst out, "Thank you so much. That is wonderful news. I am sure Tasha is over the moon."

"I am afraid, dear, that this is where the bad news comes in. To be accepted for the program, she has to go to Boston for three days this weekend for tests and interviews with the organizers."

"But, Ms. Thompson, that is when the troupe is dancing Sleeping Beauty. Won't they give her another time?"

"They can't, Caitlyn. The organizers have to finalize their plans next week in order to have everything ready to go. I am afraid that they are adamant that she has to go this weekend, and therein lies the problem. Your troupe doesn't have anyone else who can dance the lead. The performance can't be delayed because the auditorium won't be available again until after school lets out and several of the troupe have plans with their parents."

"And Tasha wouldn't dream of leaving the others in a lurch, even for this wonderful, once in a lifetime opportunity," Caitlyn added, obviously near tears.

"I am afraid that is so, but there is, perhaps one other solution." Jane turned to Diana. "Diana, would you please run that video tape?"

A small television flared to life, first with a test pattern which then coalesced into the picture of a room and a figure. Caitlyn quickly recognized the that the figure was dancing, but it took several moments for her to realize who the dancer actually was.

"Oh, no! That's me! You know. . I mean . . ."

"Easy, Caitlyn," Jane said moving over to sit beside her student and offer her support. "Yes, we know it is you dancing there. That is our solution. You must dance the part for Tasha so that she can go to the interviews."

"But I can't dance in public, Ms. Thompson. You know that. You've seen me try and I really was trying. Honest, I really was." The tears were flowing freely.

"I believe you, sweetheart," Jane said quietly. "But that," and her she pointed to the gracefully moving figure on the screen, "Says that you are capable of doing it. Your friend Tasha, and the rest of the dance troupe, need you, dear. They have worked so hard for this and you are the only one who can step in and save their show."

"Real men, Caitlyn," Diana interjected, "*And* real women stand by the people who stand by them. Your friends need your help, sweetheart. Won't you at least try to help them?"

"How long have you known?" Caitlyn asked, her head hanging.

"Since the night before Marie's injury." Jane replied.

"I am not faking, Ms. Thompson," Caitlyn said again, "Really! I have been trying to figure out for myself why I can't seem stand on two feet if you or someone else is watching when I *know* I could dance like that. I just get so. . . so . . . And what happens if they figure out I am not really a girl?"

"It's called an anxiety attack, Caitlyn. Something about dancing in public upsets you. I think it is why you have trouble with heels and makeup, unless you are alone or distracted," Diana cut in. "Caitlyn, the other night, I sedated you with a drug that acts much like a truth serum. I questioned you about your dancing then. Why do you think that it hurts your mother when you dance?"

"It just does."

"How do you know that, Caitlyn?"

"Because, when the instructor asked me to dance mother's part, she looked sad and hurt."

"What makes you think so - did she tell you she was sad and hurt?"

"No, but I saw it on her face."

"What did her face look like? Was she angry?"

"No, she was sad."

"Is there any other reason she might have been sad?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, yes. Why else would she be sad?"

"Suppose I told you another reason she might have been sad."

"Like what?"

"What if she was sad because she thought you couldn't dance ballet since you don't have the right physical body-type for a male dancer?"

"Well, I don't," she snapped back, almost petulantly.

"So?"

"So I can't dance ballet."

"Caitlyn, that tape says you can dance. The person on that tape dances ballet beautifully, and Caitlyn?" The gentle voice demanded and ultimately was given the boy-girl's full attention. "You *are* that person."

"But it will hurt Mom if I dance as a girl. And hurt Dad, too."

"Do you love them?"

"Of course!"

"I believe you. You love them enough to give up what you want most in the world, to dance the only way you can - as a graceful ballerina. Why don't you believe that they could love you, too? Even enough to want you to have your dream."

"They could? They do??"

"I showed your mother that tape recently, and she was so thrilled at your skill that she cried. Not tears of sadness, or jealousy, but tears of soul deep pride she couldn't contain and the tears of an artist in the presence of true beauty."

"She did?"

"Yes, Caitlyn," Jane reentered the conversation. "She did. You know you can trust me on this."

"My Mother really liked my dancing?

"She *loved* your dancing, silly, and she loves you - without any reservation," Jane said with quiet intensity. "Now, my dear, your friend Tasha needs you. No one else except the two of you could dance that part. As you just pointed out, she won't leave her friends in the lurch."

"But. . .but, I am a boy. It's one thing to do barre exercises or to do single floor exercises. It's a whole different matter to dance real solos, or a pas de deux. There's no way I will be able to hold up the masquerade in such situations."

"*No* one is going to read you as a boy," Diana told him. "Believe me, I know."

"How can you know that for sure?" Caitlyn asked suspiciously.

Diana reached up and pulled off her wig. "Because I don't get read and you are a thousand percent more believable than I am. Carlton?" he said softly using his "boy" name to get his attention. "It is all right to enjoy this if that is who you really are. No one here will think less of you. Especially since you do it so very well."

"You're a *man*?!?" the boy-girl gasped in surprise and shock.

"Yes, I am," Art said quietly, his voice dropping into the deeper ranges he used when appearing as a male. "However, I happen to *enjoy* dressing as and appearing in public as a woman. And Caitlyn? There is *nothing* wrong with that."

"There's not?" Art could here the quaver of uncertainty in the boy's voice, and perhaps a plea for reassurance on this point.

"Why should there be?" he asked reasonably. "My dressing hurts no one. I certainly would never do anything while dressed as Diana to hurt or embarrass anyone else."

"You wouldn't?" Caitlyn asked softly.

"Certainly not. No more than you try to hurt anyone when you dance late at night."

"But that is different," Caitlyn affirmed.

"No, it's not!" Jane and Art said, almost in unison.

"I don't know if I can do this, Ms. Thompson," Caitlyn cried, turning her attention back to Jane. "I don't want to let Tasha down, but I just don't think I can do this."

"Call me Aunt Jane, dear," Jane ordered as she swept the sobbing teen into her arms. "Of course you can do it if you will but give yourself permission to try. The important question is do you want to try? Try to help your friends who have worked so very hard for this? Madame Allison Jarvis has seen the tape, and she was *very* impressed. I assure you that she is *more* than willing to try if you are."

"You mean I can dance?"

Jane said nothing, but rather used the remote control she still held to restart the tape of Caitlyn's midnight dancing one more time. Once again, the three of them stood transfixed, caught up in the beauty of the lithe dancer moving in time to music only she could hear.

Shakily, Caitlyn turned her eyes up to meet Janes. "The girls there have all been pretty great to me, even when they were afraid that I would bungle their show."

"They'd be very disappointed if the show could not go on, dear." Jane offered quietly.

"I know." Caitlyn sighed. Jane thought that, for the very first time, the girl was almost willing to be convinced, so she pressed home her advantage.

"Are you willing to at least try, Caitlyn? They need you, perhaps not as badly as Marie needed you, but you are their only hope of being able to perform."

Caitlyn said nothing for a very long time, her teeth worrying at her lower lip as she fought the demons of her own mind. Finally, she gave a shaky nod of her head. "Could we go over, now? Just you, Marie, Diana and me, and try with Madame Jarvis? Oh, and Darla, too if she can make it. A sort of closed door rehearsal? If I fall all over myself, no one else has to know."

"You'll have to rehearse with your partners, Caitlyn," Jane reminded her. "You and your partners will have to learn each other before you can perform together during the actual production."

"I know. .. but. . .but, one step at a time. IF I can do it with just the six of us, then we can bring in the male lead and try the pas de deux. If that works, we go for it all."

"Sounds like a plan. Go get your things. I will call Allison and tell her we are on our way."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll be right back," Caitlyn said as she rose to leave. "My Mom really did say she was pleased with my dancing?"

"Over and over and over again. And Caitlyn?" Jane said with a smile. "I am very proud of you. We all are. Your Mother would be proud of you if she knew what you were going to try to do. Trust me on that, too."

"I will try my very best, Ms. . I mean, Aunt Jane."

"I know you will do well. Your friend needs you just like Marie needed you."

"Thank you, Ms. Thompson."

"What did you call me?" Jane demanded, a small smile playing on her face.

"I mean, thank you, Aunt Jane."

"Much better. Now scoot. We've got people to surprise today."

As the door closed behind the teen, Jane turned worried eyes to her lover. "Well?"

"We wait and see. I think she wants to believe us, as much because of her burning need to dance as for not wanting to cause her Mother pain."

"Did we make a mistake by having Eleanora stay away from this? She could have been the final nudge that pushed her over the top."

"Or she could have been the shove that pushed Caitlyn over the edge for good. We still have her in reserve, Jane, if this doesn't work. At least Caitlyn is questioning the basis of her fears now. Her nurturing instinct is helping, too. It's not quite as immediate as Marie's injury, but Tasha is very important to her. At the very least, she'll likely do better than you've ever seen her at that studio which is progress."

"Please let this work," Jane said fervently.

"Amen, lover. Amen."