Part 11 Fearful Dancing; Dancing Free

They were met at the studio by Allison, and by Tasha Pederov who immediately went and pulled Caitlyn into an enthusiastic hug. "Thank you, Cait, for going to bat with your Ms. Thompson for me. Even if I can't go, I won't ever forget you for going to bat like that for me with your Aunt Jane."

Jane saw Caitlyn's eyes narrow momentarily, and then harden in determination. *Well, I bet I know what she's decided. If force of will can get her past this block, Caitlyn has all she needs now.*

"I'll do my best, Tash," Jane heard her whisper in the other girl's ear. "I promise, I will do my best so that you can go to those interviews."

"Is it all right if I watch? I mean, Ms. Thompson showed me that tape of you dancing because I didn't believe you could fill in for me."

Caitlyn hesitated noticeably, but in the end nodded her assent.

"Caitlyn? You can change in my office and then use the practice room for your warmup," Madame Allison Jarvis put in, "Donald will be here in an hour to practice the pas de deux with you if we get that far."

"I'll come with you, dear," Jane said. "To do your face. So you will look as lovely as your dancing."

~------------~

It would be nice to say that everything went perfectly, that Caitlyn danced as well or better than she had when Jane had video-taped her, and that everyone in attendance was awe-struck by her artistry. However, reality is rarely so obliging, and the sad truth of the matter was that Caitlyn fell off her toe point numerous times. In fact, for the first several minutes, she couldn't even seem to move - at least not gracefully. The harder she tried, the less graceful she became, to the point where she ran off the floor and into the warm up room in tears.

"Caitlyn?" Diana said quietly, having followed the distraught dancer into the little room.

"Oh, go away!" she sobbed. "I tried, and I can't. Now, Tasha won't go to those interviews and it will be all my fault."

Diana moved closer, and put her hand on the girl's shuddering back. "Easy. Now, listen to me, Caitlyn Jeffries," she snapped out, drawing Caitlyn up short. "That's better," she said, her voice once again gentle. "First of all, if Tasha elects not to go to those interviews, that will be her choice. Madame Allison is certainly aware of how important those are and is willing to cancel a performance. I know you feel badly right now, but this is NOT your fault. You are the solution, dear, NOT the problem."

"But I can't dance out there," she sniffled. "Tasha needs me and I can't do it, Diana, not with all those people *watching* me."

"Then close your eyes for me. Close them, I said! Better. Now, listen to the music," Diana's voice slipped into a strangely haunting, dreamlike register that rose and fell with the music itself; a voice unlike any Caitlyn had ever heard before. "The music is all that matters. Let it take you, dear. Now, move to the music.. .that's it."

Diana watched as the movements which moments before had been so hesitant, so jerky, began to smooth out, began to gain confidence. "Feel it, sweetheart?"

Caitlyn came to a stop, momentarily shocked by what she'd just done. "Y . . yes. . .at least a bit. But no one was in here so it doesn't count," She added, just a bit pugnaciously.

"I was here, wasn't I? But this time you concentrated on the music and not on me. My presence no longer bothered you once it was the music that mattered."

"Oh my." Caitlyn's eyes were wide with surprise and wonder.

"Let's try it out there now? All right?"

"Will you be there to help me. .. like you just did?" Caitlyn asked timorously.

"Of course, sweetheart. Let's go try."

The second attempt went better. Under Diana's almost hypnotic support, Caitlyn closed her eyes and let herself forget everything but the music. The natural grace showed through more brightly with each passing step, every passing position and movement. Except that even the most accomplished dancer needs to be able to see at certain critical moments - such as when she is airborne and needs to judge where and when she will land. With her eyes closed, Caitlyn couldn't and repeatedly stumbled, often falling.

The turning point came after about twenty minutes of only partial success, when Caitlyn just broke down, sobbing on the floor after falling yet again. Jane and Tasha had each hugged the girl, telling her that they *knew* she could do it.

"I've tried, dammit. I can't dance with my eyes open and I can't dance with them shut, either. The only way I can fill in for Tash is if no one else is in the auditorium. Now that makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?" she wailed.

"Stand up!" Tasha snapped with a forcefulness that made Jane start momentarily. "Stand up, I said."

Slowly, Caitlyn stood. "Now, you will dance for me, Caitlyn. You will dance *with* me. Come on, I know you can do it and so do you. Let the music take us both and let us be beautiful together." Tasha let Caitlyn stare at her in confusion for several moments, before she smiled and added. "Please?"

Swallowing hard, Caitlyn gave her own smile, and nodded.

"Great. Let's play follow the leader. I lead, you follow, okay?"

With a flourish, Tasha led off the first few steps of the solo they'd been working on. Caitlyn watched her for a couple of moments, then took a deep breath, and stepped out herself.

And then, she did do it. All the way through the main solo. Without incident, without a misstep. Midway through the piece, Tasha stepped off the dance floor to watch her friend. Caitlyn was so caught up in the music and in the sheer exhilaration of the dance that she never even noticed that she was performing the solo alone.

By the time the male soloist arrived, Tasha and Allison were working with an ecstatically joyous Caitlyn, fine tuning her dancing.

There was something intensely satisfying, Caitlyn thought to herself, about that look of stunned disbelief on the male soloist's face when he recognized that it was Caitlyn who was working with Madame Allison.

"Ready for the gruesome twosome?" Tasha asked her friend with a gamine grin.

That was the moment of truth, Jane would think much later, the moment when Caitlyn's block disintegrated in light of her friend's support and regard and in the heat of her own passion for the dance.

The pas de deux itself was anticlimactic. The first time through Caitlyn performed flawlessly - the only missteps caused by the understandable lack of experience of each dancer working with the other. The rest of the time was spent fine tuning Caitlyn's and Donald's timing and stage positions, and went without any real difficulty.

"I think that's enough for today, kids," Allison said, finally calling an end to the practice. "Let's not risk an injury at this point."

Coming down from the emotional high of being able to share dance with others again, Caitlyn turned toward the small gallery with a huge smile on her face.

And stopped cold.

A petite, slender, dark haired woman was striding purposefully across the dance floor, a brilliant smile lighting her face.

"M. . m . MMmomMM???" Caitlyn got out just before she was swept up in her Mother's exuberant embrace.

"God, darling, but that was so lovely. I am *so* very proud of you. I can't believe how well you did that, and I can't believe you'd be brave enough to do something like this for your friend, but I think. . .no, I know that you're wonderful." The hug somehow tightened further. "You make me so proud, baby."

Caitlyn finally broke away, tears streaming down her face. "I am so sorry, Mom. I did not know you would be here. I know Diana said you weren't really sad about my dancing, but you were so upset when the dance mistress started complimenting my dancing, saying that I was doing things better than you. . ."

"No, darling. I was upset because I stupidly thought you would never be able to show off your talents. I know how hard it is to have a gift and have to choose. I thought that you would never even be given the opportunity to make that choice. I am glad that you showed me to be wrong, my love. I was devastated, darling, that's true, but it was *for* you and what I thought you could never have. Never for me."

"Oh, Mom," Caitlyn bawled as she stood sobbing an her mother's shoulder, held tightly within the safety of Eleanora's arms.

"There, there, baby. You were wonderful," Eleanora crooned over and over. "I thought you were so beautiful. You made me cry you were so beautiful."

For several minutes, the pair stood there, locked in their mutual embrace, warmed and healed by the surety of love. Finally, Caitlyn's emotional release ran its course, and her tears gradually slowed. Eleanora pulled a tissue from her purse and handed it to her child. "Blow your nose, sweetheart. Better now?"

"You really mean it, don't you? You really are happy about me dancing?" Caitlyn asked as she wiped tear reddened eyes.

"Of course I am, silly. My only regret is that you won't actually be dancing the lead in the show."

"I won't???" Caitlyn squealed, before spinning to face Tasha who was grinning sheepishly at her friend.

"Your Aunt Jane asked me to pretend that I had to choose between the camp and the dance so that you would have a reason to try. Like when her friend got hurt, you know? Actually, she fixed it so I get to go to the camp without the interview. Just the test and they sent that to me. Isn't she great?"

Caitlyn turned very slowly to face where Jane stood, watching her. Putting a blank look on her face, Caitlyn strode over to face Jane.

"It was all just a trick," Caitlyn stated.

"You needed some help to get past those memories. Dance is important to you and we wanted you to be able to enjoy it fully and freely again."

"I see," Caitlyn said noncommitally. "You know what I think, *Ms* Thompson?" she asked, taking yet another step toward Jane until the pair was bare inches apart.

"No, but I am sure you will tell me," Jane said, steeling herself for an eruption.

Suddenly, Caitlyn was in Jane's arms, hugging her tightly. "I think you're pretty great, too."

Eleanora was standing beside Jane and Caitlyn as they held each other. "Caitlyn, dear?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"You need to go fix your face, sweetheart. All those tears have destroyed your eye makeup."

Cold shock burned down Caitlyn's spine as she remembered for the first time just how she was garbed. "Oh my God! You saw me! Dressed like a g. . ."

"Like a dancer? Of course, dear," Eleanora said lightly as she led Caitlyn into the privacy of Allison's office again, closing the door behind them. "Still, that is no excuse. No daughter of mine is going out in public with tear tracks
in her mascara."

"Daughter?"

"Oh, dear Caitlyn, don't you think I want your happiness more than anything in the world? If what makes you happy is being the most beautiful, most graceful, most feminine ballerina in the world, then that is what I want for you!"

"But. . .but, I am a boy, Mom. You *want* me to be a girl? To wear makeup?"

"Dear, I love *you*. If Caitlyn is who you *really* are - inside - then you must maintain your appearance as the lovely girl Caitlyn Jeffries is - the way I expect *my* beautiful daughter to present herself to the world. You need to decide who you are, right now and either repair your makeup or take it all off and dress as Carlton. Or you can defer that decision until you are more certain, in which case you still need to repair your makeup so that you can continue as Caitlyn until you can decide," and a gently teasing grin lit Eleanora's face, "At least until you leave this place where your friends only know you as Caitlyn."

Somehow, choosing to become Carlton right then and there sounded far worse to the boy-girl than anything Caitlyn had endured or been threatened with during her season in Jane Thompson's petticoat prison. Still, it was not only her or her mother who would be affected by this decision. "Daddy will hate me."

"Stuff and nonsense, young lady. Name one time he has ever acted as though he hated you."

"Uh, well, but . . . "

"But nothing. He loves you, too. If this is who you are, who you *need* to be, then this is who he will love. I promise you that."

Jane knocked on the door and stuck her head in to call to the Mother and daughter pair. "Come on, folks. You, too, Eleanora. Let's go home."