Chapter 8
After returning from the hospital, Mrs. Fonteyn watched each and every girl perform their solos diligently and with great interest, but she her mind was repeatedly distracted by the situation with Victoria's father. Bringing back the memory of her late mother made her heart swell with hurt and anger.
No, she thought herself, and reconstructd her posture. She watched girl number thirty audition for Clara, and decided Mrs. Fonteyn decided she would be better off as a Snowflake. And that's the way she spent Nutcracker auditions-- drifting in and out of the past and reality, itching to burst out of the stuffy audition room.
After all the ladies were done, and Mrs. Fonteyn and the other judges had decided on each one's roles, she was finally able to escape.
Taking a deep breath in the freshh air, the teacher walked briskly to her small, red convertible buggy. She whipped out her keys from her purse, just about to press the "unlock" button when a voice called out, "Mrs. Fonteyn! Mrs. Fonteyn!"
Rushing towards her was a breathless Sheena, her tutu bouncing up and down. Mrs. Fonteyn knew what the girl wanted. "You got the role of Clara, Sheena. Congratulations!" She nearly made it into the driver's seat when Sheena's hand reached out and stopped the door from closing.
Sheena, puzzled and wondering why Mrs. Fonteyn was in such a hurry, quietly asked, "That's not what I was asking about. I wanted to know whether or not Victoria and her mother are alright." She had not only asked about her best friend's mother, but her friend herself. Sheena had seen the way Victoria acted, and that time had been the worst. The eyes of terror that appeared on her face...
Mrs. Fonteyn hesitated, then replied, "They're both fine. Victoria's mother is supposed to be released in a few days, maybe weeks."
"And Victoria? Will she be alright? I know that you said she was fine, but she keeps things bottled up in her that she thinks I don't know about." Sheena probed further. She was determined to squeeze out every drop of information. She had to know.
"Victoria is..." Mrs. Fonteyn tried to find the right words. How could one express the monstrousity she'd experienced in the car? "Victoria is going through a tough time."
"Will she get better?"
Why did Sheena assume that she knew all of the answers. Reassurance, she told herself. That's all she wants. Reassurance. "...Yes."
"Oh... okay." Sheena nodded, satisfied. Then she raced off after saying goodbye.
From her spot next to her car, the ballet instructor saw a group of girls heading in her direction, excited and talking amongst themselves. They obviously wanted to meet the famous Amelia Fonteyn, prima ballerina. She had dealt with this before, and had always been very pleased, but she didn't want to have to go through this. Not now. Mrs. Fonteyn couldn't spare any more time. An urge to run away told her to run, and so she hurried into the car and turned on the engine, a nagging sense telling her, "I'm waiting for you. I'm waiting, Amelia."
Thirty-two minutes later, Mrs. Fonteyn parked her car next to the Lakewater Springs Church and Graveyard. The talk with Victoria's father at the hospital honestly had brought back tear-stained memories of her mother, who had died of cancer. And the talk had certainly motivated to go and pay Beatrice Washington a visit.
The instructor timidly stepped out of her red buggy, remembering the strong connection that they had had.
Mrs. Fonteyn's mother had also been a ballerina, one of the greatest of her era. Beatrice had grown up in St. Petersburg, Russia, despite the fact that her parents were of English descent. She'd trained at the Vaganova Academy and become a pure artist, then married and gave birth to Mrs. Fonteyn and her brother, Charles. After both parents had retired, they'd packed up their things and moved to America, where there was greater opportunity.
Amelia and Charles both trained to be professional dancers under their mother's wing and care. She'd opened up a dance studio and made sure that the two of them excelled in nearly every class. And that's how their life was, a family of dancers, until Charles decided to quit and pursue his passion as an engineer. Oh, how her mother had cried! She had had such high expectations for both of them. It seemed impossible to her to have a son who refused to do anything with fine arts after his middle school years. While Mrs. Fonteyn had been studying abroad, Charles had written letters to her telling about how school was so terrible. Kids were always beating him up all the time and teased him for being a dancer. "Hey Ballet Boy," they say, "You got class today? Hope you don't fall spinning and twirling!" Their sarcasm sickened Charles.
But they were both alright. Mrs. Fonteyn as a teacher, Charles married and with a son.
The memories brought tears to the ballet teacher's eyes. Her mom had never gotten the chance to see her accomplish her dream... she never got the chance to see her first grandchild. Nope, nope. It had been to early, her death. Why?
Mrs. Fonteyn picked her way through the array of tombstones and found the one decorated with faded purple pansies and yellow roses. "Mom," Mrs. Fonteyn whispered. She clutched the bottom of her shirt, choking out a sob.
"Amelia!"
Mrs. Fonteyn turned around and couldn't believe what she saw. Charles? Despite the fact that they didn't live very far away, they barely ever saw each other.
"Charlie?"
She was swept off her feet and spun around in a hug. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" A swell of happiness filld her chest even though she had just been grieving.
Her older brother smiled down at her, lean and tall as always. He had bushy brown hair streaked with bronze and a jolly smile, paired with a personality of pure sunshine. "What a coincidence!" He kept on smiling that silly smile of his. "Have you been rehearsing for the Nutcracker? I can't wait to go and watch it!"
The amount of enthusiasm made Mrs. Fonteyn's heart drop.
"Oh... that's right," her brother said dryly.
About a year ago, Mrs. Fonteyn has sufferend from a broken leg. They'd taken her to the emergency room of the Lakewater Hospital. Mrs. Fonteyn had been in a cast for a few weeks, and even after the leg had healed, it was the same. She had gone through vigorious amounts of exercise to get her leg strength back. But... so many things had been a stuggle. No more lead roles for her, she was sure. Her leg was still fragile, and she could barely go up en pointe. Overcoming her obstacles was the most difficult thing for her yet. Add into that her failing health, and Mrs. Fonteyn had just decided to quit the company.
Now she was a teacher, a proud one. She had countless talented pupils that within a few years could be company material. And unbelievably, she felt happier than she used to at the Lakewater Ballet.
But nevertheless, she sometimes seemed to be left out: a principal with no stage. "It's-it's okay. I'm doing better now, Charlie, I really am."
Her brother smiled with a hint of sadness that he obviously hoped she wouldn't detect. "Anyways, did you come to--"
"Visit Mom?" Mrs. Fonteyn finished the sentence for her little brother. She placed her arm around his shoulder, and they carefully sat down and discussed what had been recently happening to their deceased mother.
As they spoke, Mrs. Fonteyn thought about Victoria, an amazing girl who didn't deserve to have her life twisted so terribly. She knew how it felt to lose your mother, and it was a feeling that Mrs. Fonteyn thought nobody should ever experience. It was just so... dark, like the deepest, coldest part of the ocean. Who would want that?
Right then and there, Mrs. Fonteyn vowed that she would protect Victoria. It wasn't as if she were trying to stop a futuristic crisis from happening, but whatever the teacher could prevent, she would. Because from her experience, nothing was worse than losing your mom.
Nothing.
