Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 5

     The air from inside the studio knocks me over when I walk in. It's different, charged somehow with the electricity of girls waiting to be seen. I walk into the dressing room and see every single girl from my class. Some are chattering nervously about the judges or the show or if their leotard makes their butt look too big. Others sit silently in the corner, their eyes wide with fear and their pale faces peeking out from under too much blush.

    I take in my classmates, and then I shut them out. This is my time. I put in my headphones, and Alice's score floods through me. I'm already warm, but I stretch anyway, just to have something to do. I'm halfway through the first act before someone comes in. The judge reads from a clipboard and calls out our name and assigns us a number. Abbott, 1; Adams, 2; Brennan; 3. She continues down the list, but I've stopped listening. It's a blessing and a curse, having a name that comes along early in the alphabet. Today I don't know which it is. I push the thought out of my mind and strip off my warm-ups. I glance at myself in the mirror as I walk into the room. It's a Saturday, and it's early, so the studio has't had time to warm up yet. We scurry silently to the bar, and Madame strides in with the ballet master Russell Kaiser, the director of the ballet Jeff Winters, and the three Principles playing the Red Queen, the White Rabbit, and the Knave. Sarah Fowler, Jackson Harris, and Robert Seever. Madame looks us over, gives a tight smile, and nods.

    "Plies" she says., "three demi, two grande, combre forward, same in second, port de bras into the barre, tendu fourth, port de bra away from the barre, tendu fifth, combre back, eleve, and balance." She turns to the pianist, signals him, and the music begins.

     It's a combination Madame has given us before, which leaves us free to prepare ourselves even more for the audition. Our bodies go through the motions while our minds race ahead. The music ends and we turn again to the front. Madame leads us through tendues, then degages, then ronde de jambe, then fondue, then grande battements. All the combinations she gives us are ones we've done before. She calls us to center floor. She clears her throat and buttons her cardigan. Warm up is done, now the real test comes. She fires allegro at us like she never has before. Brand new combinations each with its own set of counts and accents. We try to keep up, some of us doing a better job than the others. We finish the last allegro, and Madame moves us into Adagio. Our bodies move slowly, so slowly, unbearably slowly. Our legs stretch and our arms reach. Sweat drips down our backs, but our faces stay calm. We fight to be air. At last, adagio is over, and we line up along the side of the room.

     Madame tells us that we will be called forward in groups of three to perform a combination, then we will do the same combination individually.

Individually.

     For a moment, I'm startled. In every dance class I've been in, I've considered the class to be a single unit. One body of dancers moving and breathing as one. I glance over at Clarissa at the end of the line. She's bent over to tuck in her ribbon that hasn't moved since the beginning of the audition; pressing all the way over on her box to show off her arch. I look up to see Jackson Harris noticing the same thing. Idiot. I think. Stupid Erin. This isn't a team sport, this is a competition. You aren't here to run with them, you're here to soar above them. If you want Alice, you need to fight against yourself and them. I grit my teeth, and turn back to Madame. 

     It's a hard combination, but it's one that I'll be good at. Lots of footwork, a few quick jumps, a triple pirouette, a leap and a balance. It shows off my balance and downplays my arches. I'm in the first group. The music starts and I plunge into the music. My feet barely touch the floor and hold the balance for a half count longer than my group just to show the judges that I can. The girls shoot me resentful looks, and I try to ignore them. It isn't about them. I remind myself. This is my shot.

     The rest of the groups move through the combination, some doing worse than I did, and some doing about what I did, but nobody surpasses me. The last group finishes, and Madame turns to us.

     "Now individually. Starting with Julia". Julia steps forward, and performs the combination. She's good but too soft. And her knee starts to turn in midway between her second and third pirouette. Maggie steps forward next. She misses the second beat on the jump and that makes her early for the pirouette. Then it's my turn. I inhale and push aside all thoughts of classmates, or directors, of casting. There is only me and the music. I take off into the combination, cleaner and crisper than I was the first time. I hang in the air, suspended in the highest, strongest leap I've ever done. I hold the balance a full count longer. I land, I breathe. I cross upstage to line up behind Julia and Maggie. The other girls follow behind me but I don't see them. I'm invincible. The last girl finishes, and Madame steps forward.

     "Thank you all very much for your hard work today. We will do a short reverence, and then please exit to the dressing room. The cast list will be posted Monday after class. Please find a spot in the center." We file in from the wall. Normally I take my spot in the back corner, but today I step front and center. The music starts and I follow Madame along with the music. I curtsy. I rise. Madame nods and I exit.