Dancing in the Dark

Chapter 8: Spiraling

At nine in the evening, the town exploded. The children jumped down their apartment steps, squealing in excitement. The fathers, exhausted from a day of hard labor, fell to the seats around the stage. Mothers of higher classes held their noses up, their tiny girls waddling behind, a ribbon decorating their hair. The boys wore a frock coat, their pressed, pleated shirts puffing from the folds of their clean cut collars. Hazel watched the melding of people colliding together to watch the circus. This was by far the biggest area they had used. From the entrance of the town square to the exit into the industrial lands, the whole area was full of Magical Feet. Henry stood at one entrance, Neal at the other, collecting fares from their customers. It was the first time Hazel saw such a collection of peasants and workers and upperclassmen. Usually the peasants could not afford to go to such events, but it was Christmas and people were merry and generous. Hazel waited outside the women dressing cart in the train. A surge of female acrobats exited, glaring at Hazel and waving to the ecstatic crowd. Hazel stepped forward. She brought her golden attire with her and her clutch. She did not know why she had bought it, but it supplied her with unexplainable comfort. Hazel entered the cart after sparing a glance nervously at the growing crowd. She stepped inside the low ceiling area and stared at the female performers around her. They all chattered excitedly, and most were bearing all to show. Hazel felt uncomfortable at their ease and turned toward the wall. She undressed quietly, hoping she would not draw any attention to herself. Hazel picked up the gold dress and ran a hand over it longingly. How she wished Nathaniel could have saved her. She did not know what to do now. She could not go. Hazel slipped the dress on. It was fabulous clothing, a round neckline with a tightened waist and a flowing skirt. Hazel twirled to test out the dancing ease.

"Oh look who is showing off!" someone snorted, and Hazel blushed wildly.

She quickly removed her ballet flats. They were periwinkle and mostly broken. She tucked them into her clutch and left the cart before anyone could stop her.

Hazel passed the animals that were now put up for everyone to see. She smiled at Cierra

the elephant and chatted with the parrots. Onlookers whispered about her dress and it hit her then that the Ash Girl should not be wearing something so extravagant. She rushed over to Jasmine, making sure her feline friend was not still mad at her. The crowd was around her, some daringly poking their fingers into the cage. Some called her a beautiful gift. Others called her ugly, or stupid. Hazel approached the cage, rushing through the crowd and planting her hands on either side of the cage.

"Jasmine," she whispered, and the lion lifted its golden eyes. They immediately flicked away.

"I am staying," Hazel whispered, knowing not why the lions opinion mattered to her so.

Jasmine looked up again and then stood up, making the onlookers step back.

Jasmine pressed her nose against the bars, and the crowd hooted in surprise.

In a moment, they were silenced. Jasmine let out a painful roar, one that sent the townspeople staggering and left Hazel shell-shocked.

"I thought you would be happy," Hazel said desperately, clasping her hands together.

Jasmine growled and led herself to the back of the cage, curling up once again and closing her eyes.

Hazel bartered a mismatched, dingy poncho from a peasant in the crowd and made her way to the stage. The performance would start any moment now, and she wanted to make sure she did her very best. Though she despised him, Hazel could not let Neal's perfect plans fall to the dust. She practiced jumping on her right foot, her posture straight, her arms stretched in the air to support her. From fifth position, Hazel brought her right leg to the front. She sprung straight up, her legs closed tightly together once she hit the air, tilting slightly backward. Hazel landed confidently on her left foot, throwing the right to the front. She ran through chasses, a gliding step that she felt she could never give enough elegance to. When she paused to take a break, Jacqueline stepped from the shadows and clapped. Hazel smiled, though the slowness of her applause made it seem somewhat mocking.