Butterfly

  "The Cape. You would have loved it, Sanford. We took the sea route through Connecticut and rode along the ocean. I swear, with the wind blowing through our hair and the smell of the fresh salt air, felt like we could drive forever. Never come back."

  "And yet here you are. I dare not ask who the we was," Celine said as she wrinkled up her nose.

  "You dare not? Funny, Mother dared not either." "I'll bet," Sanford said with a small smile.

  "Actually, Sanford, she was a very pretty young damsel in distress when I found her, clothed and fed her, and bought her a motorcycle," Daniel told him between bites.

  "You bought a strange woman a motorcycle?" Celine asked with a grimace.

  "Actually, she wasn't so strange after a few days," Daniel said and winked at me again. "So, tell me all about yourself, Janet. How old are you?"

  "I'll be thirteen in a few weeks," I said hesitantly. Daniel seemed larger than life and having him concentrate his questions on me was making me nervous.

  "That old? You'll need to negotiate a retirement package as well then," he joked. "Seriously, are they treating you well here? Because if they're not, I have friends in high places and I can have things going your way in no time. They have to obey the rules of the Geneva Convention when it comes to prisoners."

  "But . . but I'm not a prisoner," I said quickly, looking from Sanford to Celine for help.

  "Will you stop it. You'll frighten her with your behavior," Celine said. She paused and then asked, "How are Mother and Father?"

  "Proper well," he said. He turned to me. "Our parents are slowly becoming statues. They sit still as granite and breathe only filtered air."

  "Daniel!" Celine chastised.

  "They're fine, they're fine. Of course, I saw them only for a few minutes before Mother started in on you know what," he said, nodding toward me.

  "That's enough," Sanford said sharply.

  "She should know what she's in for, what sort of family she has contracted to do business with, don't you think?" Daniel replied.

  "Please," Celine pleaded. He shrugged.

  "Okay, I'll be civil. Really. How do you like life here, Janet?" he asked me.

  "I like it a lot," I said.

  "And they put you in that snobby school?" "Peabody is not a snobby school. It's a special school with advantages," Celine corrected.

  "Did they tell you I went there but I was asked to please seek another place for my studies?"

  I shook my head.

  "My brother," Celine explained, "is what is generally known as a spoiled brat. No matter how much money my parents were willing to spend on him or what they were willing to do, he always managed to spoil it," she said, glaring at him.

  "I always did choke on that silver spoon," he said with another shrug. "Mildred," he called when she appeared, "you've outdone yourself with this veal. It's as succulent as a virgin's lips," he said, smacking his own lips together. Mildred turned bright pink.

  "Daniel!" Celine cried.

  "Just trying to be complimentary," he said, "and appreciative." He leaned toward me to whisper loudly. "My sister always complains that I'm not

  appreciative."

  I looked at Sanford, who put his silverware down a little harder than usual.

  "How are things at the printing company, Daniel?" Sanford asked.

  Daniel straightened in his chair and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  "Well, when I left for my vacation, we were down five percent from this period last year, which raised father's blood pressure five percent, but when I stopped by late today to pick up my mail, he told me we had been given the Glenn golf clubs account and that spiked us back to where we were, so his blood pressure improved. I swear his heart is connected to the Dow-Jones. If there's a crash, it's curtains," he said, slicing his forefinger across his Adam's apple.

  "You can ridicule him all you want, Daniel, but he built a successful business for you and a

  comfortable life for both of us," Celine scolded.

  "Yes, yes, I suppose so. I'm just having fun," he confessed to me. "Something my brother-in-law here doesn't have much of because he works too hard. All work and no play, Sanford," he warned. Then he gazed at me. "So," he said, "you're taking dance lessons, I hear."

  "Yes," I said softly.

  "And she's doing very well," Celine added.

  "That's nice." He sat back. "I must say, sister dear, you and Mr. Glass chose a little gem here. I'm impressed, Sanford."

  "We're very fond of Janet and we hope she's growing fond of us," Sanford replied, and I was glad to see him smile.

  "Are you?" Daniel asked me with that impish twinkle in his eyes.

  "Yes," I said quickly.

  He laughed.

  "Are you sure I can't take her for a little ride on the cycle?"

  "Absolutely sure," Celine said. "If you want to go out and be reckless, I can't stop you, but you won't be reckless with my daughter," she told him. "Not now," she added, "now that she's on the threshold of becoming someone very special."

  "Really?" Daniel said, gazing at me across the table. He smiled. "I would have thought she was already someone special. Even before she came here," he added, dazzling me with his smile

  I couldn't help liking him even though Celine's expression and harsh words made it clear she disapproved.

  After dinner Daniel and Sanford went off to the den to talk and Celine and I went to the living room, where she apologized for her brother's behavior.

  "Your new uncle is really good-hearted, but he's just a bit lost at the moment. We're doing our best to help him," she said. "It's difficult. His problem is he hasn't any goals. He has no focus, and that's the most important thing to have in life, Janet, focus and determination. He doesn't want anything enough to sacrifice and suffer some pain. He's too selfish and indulgent," she continued.

  She gazed up at her own portrait above the mantel and sighed.

  "We came from the same home, had the same parents, but sometimes, sometimes, he seems like a stranger to me."

  "Did he ever want to dance, too?" I asked.

  "Daniel?" she laughed. "Daniel has two left feet and he doesn't have the attention span to learn a single exercise. But," she said sighing again, "he's my brother. I have to love him."

  Then she looked at me.

  "And you're my hope," she said. "I will always love you."

  Knowing that Celine's eyes were always following me and that I was her hope made me try harder, but it also made me feel worse if I didn't please Madame Malisorf or Make progress as fast as I was expected to make it. The day after my uncle Daniel's explosive introduction, Celine had a doctor's appointment that ran late and kept her from attending my dance lesson after school. Without her sitting there in the corner, I felt a little more at ease, and even Dimitri seemed friendlier. Toward the end of the lesson, Madame Malisorf declared that tomorrow she would start me on pointe.

  "I don't understand why she's doing that," Dimitri declared after she had left for her next lesson. He was old enough to drive and had his own car. "She's the most demanding dance instructor in the area and doesn't easily put a student on pointe. Certainly never this early." He thought a moment. "She's probably just satisfying your mother. Your feet aren't even properly developed."

  "They are too," I said looking down at them to see if he was right.

  He wiped his face with the towel and stared at me. "I've always liked to watch young girls develop," he said suddenly.

  The way he was gazing at me made me very self- conscious. My leotards were as tight as his, and for the first time I was embarrassed by how much they revealed.

  "Are you developing breasts or is that just some baby fat?" he asked, jabbing his finger toward me.

  My breath caught in my throat and I jumped away from his reach.

  "You know, I've heard there's an avant-garde group of dancers who dance naked. Wanna try it?" he asked. After what he'd just done, I had no idea if he was kidding me or not.

  "Naked?" I co
uldn't imagine such a thing.

  "It's supposed to give you more freedom of expression. I really might try it one of these days," he said. "Well?"

  "Well what?"

  "You didn't answer my question, breasts or baby fat?"

  "That's very personal," I mumbled.

  "You shouldn't be ashamed of your body," he continued.

  "I'm not ashamed."

  "Do I look like I'm ashamed of mine? Am I hiding anything from you? That's right, look at me," he said, turning so he faced me fully. He smiled. "I remember how you looked at me that first day."

  I started to shake my head.

  "Don't deny it. Honesty is the most important characteristic for a dancer. Your honesty will be evident when you move. Madame Malisorf always says that Breasts or baby fat?" he pursued. He stepped closer to me.

  He smiled, his upper lip curling in to his now familiar sneer.

  "I could make you look very bad here, you know. Madame will take you off pointe in seconds. I don't think your mother would appreciate that, do you?"

  Tears clouded my vision.

  "What do you want from me?" I cried.

  "Let me decide for myself," he said and reached out to touch my chest. I was too frightened to stop him. "I'm still not sure. I'll tell you when I know," he added. I started to turn away from him, but he seized my leotard at the shoulder and began peeling it off before I could get away.

  "Stop," I begged him.

  "Ashamed?" He practically growled the word.

  "No, but please, don't" I pleaded.

  "If you don't let me see, I will ruin your first day on pointe," he threatened.

  I swallowed down the lump in my throat and froze, my heart pounding as he continued to lower my leotard until he could reveal my chest. He stood there staring at me. Then, very slowly, his eyes narrow and strangely dark, he touched me. I jumped back as if his fingers were filled with electricity.

  "Breasts," he concluded. "There, was that so difficult?" he asked and did a full pirouette, a leap, and a soft fall before heading out the studio door and leaving me behind, tears streaming down my cheeks, my heart pounding.

  I pulled up my leotard and followed him out. I remained in the shadows of the hallway until I heard him leave the house.

  "Is there anything wrong?" Mildred asked, seeing me cowering in a corner.

  "No," I said. "I was just resting."

  She tilted her head in confusion.

  I hurried down the hall, away from her questioning eyes, up the stairs, and to my room, shutting the door behind me quickly. I was still embarrassed and frightened by the experience in the studio. My legs were actually trembling. What frightened me the most was the feeling of being trapped and helpless. He could have stripped me naked and I would have been afraid to stop him. Why did he do it? Why did he take such advantage of me? Why didn't I cry for help? At least Mildred could have come to help me.

  I wiped away my tears and looked at myself in the mirror. No one had ever treated me as anything more than a little girl. No boy had ever thought of me sexually before as far as I knew. But now my breasts were budding. My time was coming. When Dimitri had touched me, I was terrified, but there was a strange new sensation as well. I wasn't sure if I was more afraid of him or what had happened inside me.

  How lucky other girls were, girls who had mothers and sisters to talk to at a moment like this, I thought. If I mentioned to Celine what had happened, it might create havoc with my dance lessons. Madame Malisorf might even walk out on us and then what would I do?

  How would I keep this a secret? What would it feel like to stand across from Dimitri tomorrow? I would be nervous enough as it was auditioning to begin on pointe. I couldn't help wondering if this was the first of many more experiences I would have to endure to please Celine.

  That, as much as anything else, caused me to be afraid of what tomorrow would bring.

  Eight

  I tossed and turned for hours that night, and when I finally did fall asleep, I had so many

  nightmares, I kept waking up in a cold sweat, and by morning I was actually shivering and the back of my neck ached. I fell asleep again just before I was supposed to get up and get ready for school. A soft knock at the door woke me. Sanford looked in.

  "You should be getting up, Janet," he said with a smile.

  I nodded and started to sit up when the ache traveled down my spine and I groaned. Sanford grew concerned and stepped into my room.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I don't feel so good," I complained. "My neck aches and I'm cold," I said through chattering teeth.

  He put his hand on my forehead and looked even more worried.

  "You feel like you have fever. I'll get a thermometer," he said and hurried out of the room. He was back in less than a minute and put the

  thermometer under my tongue.

  "I was afraid of this," he muttered. He paced as he waited. "You've been working too hard on your schoolwork and your dancing. You need more time to rest. You're growing, too, and all this is so new and frightening for you, I'm sure. No one listens to me, but I know I'm right about this:'

  He looked at the thermometer and nodded.

  "A hundred and one. That's a fever. You stay right there, young lady. I'm sending Mildred up with some aspirin for you. Does your throat hurt?"

  I shook my head.

  "No, just my neck and shoulders ache. And the backs of my legs," I added, but they were always aching so I didn't think anything special about it.

  He stared-al me a moment.

  "I've changed my mind. I won't give you aspirins yet. I'm taking you to the doctor," he decided. "Just throw something on, anything, I'll meet you downstairs," he added, and left the room.

  I got up slowly, washed my face, and dressed in an old flannel shirt and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. As I passed Sanford and Celine's room, I could hear their muffled voices. Celine sounded very upset.

  "What are you talking about?" I heard her say. "That's nonsense. People don't get sick from dancing too much."

  "I didn't say that was the only cause. The child's exhausted."

  "Nonsense. She's young. She has an unlimited well of energy," Celine insisted. I didn't have the strength to listen to more so I slowly made my way downstairs.

  When Sanford joined me in the entryway, he offered to carry me to the car, but I wasn't in that much pain and I felt silly with him just holding my arm as if I were some old lady.

  "I've already called Dr. Franklin. He's a good friend and he's coming into his office a little early just to see you first," Sanford explained.

  "Is Celine angry at me?" I asked. She hadn't even come to see how I was.

  "No, of course not. She's concerned, that's all," he said but quickly looked away.

  The doctor examined me and concluded that I had the flu. He didn't prescribe anything more than aspirin and rest. Less than an hour later, I was back in my bed, taking aspirin and sipping some tea.

  "I'll call from the factory," Sanford told Mildred. "Take her temperature in about two hours, okay?" "Yes sir," she said with a smile.

  I fell back to sleep and did have a better rest. I could have slept longer, but I sensed someone was in my room and opened my eyes to see Celine in her wheelchair at my bedside, staring at me.

  "You don't feel very warm to me," she said, taking her hand from my forehead.

  "I do feel a little better," I agreed, though I really still felt sore and tired.

  "Good. Don't worry about the schoolwork. I've already called and your work will be delivered to the house later this afternoon. Rest for the remainder of the day until your dance lesson," she added.

  "My dance lesson? But maybe I should wait until tomorrow, Mother," I said weakly.

  "No, no, you never cancel a lesson with Madame Malisorf. She cancels you. Do you have any idea how many other people are after her to work with their sons and daughters? This is a coup, a major accomplishment getting her to concentrate on you like this, and you're doing w
ell. She told me she had decided to put you on pointe. I'm so proud of you, dear. It took me years to go on pointe. Do you know that?"

  I shook my head.

  "Well, it did, so you see how talented you are:' "But I'm afraid I won't do well if I don't feel well," I moaned.

  "We must never let our bodies disappoint us, Janet," she insisted. "A dancer must be dedicated. No matter what, when it comes time to perform, you perfont'. I even danced on the day my grandmother died. I was very close to her. She favored me and had a lot to do with my parents' supporting my efforts to become a ballerina. I was sad but I had to dance and that was that. If I could dance on my grandmother's day of death, you can dance with a little ache and a little fever, Janet. Right? Right?" she pursued when I didn't reply quickly enough.

  "Yes," I said softly. I couldn't help but wish that Sanford was home to save me.

  "Good. Then it's settled. Rest until I call for you," she said and started to wheel herself out. "Actually, this is lucky. You were able to rest all day before starting your first lesson on pointe. See? Everything works out for the dedicated," she declared and left.

  She danced on the day her grandmother died, I thought. I never had a grandmother, not even a mother, but if I had them, I would love them too much not to be too sad to do anything if they died. I could never be that dedicated. Was there something wrong with me?

  Mildred came to take my temperature and told me it was under a hundred. I still had a dull ache at the back of my neck and I hadn't eaten much all day. I nibbled on some toast and jelly and a few spoonfuls of hot oatmeal. My stomach churned angrily with every morsel I swallowed and I knew if I tried to eat any more it would make me sick.

  Sanford sent a message that he hoped I felt better and apologized for having to remain at the factory. Mildred told me he said he had some major problems or he would have been home earlier.

  I fell asleep again and then I woke to the sound of Celine's stairway elevator chair. I waited, staring at my door. Moments later she came rolling into my room.

  "Time to get up, dear," she sang as if it was first thing in the morning. "Take a hot shower to warm up your muscles and put on your leotards and your pointe shoes."