Ice Castle
"Which do you like best?"
Kiminobu Kogure whirled around to find a handsome man standing beside him. He held two colorful containers in his hands and wore a friendly smile. "Spray? Or bottle?"
"Oh, no contest," he quipped with an equally friendly smile, adjusting his glasses. "Spray. That's what I use. I hate those bottles!"
"Hey, thanks for the advice," he replied pleasantly as he placed one of the containers back onto its shelf. "I've never tried the spray stuff, but it sure looks like it might be easier to handle than the bottle of saline I've been using."
He normally didn't pursue a conversation with a stranger, but he seemed like a nice enough guy and his comment intrigued him. He gave him a quizzical look. "What do you do for a living?"
"Skater," he replied casually, as his eyes scanned the fine print on the spray can.
"Skater? What kind of skater?"
"Ice skater. I'm in Kansas City with Ice Fantasy at the Kemper Arena. Our last performance is tonight."
Kogure turned to face him directly. "Really?" he asked in surprise, tipping the glasses off by a little. "I have tickets for tonight's performance. What numbers will you be doing? I'll watch for you." he offered while fixing his glasses.
He took a quick glance at his watch and dropped the spray can into the cart. "Wow! Didn't know it was getting so late. I gotta git. Thanks for the help." With a quick nod and a gorgeous toothy grin that highlighted his dimples, he took off down the aisle toward the row of checkout stands lining the front of the big discount store.
Kogure quickly lifted a hand and called out to him. "Wait! You didn't say which parts you'll be skating in the ice show!"
He stopped long enough to turn his head and call back over his shoulder as he moved with haste toward the cash register and the waiting clerk. "Prince Charming! I'll be the guy in white tights!"
At Kemper Arena, Kogure tightened his arms about his niece's slim shoulders as she wriggled, he adjusted his glasses as he held the squirming girl.
"Careful, Haruko. You might fall down at your rate."
Four-year-old Haruko lifted her shining face and smiled at her uncle. "Prince Charming's is going to appear, right?"
"That's right!"
"That's dumb!" Eight-year-old Hanamichi clamped his hands over his little sister's eyes and grinned at his uncle, who instantly pulled his hands away from the little girl's face.
"Hanamichi, stop! I wanna see the prince!" Haruko buried her face in her uncle's neck. "Uncle, make him stop!"
For several weeks now the young uncle had been excited about bringing his niece and nephew to the ice show, hoping it would somehow brighten their lives. Today marked an anniversary of sorts-- four years to the day Takenoriand Ayako had died. Four years, and Hanamichi was still having trouble understanding why his parents had been taken from them. It was good to see the children behaving normally, fussing at one another on a day that, otherwise, could be a sad one for all of them.
"Hanamichi, leave your sister alone. Try enjoying the show."
The kettledrums rumbled; the music swelled to a loud crescendo, then dropped again as a lone voice sang, "I'll find my love someday-- someday when my prince shall come..."
"There! There he is--he's coming!" Haruko tugged at her uncle's shirt with one hand and pointed to the far corner of the big arena with the other. "See him, Uncle? There! Right where the fog is thickest!"
Out of the fog in a flash of speed and grace, clad in gleaming white satin, skated Prince Charming in all his glory.
"That's him, Hanamichi! That's him, Prince Charming!" Haruko excitedly turned to her brother, who was sitting on the edge of his seat watching the male skater. "Keep practicing and you'll be able to do a spread-eagle like that." Kogure pinched his arm lightly. "Yours is pretty good already, for an eight-year-old."
As the music slowed to a romantic pace, so did the prince as he performed an audience favorite--a long, graceful spiral.
Suddenly the music stopped, and so did the performer. An aura of anticipation filled the air as the hall became silent and the heavy fog crawled swiftly across the ice, creeping into all four corners, eerily hovering around the feet of the prince as he caught sight of Snow White. He pushed off with one foot and glided slowly toward the sleeping beauty.
"Isn't he gonna kiss her and wake her up?"
Kogure smoothed his niece's hair and tried to mask his amusement as he viewed through slightly fogged spectacles eyes watery with concern. "Just wait, Haruko! Keep watching."
Deliberately, lovingly, the skater lowered his face to the maiden's pink lips with a gentle, lingering kiss, as a violin played softly.
Snow White's lashes fluttered. The dwarfs gasped and began chattering to one another. She blinked her eyes, then opened them wide as she sat up and stretched--first one arm and then the other--followed by an exaggerated yawn.
The prince took her dainty hand in his and lifted it to his lips as she lowered her feet to the ice and stood before him. The bright blue brodice of her snug-fitting dress accentuated her small waist as the flowing red skirt fluttered and billowed about her slender hips. The perfectly matched couple began to move to the music-- slowly at first, then more rapidly as they dance across the ice, the spotlight following their every twist and turn, ending with a CRÈME DE LA CRÈME , the phenomenal death spiral and a final kiss.
With the clanging of cymbals and the banging of kettledrums, the music ended. The bright lights shut off. The arena was encased in darkness as the crowd burst into the thunderous applause. Spotlights exploded forth, penetrating the blackness of the room, moving in erratic zigzag patterns across the ice in a brilliant assortment of colors. But Snow White and Prince Charming were nowhere to be seen.
Haruko tugged at her uncle's sleeve again.
Kogure smiled at his niece. "Be patient, Haruko." The beams of light moved collectively to the center of the ice and focused there as Snow White skated into the lighted area, lifted one side of her long red skirt, and curtsied. The audience went wild with applause.
Prince Charming skated into the circle of light and bowed low. Again the crowd went wild, cheering, whistling and clapping as they gave the pair a standing ovation. Then, out of the darkness, six miniature men skated into the light and dropped to their knees around the beautiful couple, enjoying their portion of the well-deserved applause.
Hanamichi counted aloud, "One, two, three, four, five, six. Somebody's missing!"
"It's Dopey!" Haruko shouted. "Where's Dopey?"
From a far corner, the little man skated clumsily into the spotlight, clutching a huge bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his stubby arms. When he lifted them to Snow White, she bent and kissed him on the nose, to everyone's delight.
Dozen of spotlights in every color of the rainbow began to weave intertwining ovals as the rest of the Ice Fantasy cast skated onto the ice to receive accolades. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the voice of the announcer echoed from the loud speakers as the houselights came on, "thank you for coming, and drive home safely. Good night."
A single hand wound it's way out from the bed sheets and punched the snooze button when the alarm clock jangled. Six a.m. was still dark. Saturday wasn't a school day, the kids could sleep in, but Kogure had to get up as early today as he did every other day of the week. He fumbled for the snooze button for the second time but decided against prolonging the agony and threw back the covers. Reaching out he took his glasses beside the alarm clock and rubbed his eyes before wearing them.
He'd barely finished his toast and was working on a glass of juice when he heard the key turn in the lock of the outside door and a tall, slender woman with salt-and-pepper hair entered the kitchen. "Morning, Mother Anzai."
The smiling woman placed a cookie sheet on the table and tugged at the fingers of her glove. "Morning, yourself. How was the ice show?" She lifted the linen napkin covering the pan. The aroma of hot, freshly baked cinnamon rolls loaded with caramel and pecans filled the country kitchen. "Can I tempt you with these?"
"Yes! Thanks, Mother Anzai." Kogure grabbed a sticky rolland bit it with delight. "When did you bake these? It's barely 6:15."
"Last night; reheated them this morning. I knew how hard this week would be for you. I wanted to do something special, to help you get through it. You'd better be going."
Kogure gulped his juice, wrapped the remainder of his cinnamon roll in a napkin, and wiggled into his heavy jacket. "See you at noon."
Once at the ice rink that he owned jointly with his in-laws, Kogure flipped on the string of lights and slipped into the little snack bar where the electric oil-filled heater waited to be plugged in. He filled the coffeepot, flipped the 'on' switch, and pulled his coat about his neck.
The buzzer on the outside door sounded. A quick look through the peephole revealed four mothers with four children, each child holding a pair of ice skates.Kogure lifted the the latch that held the door open as they filed in, one by one.
"Sure hated to get out of bed this morning," one of the mothers admitted as she sniffed the air. "Coffee smells good."
Kogure grinned and gestured toward the perking pot. "It'll be ready in a minute."
"Did you see the ice show in Kemper?" a yawning mother asked as she plopped onto a stool and leaned her head against the wall. "That Fujima Kenji is a real hunk."
"Skates good too." another added. "You agree, Kogure?"
Kogure nodded, then turned his attention to the sleepy children, who stood watching like zombies. "It's time for you guys to get those skates on. Your patch is waiting."
"Don't you ever get tired of getting up this early to let people in to skate?" a mother asked as she poured herself a second cup of coffee. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."
Kogure pulled a caramel-covered pecan from his roll and looked thoughtful. "No, not really. Working at this rink makes it possible for me to take good care of the children and be home with them when they need me. I can't complain."
After their parent's death, Kogure had insisted that he carry his share of the load. His father-in-law couldn't handle it by himself. Their agreed-upon arrangement had worked out perfectly, with Mrs. Anzai serving as the willing, available baby-sitter. Haruko was three weeks old when Takenori and Ayako died in the plane crash; she never knew about her parents.
In the little office with its clear view of the rink, Kogure sat and punched the calculator while adjusting his glasses. Father Anzai ran the afternoon and evening skating sessions, but he was the one who tallied and recorded the sessions and filled out bank deposits, just as Takenori had when he was alive.
He watched with amusement as an overweight girl in her midteens struggled with her three-turns as her mother gruffly barked advice from the first row.
It was five minutes past noon when Kogure slipped quietly through the kitchen door. A pot of homemade vegetable beef stew simmered on the stove. Mother Anzai's sweet voice could be heard as she sat in the rocking chair reading SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS to an appreciative four-year-old. The young uncle walked silently into the roomand seated himself carefully on the sofa beside Hanamichi. Mother Anzai looked up, but Haruko was too engrossed in the story to notice Kogure.
"And they lived happily ever after. The end!" Mother Anzai announced with a flourish as she closed the book.
Haruko kissed her grandmother's cheek before leaping off her lap and into her uncle's. Kogure cradled his nephew to his chest and said gratefully, "Thanks, Mother Anzai. You're very special."
His mother-in-law crossed the room and squeezed Kogure's shoulder affectionately. "So are you. Enjoy the soup."
Kogure watched as she pulled on her coat and headed for her own home, only a hundred feet from theirs. Since Takenori's and Ayako's deaths, she had been coming over 6:15 every morning to care for the children so Kogure could open the rink for the 'patchers,' as they called them. By now, it was a ritual. Kogure would return home, eat, and then take some of the soup to Father Anzai. He'd eat, bid him goodbye, and head for the rink in time to open at 1:30. At 4:00, 4:30, and 5:00 o'clock,he would give private lessons, then run home for a bite of supper and be back to the rink by 6:30 to give a group lesson. Then he would open for the evening session at 7:30. But it was Mother Anzai who kept them all going. She worked quietly in the background, caring for the children all morning so Kogure could work and be home with them for the rest of the day.
When Kogure rolled out of bed Sunday morning at seven, a luxury he enjoyed only once a week, Mother Anzai was sitting in the kitchen sipping freshly brewed coffee. "How long have you been here? Why didn't you wake me?" the young Kiminobu poured himself a mug of hot coffee and plopped into the oak pressed-back chair.
"Came over early. I didn't mind the wait-- I knew you could use the extra sleep. Besides, it's Sunday."
The young man wearily rose to his feet and pulled on his heavy jacket. "That means I'd better hustle if I'm gonna close out last night's receipts."
"Want me to go with you, Uncle?" Hanamichi stood there, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, his feet covered with the worn cowboy boots he loved so much.
Kogure reached out a hand and grinned at his nephew. "Sure! I'd love the company."
The rink seemed exceptionally cold when they entered. He set about counting the admissions and preparing the bank deposit. Hanamichi placed the nickels, dimes, and quarters in the tray, counting them aloud as he deposited each coin. The two were startled by the sound of the buzzer. He checked his watch: 7:45. Maybe one of the skaters forgot what day of the week it was; who else would be buzzing on Sunday?
"I'll get it!" Hanamichi volunteered as he jumped from the stool and raced toward the door, ready to fling it open.
"No, Hanamichi! Wait!" his uncle cautioned, his hands full of dollar bills, half-counted. "Don't open the door!"
Hanamichi climbed onto a chair and peered out the peehole.
"Uncle Kogure!" he shouted as he leaped from the chair and ran toward his uncle, a broad smile dominating his shining face. "It's Prince Charming! He's at our door!" He grabbed his uncle by the arm and dragged him from the stool. "Aren't you going to let him in?"
Kogure drew back. "Hanamichi; stop! Prince Charming wouldn't be at our door, especially time time of morning. It's Sunday. He's miles from here right now."
Hanamichi was relentless. "Yes, he is, Uncle. Honest! It's him; I know it it. Come and see!" He released his hold and ran back to the peephole as the buzzer sounded a second time.
Kogure placed the money tray and the loose bills in the drawer and locked it securely, then hurried to the door. Sure enough, there stood Prince Charming, waiting patiently.
"See, Uncle? I told you so!" Hanamichi tugged at the dead bolt on the door as his uncle stood gazing out the peephole. "Uncle, he's cold! Let him in!"
Kogure took one last look, then opened the door.
"Hi." The handsome skater smiled at the dazzled young man and his nephew. "I saw your car parked by the door and hoped someone would be here. Do you rent ice time here at the Ice Palace?"
Hanamichi yanked at his sleeve. "Uncle-- say something."
"Yes. No. I mean, yes, we do, but not on Sunday." he felt like a dork as he stood in the doorway, his hair barely combed, his frayed jacket zipped to the neck. He was sure he did not recognize him, not the way he looked.
The man smiled at Hanamichi. "Hey, kid, you a skater?"
Hanamichi returned his smile. "Yep. But not as good as you."
"Oh, you've seen me skate, have you? At the show here in Kansas City this week?" He stuffed his hands deeply into his pockets and shivered.
Kogure blushed and stepped back. "The building is cold, but at least the wind isn't blowing in here."
He strode in and closed and locked the door behind him. He should have been frightened, but after all, he had met him before, if only for a minute. And he was Prince Charming; surely Prince Charming would do them no harm.
"Let me introduce myself--officially." he winked at Hanamichi as he extended a gloved hand. "I'm Fujima Kenji."
Hanamichi stood straight and tall and reached out his hand to shake the skater's. "Hi, I'm Akagi Hanamichi. This is my uncle, Kiminobu Kogure."
Fujima Kenji shook the small hand vigurously. "Pleased to meet you, Hanamichi. What a fine, well-mannered young man you are." Then, looking at the boy's uncle, the man did a double take. "You're the man I met at Wal-Mart!"
Frozen to the spot, he responded with a dull, "Uh-huh," and nodded his head and wished he didn't look so dowdy.
"Well, then, Mr. Kiminobu, you may know Kansas City was the last stop on our tour; we've been traveling for two years with this production. I have three weeks off before we begin rehersals for the new show." He looked at the boy. "I'm here to visit my parents, Hanamichi. They live in Overland Park. I need to start practicing my new role as the Beast." he laughed, screwed up his face and crossed his eyes. "I'd like to stay in Kansas City and spend time with my parents. But, I have to find an available rink in this area or I'll have to go on to Florida to begin practice."
Kogure listened intently, trying to keep her mind from wandering to thoughts of him skating so beautifully in that white satin costume.
"So, I'll take any time you have available. And of course, I'll pay whatever the going rate is. I'd like to have at least an hour a day-- more if I can get it."
"Uncle..." Hanamichi nudged his side with his elbow.
"I'll-- uh-- have to ask my father-in-law," he responded weakly, still in shock at seeing the prince. "But I'm sure he'll work something out for you." He pulled Hanamichi in front of him and wrapped his arms about him, almost like a shield.
"I need to get started as soon as I can. Tomorrow, if possible." He grabbed the boy by the hand. "Hey, Hanamichi. How about showing me the ice?"
Hanamichi pulled away from his uncle and led the man toward the big double doors. "Sure," he said with youthful enthusiasm.
Kogure hurried to the phone and called Father Anzai. "What do YOU think about this, Kogure? It'll have to be early in the morning-- that's the only time an hour or more is available. You'll have to stay there with him. Are you willing to be there by 5:15? That's pretty early."
He grinned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What's the difference?-- 5:15, 6:15, early is early! And he's willing to pay whatever we ask," he added as he peered through the windows of the double-doors and watched his nephew's mouth moving rapid-fire. How he wished he could hear his conversation with the man.
"It's fine with me, Ho ho ho." he agreed.
The double-doors swung open, and the man and boy came strolling through, laughing and talking like old friends. Sadness welled up in Kogure's heart. How much his nephew had missed without a father or mother to talk to and be with.
Kenji raised his brows. "Well, what's the good word?"
He smiled, first at Hanamichi, then then skater. "If you can come mornins by 5:15, you'll have a whole hour. Is that acceptable?"
He rubbed his hands together briskly. "Great. And thanks, I appreciate it. I think my folks will, too."
He moved towards the door and unlocked it. "Hope I didn't keep you too long." he ruffled Hanamichi's hair with his big hand before stepping throught the open door. "See ya at 5:15 tomorrow morning!"
Hanamichi ran to his uncle and gave him a bear hug. "Wow! Prince Charming! Wait'll I tell the kids at school!"
Fujima Kenji sat in his car with the motor running, listening to the radio and thinking of his future. He checked his watch: five o' clock. He'd arrive early, anxious to start practicing his new assignment as the Beast. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel in time to the music. What if Mr. Kiminobu had forgotten about him? No, not likely. He had a feeling he was more responsible than that. He'd liked the man immediately, but he had wondered why anybody would allow their son to be out this time of the morning, meeting with a stranger.
A bread truck pulled into the parking lot and stopped next to his car. The driver waved, placed boxes of buns on the empty rack standing beside the door, and drove off. Headlights splashed across Kenji's face as a minivan pulled into the parking lot and parked beside him. The lone occupant, a man, opened the door and stepped out. He smiled, waved to him, and turned off the engine.
Kogure returned his smile, waved back, and moved to open the door. He followed him in, shut the door, and turned the dead bolt. A sudden chill ran down his spine; he was locked in the building at 5:15 in the morning, alone with a man he barely knew. He moved quickly to turn on the long string of florescent ceiling lights, and the area was instantly flooded with a harsh, glaring brilliance. He could feel his eyes watching him as he stood silently near the door.
"Okay if I go on in and get my skates on?" he asked.
Suddenly he felt ridiculous. This was a business arrangement. He was there to practice--nothing else. "Sure. Of course," he called back over his shoulder and headed toward the snack bar. "You drink coffee? I'll have something ready in a few minutes." But his words were wasted; he'd already disappeared into the rink to lace up his skates.
When the coffee finished dripping, he poured two steaming mugfuls and slipped quietly throught the double doors. There he was, etching perfect figure-eights onto the ice.
"Come and take time out for a cup of coffee. It'll help warm you up," he invited as he placed his mug onto the smooth railing that surrounded the ice.
He finished the figures, then glided silently toward him and sipped the coffee. "Umm, good. Thanks." he leaned against the railing and held the warm mug between cold hands. With his skates on, he was nearly a head taller than Kogure, and he had to look up to see his smile.
"I know you don't know much about me, Mr.Kiminobu, but I want you to assure you-- I AM trustworthy." he took a big swallow of coffee and grinned at him.. "You're perfectly safe with me."
He lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid his eyes. Had he sensed his fear? It wasn't that he was afraid; it was just that he hadn't been this alone with anyone since Takenori and Ayako died, and there was something so intimate about meeting strange man in a deserted Ice rink at 5:15 in the morning.
"I know...I...uh...don't mean to keep you. From skating I mean." He felt himself stumbling over his words.
He took a last swig and gave a chuckle. "You're not. I needed the coffee. Thank you," he said warmly.
"I'll go back to the office and give you some privacy," he explained as he pulled his scarf about his neck and began to head towards the doors with the empty mugs.
"I'm used to skating before an audience, remember?" He did a quick twil and added, "Honest; I'd like you to stay. Maybe you could help me with this routine."
"Uh... sure." He lowered himself into the front row seat. "What can I do?"
He winked a friendly wink. "I'll let you know."
He tightened the loop on his scarf, button the top button on his jacket, and pulled his gloves onto chilled, stiff fingers, then watched in awe as the professional skater went through an old routine to loosen up. He stopped at the far end of the rink and stood watching him, then skated with strong, quick strokes directly toward him. As he came within a few feet, he quickly turned the edges of his blades into the rink's surface and showered the empty chair next to him with a blizzard of finely shaved, snowy ice. "NOW you can help me," he said with a mischievous laugh.
He brushed a few stray ice fragments from his sleeve and returned his smile. "How?"
He pulled an audiotape from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. "Can you put this on for me?"
He crossed the rink, load the tape player, and punced the "play." The theme song from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST filled the rink as he began to skate. He slipped back into his chair and watched in amazement. From time to time he'd stop, listen to the music, and start again, as though recieving instructions from some unseen source.
The hour was up all too soon, but he quit right on time.
"All right with you if I leave the tape here?"
"Sure," he mumbled as he sat down beside him and began to loosen the lace on his skates.
"How about the skates?"
"Uh, I'll lock them up in the office," he volunteered.
The buzzer sounded on the outside door. The first group of regulars were ready to begin their patch session. Kenji allowed the skaters to enter before exiting through the door, then close it behind him.
"Who was THAT?" one of the mothers asked as she riveted her eyes on the closed door.
"Prince Charming," Kogure said coyly with a wink, leaving the stranger's true identity to their imaginations.
"Which do you like best?"
Kiminobu Kogure whirled around to find a handsome man standing beside him. He held two colorful containers in his hands and wore a friendly smile. "Spray? Or bottle?"
"Oh, no contest," he quipped with an equally friendly smile, adjusting his glasses. "Spray. That's what I use. I hate those bottles!"
"Hey, thanks for the advice," he replied pleasantly as he placed one of the containers back onto its shelf. "I've never tried the spray stuff, but it sure looks like it might be easier to handle than the bottle of saline I've been using."
He normally didn't pursue a conversation with a stranger, but he seemed like a nice enough guy and his comment intrigued him. He gave him a quizzical look. "What do you do for a living?"
"Skater," he replied casually, as his eyes scanned the fine print on the spray can.
"Skater? What kind of skater?"
"Ice skater. I'm in Kansas City with Ice Fantasy at the Kemper Arena. Our last performance is tonight."
Kogure turned to face him directly. "Really?" he asked in surprise, tipping the glasses off by a little. "I have tickets for tonight's performance. What numbers will you be doing? I'll watch for you." he offered while fixing his glasses.
He took a quick glance at his watch and dropped the spray can into the cart. "Wow! Didn't know it was getting so late. I gotta git. Thanks for the help." With a quick nod and a gorgeous toothy grin that highlighted his dimples, he took off down the aisle toward the row of checkout stands lining the front of the big discount store.
Kogure quickly lifted a hand and called out to him. "Wait! You didn't say which parts you'll be skating in the ice show!"
He stopped long enough to turn his head and call back over his shoulder as he moved with haste toward the cash register and the waiting clerk. "Prince Charming! I'll be the guy in white tights!"
At Kemper Arena, Kogure tightened his arms about his niece's slim shoulders as she wriggled, he adjusted his glasses as he held the squirming girl.
"Careful, Haruko. You might fall down at your rate."
Four-year-old Haruko lifted her shining face and smiled at her uncle. "Prince Charming's is going to appear, right?"
"That's right!"
"That's dumb!" Eight-year-old Hanamichi clamped his hands over his little sister's eyes and grinned at his uncle, who instantly pulled his hands away from the little girl's face.
"Hanamichi, stop! I wanna see the prince!" Haruko buried her face in her uncle's neck. "Uncle, make him stop!"
For several weeks now the young uncle had been excited about bringing his niece and nephew to the ice show, hoping it would somehow brighten their lives. Today marked an anniversary of sorts-- four years to the day Takenoriand Ayako had died. Four years, and Hanamichi was still having trouble understanding why his parents had been taken from them. It was good to see the children behaving normally, fussing at one another on a day that, otherwise, could be a sad one for all of them.
"Hanamichi, leave your sister alone. Try enjoying the show."
The kettledrums rumbled; the music swelled to a loud crescendo, then dropped again as a lone voice sang, "I'll find my love someday-- someday when my prince shall come..."
"There! There he is--he's coming!" Haruko tugged at her uncle's shirt with one hand and pointed to the far corner of the big arena with the other. "See him, Uncle? There! Right where the fog is thickest!"
Out of the fog in a flash of speed and grace, clad in gleaming white satin, skated Prince Charming in all his glory.
"That's him, Hanamichi! That's him, Prince Charming!" Haruko excitedly turned to her brother, who was sitting on the edge of his seat watching the male skater. "Keep practicing and you'll be able to do a spread-eagle like that." Kogure pinched his arm lightly. "Yours is pretty good already, for an eight-year-old."
As the music slowed to a romantic pace, so did the prince as he performed an audience favorite--a long, graceful spiral.
Suddenly the music stopped, and so did the performer. An aura of anticipation filled the air as the hall became silent and the heavy fog crawled swiftly across the ice, creeping into all four corners, eerily hovering around the feet of the prince as he caught sight of Snow White. He pushed off with one foot and glided slowly toward the sleeping beauty.
"Isn't he gonna kiss her and wake her up?"
Kogure smoothed his niece's hair and tried to mask his amusement as he viewed through slightly fogged spectacles eyes watery with concern. "Just wait, Haruko! Keep watching."
Deliberately, lovingly, the skater lowered his face to the maiden's pink lips with a gentle, lingering kiss, as a violin played softly.
Snow White's lashes fluttered. The dwarfs gasped and began chattering to one another. She blinked her eyes, then opened them wide as she sat up and stretched--first one arm and then the other--followed by an exaggerated yawn.
The prince took her dainty hand in his and lifted it to his lips as she lowered her feet to the ice and stood before him. The bright blue brodice of her snug-fitting dress accentuated her small waist as the flowing red skirt fluttered and billowed about her slender hips. The perfectly matched couple began to move to the music-- slowly at first, then more rapidly as they dance across the ice, the spotlight following their every twist and turn, ending with a CRÈME DE LA CRÈME , the phenomenal death spiral and a final kiss.
With the clanging of cymbals and the banging of kettledrums, the music ended. The bright lights shut off. The arena was encased in darkness as the crowd burst into the thunderous applause. Spotlights exploded forth, penetrating the blackness of the room, moving in erratic zigzag patterns across the ice in a brilliant assortment of colors. But Snow White and Prince Charming were nowhere to be seen.
Haruko tugged at her uncle's sleeve again.
Kogure smiled at his niece. "Be patient, Haruko." The beams of light moved collectively to the center of the ice and focused there as Snow White skated into the lighted area, lifted one side of her long red skirt, and curtsied. The audience went wild with applause.
Prince Charming skated into the circle of light and bowed low. Again the crowd went wild, cheering, whistling and clapping as they gave the pair a standing ovation. Then, out of the darkness, six miniature men skated into the light and dropped to their knees around the beautiful couple, enjoying their portion of the well-deserved applause.
Hanamichi counted aloud, "One, two, three, four, five, six. Somebody's missing!"
"It's Dopey!" Haruko shouted. "Where's Dopey?"
From a far corner, the little man skated clumsily into the spotlight, clutching a huge bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his stubby arms. When he lifted them to Snow White, she bent and kissed him on the nose, to everyone's delight.
Dozen of spotlights in every color of the rainbow began to weave intertwining ovals as the rest of the Ice Fantasy cast skated onto the ice to receive accolades. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the voice of the announcer echoed from the loud speakers as the houselights came on, "thank you for coming, and drive home safely. Good night."
A single hand wound it's way out from the bed sheets and punched the snooze button when the alarm clock jangled. Six a.m. was still dark. Saturday wasn't a school day, the kids could sleep in, but Kogure had to get up as early today as he did every other day of the week. He fumbled for the snooze button for the second time but decided against prolonging the agony and threw back the covers. Reaching out he took his glasses beside the alarm clock and rubbed his eyes before wearing them.
He'd barely finished his toast and was working on a glass of juice when he heard the key turn in the lock of the outside door and a tall, slender woman with salt-and-pepper hair entered the kitchen. "Morning, Mother Anzai."
The smiling woman placed a cookie sheet on the table and tugged at the fingers of her glove. "Morning, yourself. How was the ice show?" She lifted the linen napkin covering the pan. The aroma of hot, freshly baked cinnamon rolls loaded with caramel and pecans filled the country kitchen. "Can I tempt you with these?"
"Yes! Thanks, Mother Anzai." Kogure grabbed a sticky rolland bit it with delight. "When did you bake these? It's barely 6:15."
"Last night; reheated them this morning. I knew how hard this week would be for you. I wanted to do something special, to help you get through it. You'd better be going."
Kogure gulped his juice, wrapped the remainder of his cinnamon roll in a napkin, and wiggled into his heavy jacket. "See you at noon."
Once at the ice rink that he owned jointly with his in-laws, Kogure flipped on the string of lights and slipped into the little snack bar where the electric oil-filled heater waited to be plugged in. He filled the coffeepot, flipped the 'on' switch, and pulled his coat about his neck.
The buzzer on the outside door sounded. A quick look through the peephole revealed four mothers with four children, each child holding a pair of ice skates.Kogure lifted the the latch that held the door open as they filed in, one by one.
"Sure hated to get out of bed this morning," one of the mothers admitted as she sniffed the air. "Coffee smells good."
Kogure grinned and gestured toward the perking pot. "It'll be ready in a minute."
"Did you see the ice show in Kemper?" a yawning mother asked as she plopped onto a stool and leaned her head against the wall. "That Fujima Kenji is a real hunk."
"Skates good too." another added. "You agree, Kogure?"
Kogure nodded, then turned his attention to the sleepy children, who stood watching like zombies. "It's time for you guys to get those skates on. Your patch is waiting."
"Don't you ever get tired of getting up this early to let people in to skate?" a mother asked as she poured herself a second cup of coffee. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."
Kogure pulled a caramel-covered pecan from his roll and looked thoughtful. "No, not really. Working at this rink makes it possible for me to take good care of the children and be home with them when they need me. I can't complain."
After their parent's death, Kogure had insisted that he carry his share of the load. His father-in-law couldn't handle it by himself. Their agreed-upon arrangement had worked out perfectly, with Mrs. Anzai serving as the willing, available baby-sitter. Haruko was three weeks old when Takenori and Ayako died in the plane crash; she never knew about her parents.
In the little office with its clear view of the rink, Kogure sat and punched the calculator while adjusting his glasses. Father Anzai ran the afternoon and evening skating sessions, but he was the one who tallied and recorded the sessions and filled out bank deposits, just as Takenori had when he was alive.
He watched with amusement as an overweight girl in her midteens struggled with her three-turns as her mother gruffly barked advice from the first row.
It was five minutes past noon when Kogure slipped quietly through the kitchen door. A pot of homemade vegetable beef stew simmered on the stove. Mother Anzai's sweet voice could be heard as she sat in the rocking chair reading SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS to an appreciative four-year-old. The young uncle walked silently into the roomand seated himself carefully on the sofa beside Hanamichi. Mother Anzai looked up, but Haruko was too engrossed in the story to notice Kogure.
"And they lived happily ever after. The end!" Mother Anzai announced with a flourish as she closed the book.
Haruko kissed her grandmother's cheek before leaping off her lap and into her uncle's. Kogure cradled his nephew to his chest and said gratefully, "Thanks, Mother Anzai. You're very special."
His mother-in-law crossed the room and squeezed Kogure's shoulder affectionately. "So are you. Enjoy the soup."
Kogure watched as she pulled on her coat and headed for her own home, only a hundred feet from theirs. Since Takenori's and Ayako's deaths, she had been coming over 6:15 every morning to care for the children so Kogure could open the rink for the 'patchers,' as they called them. By now, it was a ritual. Kogure would return home, eat, and then take some of the soup to Father Anzai. He'd eat, bid him goodbye, and head for the rink in time to open at 1:30. At 4:00, 4:30, and 5:00 o'clock,he would give private lessons, then run home for a bite of supper and be back to the rink by 6:30 to give a group lesson. Then he would open for the evening session at 7:30. But it was Mother Anzai who kept them all going. She worked quietly in the background, caring for the children all morning so Kogure could work and be home with them for the rest of the day.
When Kogure rolled out of bed Sunday morning at seven, a luxury he enjoyed only once a week, Mother Anzai was sitting in the kitchen sipping freshly brewed coffee. "How long have you been here? Why didn't you wake me?" the young Kiminobu poured himself a mug of hot coffee and plopped into the oak pressed-back chair.
"Came over early. I didn't mind the wait-- I knew you could use the extra sleep. Besides, it's Sunday."
The young man wearily rose to his feet and pulled on his heavy jacket. "That means I'd better hustle if I'm gonna close out last night's receipts."
"Want me to go with you, Uncle?" Hanamichi stood there, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, his feet covered with the worn cowboy boots he loved so much.
Kogure reached out a hand and grinned at his nephew. "Sure! I'd love the company."
The rink seemed exceptionally cold when they entered. He set about counting the admissions and preparing the bank deposit. Hanamichi placed the nickels, dimes, and quarters in the tray, counting them aloud as he deposited each coin. The two were startled by the sound of the buzzer. He checked his watch: 7:45. Maybe one of the skaters forgot what day of the week it was; who else would be buzzing on Sunday?
"I'll get it!" Hanamichi volunteered as he jumped from the stool and raced toward the door, ready to fling it open.
"No, Hanamichi! Wait!" his uncle cautioned, his hands full of dollar bills, half-counted. "Don't open the door!"
Hanamichi climbed onto a chair and peered out the peehole.
"Uncle Kogure!" he shouted as he leaped from the chair and ran toward his uncle, a broad smile dominating his shining face. "It's Prince Charming! He's at our door!" He grabbed his uncle by the arm and dragged him from the stool. "Aren't you going to let him in?"
Kogure drew back. "Hanamichi; stop! Prince Charming wouldn't be at our door, especially time time of morning. It's Sunday. He's miles from here right now."
Hanamichi was relentless. "Yes, he is, Uncle. Honest! It's him; I know it it. Come and see!" He released his hold and ran back to the peephole as the buzzer sounded a second time.
Kogure placed the money tray and the loose bills in the drawer and locked it securely, then hurried to the door. Sure enough, there stood Prince Charming, waiting patiently.
"See, Uncle? I told you so!" Hanamichi tugged at the dead bolt on the door as his uncle stood gazing out the peephole. "Uncle, he's cold! Let him in!"
Kogure took one last look, then opened the door.
"Hi." The handsome skater smiled at the dazzled young man and his nephew. "I saw your car parked by the door and hoped someone would be here. Do you rent ice time here at the Ice Palace?"
Hanamichi yanked at his sleeve. "Uncle-- say something."
"Yes. No. I mean, yes, we do, but not on Sunday." he felt like a dork as he stood in the doorway, his hair barely combed, his frayed jacket zipped to the neck. He was sure he did not recognize him, not the way he looked.
The man smiled at Hanamichi. "Hey, kid, you a skater?"
Hanamichi returned his smile. "Yep. But not as good as you."
"Oh, you've seen me skate, have you? At the show here in Kansas City this week?" He stuffed his hands deeply into his pockets and shivered.
Kogure blushed and stepped back. "The building is cold, but at least the wind isn't blowing in here."
He strode in and closed and locked the door behind him. He should have been frightened, but after all, he had met him before, if only for a minute. And he was Prince Charming; surely Prince Charming would do them no harm.
"Let me introduce myself--officially." he winked at Hanamichi as he extended a gloved hand. "I'm Fujima Kenji."
Hanamichi stood straight and tall and reached out his hand to shake the skater's. "Hi, I'm Akagi Hanamichi. This is my uncle, Kiminobu Kogure."
Fujima Kenji shook the small hand vigurously. "Pleased to meet you, Hanamichi. What a fine, well-mannered young man you are." Then, looking at the boy's uncle, the man did a double take. "You're the man I met at Wal-Mart!"
Frozen to the spot, he responded with a dull, "Uh-huh," and nodded his head and wished he didn't look so dowdy.
"Well, then, Mr. Kiminobu, you may know Kansas City was the last stop on our tour; we've been traveling for two years with this production. I have three weeks off before we begin rehersals for the new show." He looked at the boy. "I'm here to visit my parents, Hanamichi. They live in Overland Park. I need to start practicing my new role as the Beast." he laughed, screwed up his face and crossed his eyes. "I'd like to stay in Kansas City and spend time with my parents. But, I have to find an available rink in this area or I'll have to go on to Florida to begin practice."
Kogure listened intently, trying to keep her mind from wandering to thoughts of him skating so beautifully in that white satin costume.
"So, I'll take any time you have available. And of course, I'll pay whatever the going rate is. I'd like to have at least an hour a day-- more if I can get it."
"Uncle..." Hanamichi nudged his side with his elbow.
"I'll-- uh-- have to ask my father-in-law," he responded weakly, still in shock at seeing the prince. "But I'm sure he'll work something out for you." He pulled Hanamichi in front of him and wrapped his arms about him, almost like a shield.
"I need to get started as soon as I can. Tomorrow, if possible." He grabbed the boy by the hand. "Hey, Hanamichi. How about showing me the ice?"
Hanamichi pulled away from his uncle and led the man toward the big double doors. "Sure," he said with youthful enthusiasm.
Kogure hurried to the phone and called Father Anzai. "What do YOU think about this, Kogure? It'll have to be early in the morning-- that's the only time an hour or more is available. You'll have to stay there with him. Are you willing to be there by 5:15? That's pretty early."
He grinned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What's the difference?-- 5:15, 6:15, early is early! And he's willing to pay whatever we ask," he added as he peered through the windows of the double-doors and watched his nephew's mouth moving rapid-fire. How he wished he could hear his conversation with the man.
"It's fine with me, Ho ho ho." he agreed.
The double-doors swung open, and the man and boy came strolling through, laughing and talking like old friends. Sadness welled up in Kogure's heart. How much his nephew had missed without a father or mother to talk to and be with.
Kenji raised his brows. "Well, what's the good word?"
He smiled, first at Hanamichi, then then skater. "If you can come mornins by 5:15, you'll have a whole hour. Is that acceptable?"
He rubbed his hands together briskly. "Great. And thanks, I appreciate it. I think my folks will, too."
He moved towards the door and unlocked it. "Hope I didn't keep you too long." he ruffled Hanamichi's hair with his big hand before stepping throught the open door. "See ya at 5:15 tomorrow morning!"
Hanamichi ran to his uncle and gave him a bear hug. "Wow! Prince Charming! Wait'll I tell the kids at school!"
Fujima Kenji sat in his car with the motor running, listening to the radio and thinking of his future. He checked his watch: five o' clock. He'd arrive early, anxious to start practicing his new assignment as the Beast. He drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel in time to the music. What if Mr. Kiminobu had forgotten about him? No, not likely. He had a feeling he was more responsible than that. He'd liked the man immediately, but he had wondered why anybody would allow their son to be out this time of the morning, meeting with a stranger.
A bread truck pulled into the parking lot and stopped next to his car. The driver waved, placed boxes of buns on the empty rack standing beside the door, and drove off. Headlights splashed across Kenji's face as a minivan pulled into the parking lot and parked beside him. The lone occupant, a man, opened the door and stepped out. He smiled, waved to him, and turned off the engine.
Kogure returned his smile, waved back, and moved to open the door. He followed him in, shut the door, and turned the dead bolt. A sudden chill ran down his spine; he was locked in the building at 5:15 in the morning, alone with a man he barely knew. He moved quickly to turn on the long string of florescent ceiling lights, and the area was instantly flooded with a harsh, glaring brilliance. He could feel his eyes watching him as he stood silently near the door.
"Okay if I go on in and get my skates on?" he asked.
Suddenly he felt ridiculous. This was a business arrangement. He was there to practice--nothing else. "Sure. Of course," he called back over his shoulder and headed toward the snack bar. "You drink coffee? I'll have something ready in a few minutes." But his words were wasted; he'd already disappeared into the rink to lace up his skates.
When the coffee finished dripping, he poured two steaming mugfuls and slipped quietly throught the double doors. There he was, etching perfect figure-eights onto the ice.
"Come and take time out for a cup of coffee. It'll help warm you up," he invited as he placed his mug onto the smooth railing that surrounded the ice.
He finished the figures, then glided silently toward him and sipped the coffee. "Umm, good. Thanks." he leaned against the railing and held the warm mug between cold hands. With his skates on, he was nearly a head taller than Kogure, and he had to look up to see his smile.
"I know you don't know much about me, Mr.Kiminobu, but I want you to assure you-- I AM trustworthy." he took a big swallow of coffee and grinned at him.. "You're perfectly safe with me."
He lowered his gaze to the floor to avoid his eyes. Had he sensed his fear? It wasn't that he was afraid; it was just that he hadn't been this alone with anyone since Takenori and Ayako died, and there was something so intimate about meeting strange man in a deserted Ice rink at 5:15 in the morning.
"I know...I...uh...don't mean to keep you. From skating I mean." He felt himself stumbling over his words.
He took a last swig and gave a chuckle. "You're not. I needed the coffee. Thank you," he said warmly.
"I'll go back to the office and give you some privacy," he explained as he pulled his scarf about his neck and began to head towards the doors with the empty mugs.
"I'm used to skating before an audience, remember?" He did a quick twil and added, "Honest; I'd like you to stay. Maybe you could help me with this routine."
"Uh... sure." He lowered himself into the front row seat. "What can I do?"
He winked a friendly wink. "I'll let you know."
He tightened the loop on his scarf, button the top button on his jacket, and pulled his gloves onto chilled, stiff fingers, then watched in awe as the professional skater went through an old routine to loosen up. He stopped at the far end of the rink and stood watching him, then skated with strong, quick strokes directly toward him. As he came within a few feet, he quickly turned the edges of his blades into the rink's surface and showered the empty chair next to him with a blizzard of finely shaved, snowy ice. "NOW you can help me," he said with a mischievous laugh.
He brushed a few stray ice fragments from his sleeve and returned his smile. "How?"
He pulled an audiotape from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. "Can you put this on for me?"
He crossed the rink, load the tape player, and punced the "play." The theme song from BEAUTY AND THE BEAST filled the rink as he began to skate. He slipped back into his chair and watched in amazement. From time to time he'd stop, listen to the music, and start again, as though recieving instructions from some unseen source.
The hour was up all too soon, but he quit right on time.
"All right with you if I leave the tape here?"
"Sure," he mumbled as he sat down beside him and began to loosen the lace on his skates.
"How about the skates?"
"Uh, I'll lock them up in the office," he volunteered.
The buzzer sounded on the outside door. The first group of regulars were ready to begin their patch session. Kenji allowed the skaters to enter before exiting through the door, then close it behind him.
"Who was THAT?" one of the mothers asked as she riveted her eyes on the closed door.
"Prince Charming," Kogure said coyly with a wink, leaving the stranger's true identity to their imaginations.