Chapter III
A dancing wolf maid
The blue rose in the box had lost some petals since she arrived in Paris, almost two weeks ago. The first thing she did when jumping off the hay cart was looking where she would live. An inn was too expensive and renting wasn´t even on the table. Apolline had recommended her to look somewhere she could pay for her meals, her staying and so forth, yet Odette wasn´t too sure about how she´d manage to attend classes during the day and work for a living at the same time.
The only chance was to work at night or during weekends
Thinking like this, she looked for taverns where they´d be either set to hire underage girls for how much cheaper it was, or unscrupulous enough to have them as barmaids and waitresses to entertain the night while the customers´ purse grew thin. Odette was especially weary of this last type of job.
Finally, she came to this unusual tavern managed by a middle aged woman with her older brother, "Britain´s Bride" was the name of it, the first to the right on the Rue Royale and the seventh Odette visited looking for a job; the woman was named Orlena and her brother Philippe; much as the tavern, they were both British, and Odette couldn´t help but wonder if they had welcomed her when she said she´d clean the privy till its wood shone like the emperor´s or when she mentioned her status as a ballerina student.
That evening, Odette understood why. Orlena and Philippe hosted noisy night parties, where every customer was like family, they usually where either Irish or British with the occasional French popping by to see what was the cause of such merriment, for Orlena could dance to the tune of traditional folk fiddle, jabbing and stomping on top of chairs and tables, making Odette marvel at her freedom of performance and truly taste the sweet liqueur of improvised dancing that flourished from the heart.
She wrote so to Hugo and Apolline, who wrote back saying the proposal she refused to ask about before she left was on their impending marriage, which they planned to celebrate in winter so she could join them together with the rest of the villagers, along with the letter came a small papermade box.
"Forgot to put it in the box together with the rose little one. It´s meant to remind why you´re there, so you don´t get discouraged" – wrote Hugo "See you in winter"
The package contained a small howling wolf pendant that tinkled whenever she moved and earned a few intrigued looks from her bosses, who now called her the wolfmaid, playing with the "barmaid" word. Their teasing could have irritated Odette if she hadn´t been so absorbed by the academy.
Ballet was tough, it was an art, true. But there was technique and science to it; Odette obsessed with perfecting the right moves, the exact position even when Florance, her school tutor, asked her to ignore it altogether until she had found the grace to perform.
-Else you´ll look like you´re about to break; your toes must be iron hard but flexible as sallow branches.
-But if I don´t perfect it, I´ll never get to the Opera- whispered Odette under her breath.
-The Opera House accepts only the best; if there´s no beauty to your dance I seriously doubt you´ll ever get there
Yet the girl who somehow smelled of roses wasn´t even close. Florance suggested not to starch her tutu until her movement was more fluid, the rich mist-like fabric concealed how stiff Odette was.
-Careful though- warned Florance, -the material left starchless is highly flammable but as long as you keep your skirts out of the lamp´s gas reach, you should be fine.
Well, that wouldn´t be a problem, if Odette didn´t show progress on her somehow good technique but graceless movements, she would stay at the backstage forever.
Philippe advised her in his own way, of the little he knew of ballet but of the expert he was as a fiddler.
-Violin also is an art you know, and requires a lot of technique to be played amazingly; but in the end, art requires feelings and that´s what makes it memorable- he lectured her, -Many artists had probably been the best performers but what your audience takes to heart is what you said with your music or with your dance.
-Humans were made to feel my darling – added Orlena filling the jars on Odette´s tray with cold foaming Irish beer and strong amber whisky in small crystal shot glasses, -Anyone who believes otherwise is tragically mistaken.
-Hey girl!- demanded a customer.
-You´re being summoned wolfmaid- said Philippe with a smile as he took his violin out and made "Britain´s Bride" famous for yet another night of homeland´s fiddling.
Odette shrugged and for nights in a row, after she´d cleaned and everybody was gone, she would put her tutu on and danced through the tavern on her ballet pointes, her wolf necklace jingling in every turn and every twirl, the blue nightlight coming from the windows diminished the yellow light coming from the hearth and the wooden roof candlewheels, massive wine barrels were stacked up the back wall. For an instant, Odette thought she was on her own stage, one she had built herself with tired muscles, broken bones with tears and with blood, where the firebreath of her dragon couldn´t get her for she was faraway, in a place where only stars shone, wolves howled and ballerinas danced… it was all covered in blue velvet.
Odette opened her eyes, Orlena had a hand on her lips and tears running down her cheeks.
-I think you´ve found it girl- she said trying to get hold of herself, -That was truly beautiful…-she wiped her face using her apron, -You were dreaming of something.
Odette froze, she hadn´t really said anything about her past and frankly, doubted she ever would. But the tone in Orlena´s voice demanded for some kind of answer and from her point of view, Odette could say any stupid thing with just the right trembling volume in her voice and Orlena would fall for it.
-My dream was blue – there, it was stupid and it wasn´t really a lie… yet like many things, it wasn´t the whole truth… but it still had the amount of it Orlena needed and the one Odette was willing to give.
The tavern owner nodded knowingly and picked some trays up to take them upstairs.
-Mine are red, Philippe says it´s because I´m too passionate. What do you think?
-It´s because you are red-
Orlena seemed confused, but then smiled and turned around to leave.
After that night Florance noticed her dancing had improved exponentially, but nonetheless Odette refused to have her tutu starched
-It´s tradition. Now you´ll look sloppy- she argued.
-You think? - Odette retorted, -I think my skirts look like the snow dust a wolf leaves when they run.
Florance was about to say nothing could be farther from any normal person´s imagination but the girl interrupted her:
-I know I still have a lot to learn, and I still need to perfect many aspects of my dancing but I want you to consider issuing a recommendation letter for me, addressed to the Ballet Academy at the Opera House.
Florance´s frown made her brows look as one single line.
-Please- she asked joining hands in front of her, -I´ll work hard, if I´m accepted it´ll lift the level of the school plus you´d get to be among the best ballet tutors in the city.
Florance gazed at her pupil´s big almond shaped eyes, "the color of midnight sky" she thought once, sparkling with that inner wild strength she had about her… and she believed in her, may God had mercy on her, she believed in her.
-Alright, but no guarantees Odette. I´m not really that big within the Opera House or in high ballet circles- she pointed out, wanting the flowery smelly girl´s full attention, -And even if you do get there, it´ll only be harder.
-I know, and I also wanted to ask you for something else…
Florance crossed her arms in front of her chest
-I´d like…- she started, barely a whisper.
-¿Huh? Louder girl-
-I´d really appreciate…if…- Florance could hardly hear her, Odette´s toes traced small circles on the floor
-Gracious God, is that pendant just for show? Howl girl!- the tutor shouted.
-I´d like to have the old blue jars that are in the storage! – Odette shouted back, Florance was pleased
-What for?
-My employer said every good barmaid gets to add a bit of decoration to the tavern; makes the place look quainter. And I want to put those jars in.
Florance thought it weird, but said nothing as she gave her permission not before asking the address of her working place, promising to go whenever she had the time.
Odette brought five jars back and before Orlena could say anything about her strange decoration idea, the girl knotted some old ropes she found next to a dock by the river, making five sort of nests for each jar and tied them up to the roof, the jars dangled along the joists and candlewheels.
-They look like huge blue honeycombs- said Orlena
-Well, Odette- pointed her brother, -you sure added the weirdest deco…up until now the Fleurdelisé flag over there had been the strangest thing in here, someone even painted up some of the chairs and tables in sky blue and put an anchor in that corner…
-Anything from the wolfmaid- retorted Orlena teasingly, Odette rolled her eyes.
For the next few weeks her ballet became increasingly appealing and her technique perfected, Florance said her recommendation wasn´t that far ahead.
-Hey Odette- said Orlena one evening, her devilry low tone making Odette rather uncomfortable, -Have you ever been actually in the Opera House?
-No- she said, not knowing what to expect.
-Well, I happen to have tickets to see their next play "Romeo and Juliet", they say the next ballet prince will perform as the protagonist.
-I don´t care about princes- she said honestly, -If I happen to go, my eyes will be on Joan D´Autrelle the whole time.
-You´re not funny girl, I think is that skinny form of yours, if you had a bit more curves…-
-Lena, that´s an invitation to the Opera, right? - Odette interrupted genuinely amused, her blue eyes blazed in diversion.
-Well- Orlena decided to pull her strings a bit more –Let´s make a bet: if you win, I´ll take you to the Opera with the tickets, if I win… I will starch your white tutu!
Odette opened her mouth to protest but thought better
-You know how much I love my white tutu…
-Of course! That´s what makes it fun silly– voiced Philippe.
-Alright, we´ll compete over what? - asked the girl, knowing she had no way out.
-Over the number of customers who ask for either the bartender or the wolfmaid!- suggested Philippe as he finished polishing his violin.
-No way- said Orlena, -Everybody loves to be served by the girl that reeks of roses.
-I don´t reek!
-But you do smell of roses! – Orlena retorted, more than once she had tried to find the good quality perfume in Odette´s room that lasted all day long. But it was useless, she had come to accept the blatant truth of the girl´s scent.
-Fine, fine… how about the amount of tips? Cash only
That was interesting, Orlena would tend the customers that looked wealthier but Odette´s slender frame would look after more tables.
-Works for me.
-Right
Said both at the same time.
When "Britain´s Bride" opened, both would look at their tables with hungry eyes, so much so that Philippe thought they´d scare customers away or at least someone would try to cross and overstep the boundaries with Odette, and since Orlena could take care of herself, both siblings had often had to punch some faces without the girl noticing; even so, Odette was no simple-minded little dancer. She had mastered the use of her heavy serving tray as a flying weapon on her own, and her flowy sapphire skirt would fly away of the trespasser´s table.
The competition was just for fun, Philippe realized, there was no way his sister wouldn´t take Odette to the function.
Odette threw some coins to her cash stack as well as a couple of tickets to the theatre a guy gave her intending to take her out, but she just grabbed them both and thanked him as she walked away.
She hurried to tend another, very crowded table of about eight people, almost getting on each other´s laps as they tried to fit in the little corner on the platform top at the back of the bar. She approached without going up the couple steps that separated her from them.
-Hey yoh!
-It´s the wolfmaid!
-What can I do for you? - she asked politely, trying her nickname didn´t get her nerves.
-Eight beer pints, the best you have! We´re celebrating!
-Of course- she said, turning to leave and avoid the irritating green look in one of them, not much older than herself, with curly auburn hair.
-Get ahold of yourself man! – laughed one of them.
-Connor is all drooling over the little woman!
-I´m not!- he said in a sorry attempt of defense, -Why do you call her wolfmaid?
-No idea
-She´s wild!
-I heard she ate someone´s hand off after he tried to… you know what.
-That must be it!
More laughs
Odette steadied herself next to the big beer barrel as she filled the pints, trying to think of nothing but the "Romeo and Juliet" ballet play.
A/N Hey guys! Is this worth it?
Did you like it?
Please let me know!
Anyway, I´m updating two chapters because my town´s having a bit of wifi difficulties