Caroline the Ballerina

Written by Mitch

Email: mitch_work1@yahoo.com

Rating: G

Genre: General

Chapters: 5

Summary: This story is about Caroline's introduction to ballet.

Author's notes: This is the second in a series of mini-stories and stories about Caroline's past, based on references from the series. A common thread is pen pal Anke van Sant (introduced in "Caroline's First Crush"), a foreign student Caroline writes to for a grade school assignment, who becomes a lifelong friend. You can read this without having read "Caroline's First Crush" first, but there is an introduction to Caroline's pen pal, as well as one reference to an incident in CFC within this story. A special thanks to Eliza for the innumerable things she's done to help with this story. Characters' thoughts are written in italics.

Chapter 1

Margaret Duffy was holding eight year old Caroline's hand and walking down the sidewalk in the middle of Peshtigo. "Are you sure you want to start ballet, Caroline? There's gonna be a lot of practice. If you start, I have to pay for ten classes. I don't want you to start and then whine to me about quitting after two."

"I won't Mom. Sally said it's gonna be fun, she's gonna be taking the class."

"Well, alright then." They stopped at the studio. The door had painted on its front "Peshtigo School of Ballet". They entered the well lit room and looked around. It had a hardwood floor and brick walls painted white. Along the right wall, there was floor to head level mirror ten feet in width. Along the left wall were several large windows, with heavy red drapes tied open. Along both sides and the front (except at the door), a wooden pole ran the length of the walls, parallel to the ground, three feet off the floor and six inches from the walls. On a bulletin board on the front wall were posted class rules, pictures of previous classes, and photos of several famous dancers.

Several aluminum folding chairs were set up on the far side. No classes were going on at the time, but a couple girls, a few years older than Caroline, were practicing some dance steps. To the right, by the entrance, a trim 30-ish woman stood up from the desk at which she was sitting, and extended her hand.

"Hi. I'm Miss Morgan, the instructor for the class" she said as she and Margaret shook hands.

"Well, hello. I'm Margaret Duffy and this is my daughter, Caroline. We're here to register for your beginners' ballet class."

Miss Morgan stooped slightly towards Caroline. "Hi Caroline. I hope you'll have fun in my class."

Caroline turned her head to look at the other girls, smiled, and turned her head back. "I think I will."

"That's what I like, a positive attitude. Caroline, I see you're interested in watching the other girls practice. Why don't you watch them while I take care of some business with your mother."

"Okay" replied little Caroline.

As Caroline moved to watch the older girls practice, her mother began to speak to the instructor. "Caroline has never tried anything like this before, I'm not sure if she has any aptitude. I think she just wants to be in the class because her friend Sally is taking it."

"That's okay, Mrs. Duffy. Very few girls ever make it to prima ballerina. What I hope to do is instill a love of music and dance in my girls. If I can do that, they'll receive a lifetime of enjoyment. As far as practical benefits go, even if Caroline never dances professionally or even as a principal in a school play, she'll have the increased balance, poise, and grace she'll acquire from learning ballet, not to mention the discipline that learning it requires."

"Okay, you've convinced me. Where do I sign up?" Margaret responded.

"Here are the forms, Mrs. Duffy. As you fill them out, but before you sign, let me explain a few things. You pay for all ten classes of a term in advance. Once Caroline attends the first class, the money is not refundable."

"I heard that. That's why I want to make sure Caroline sticks with it, for at least awhile." She smiled at Miss Morgan. "At least I know the teacher won't drive her away."

Miss Morgan smiled back. "Thank you, Mrs. Duffy… What grade does Caroline attend in school, Mrs. Duffy?"

"Third. Why?"

The teacher picked up a sheaf of copied handout papers. "I'll give her the handout aimed at younger students, third grade and below. It shows the basic foot and arm positions, contains most of the ballet terms, as well as helpful hints on grooming and eating. We can be more productive during lessons if the girls are familiar with what we're trying to accomplish. Then we can spend more time during lessons actually physically practicing and correcting positions and movements. Also, there are clothing requirements" she said, as she pointed to page four. "Some are just for comfort, others are required to protect their young bodies."

Margaret read the list. "Okay, that won't be a problem."

Miss Morgan continued "Hair must be off the neck and securely pinned so that the neck line can be seen. Oh… I find it very useful if all clothing is labeled. It's hard to tell the difference between items."

"Alright then. That all sounds reasonable. Here you go." Margaret handed the filled out forms back to Miss Morgan.

"Thank you. You can bring the check with you to the first class, which will be next Tuesday at 3:30. Make it out to the "Peshtigo School of Ballet"."

While her mother had been talking to Miss Morgan, young Caroline watched with intense curiosity the older girls practicing. Caroline had never had an older female that she had patterned herself after. She had no older sisters. Her mother had always been… well, just Mom, the warm, caring, but commanding adult authority figure. Her playmates and friends were all girls her own age, still children.

While they practiced, the girls were a silent study of intense concentration. There was none of the noisy silliness Caroline and her friends always exhibited during their playtime. Their steps and arm movements appeared simple – but when she watched closely, Caroline could see they were anything but. Only the ease with which they performed the steps made it appear simple. The physicality of their actions, the grace and poise with which they performed jetés (jumps) and pirouettes (spins) deeply impressed Caroline. When the two stopped their practice to discuss some moves, Caroline turned and became interested by some pictures posted on the bulletin board.

As Mrs. Duffy turned to collect Caroline and go home, she saw her standing by the bulletin board.

"Who're they?" Caroline asked as she pointed to a black and white photograph.

Miss Morgan walked over to join Caroline. "They're Suzanne Farrell and Rudolf Nureyev, two wonderful dancers with the New York City Ballet."

"And her?"

"That's Gelsey Kirkland, prima ballerina with the American Ballet Theatre."

"She's so pretty! And who's he, he looks like he's flying!"

"That's Mikhail Baryshnikov. He does look like he's flying, doesn't he?"

Mrs. Duffy interrupted "C'mon Caroline. It's time to go home. You can look at the pictures again on Tuesday."

"Okay Mom."

Young Caroline's interest had been sparked.