Chapter Five: The Spice of Life
Φ
Leah
An ear piercing scream of terror!
I hurriedly blew out the candle and dropped it in my flight. I could only think of finding the girl who was in obvious peril. Had she been attacked by the ominous presence that had been hovering near me?
Hurtling towards the last echo of her screams in utter darkness, I collided with several walls. I didn't care. An instinct that I couldn't describe took complete control. I was driven to find her.
Just then, a pair of monstrous doors loomed before me. I rushed through them, uncertain of where I was running.
"Hello? Are you alright?" I called out with all the wind I could summon.
I was taken aback. I had no idea where I was, but my voice echoed in a vast space, fading into nothingness.
Then I caught a faint reply, from somewhere beneath me. Suddenly I was very glad I had stopped only a few feet from the doors. How far was it until the drop off?
"Ohmygawd! Sammie, did you hear that?" Came a light, crystalline voice.
That was the girl who was screaming! She didn't sound hurt! What was going on? And who on earth was "Sammie"?
"Holy Mother Mary! It's the ghost!" A squeal came from a slightly different direction.
"We're all going to die!" Said the first voice.
"Isn't the ghost a man? I thought it was a man." Another voice echoed somewhere nearer to the first.
"Who cares if it's a bushy-tailed squirrel? We're all going to die!"
"I'm too young to die!" Cried a fourth girl.
"Somebody save me!" Wailed a fifth.
A clamor of girls bemoaned their immanent deaths until they were abruptly silenced.
"Hush, you ninnies! Hello? Are you looking for us?" Answered a low, slightly raspy voice with an unusual accent.
"Um, perhaps? I heard your screaming. I thought someone was hurt."
There was a low peppering of titters and giggles from the faceless group below.
I felt like an idiot.
Not only was I completely unsure of where I was, I was yelling at the top of my lungs to a strange bunch of girls in utter darkness. And how could someplace so large not have any windows? It was barely 6:30 in the evening, but I couldn't see my hand in front of my face.
"Oh! No, no one is hurt. We were playing a game." It was the low, sensible voice again. I heard a hint of amusement in her tone at my reaction, and a tinge of embarrassment at admitting she was playing a game.
The giggles were back in full force.
I hated to ask, but there was no other way to find out what I wanted to know. "This is going to sound a bit odd, but where are we?"
Someone began to positively shriek with laughter.
How dare they! They must be chorus girls or ballet rats. Did they know who they were mocking? They had no right! What impertinence!
When I figured out where they were, I would give them something to scream about!
Φ
It took the girls some time to find me in the darkness of the theater proper, and by the time we met face to face, my temper had cooled noticeably.
So had my expectations of my fellow performers.
The moment they found me, I was surrounded by a giggling bunch of girls, most younger than myself. Introductions went by in a blur, and I was soon invited to dinner in the dormitory kitchens.
More than one way to skin a cat, I suppose.
Not that I would ever want to skin a cat, for I was rather fond of the creatures. But fondness was an attitude that I did not have when it came to my new acquaintances.
I had once thought that I would find friends here, yet the only thing I had found was a bunch of brainless ninnies who were an insult to ballet rats everywhere. It seemed the only topics to cross their minds were boys and parties.
The only tolerable ones in the entire group were Mademoiselles Keller and Giry. Both were older than me, but that didn't seem to make a great deal of difference to either of them.
Samantha Keller (the infamous Sammy of the little girl's cries) was the calm, rational voice who had first replied to me in the dark. She was petite, dark eyed and raven haired, with milky cream skin. She looked like a porcelain doll, but even after only a few moments' acquaintance, I knew that she was definitely not as she appeared.
I had been surprised to find out that she wasn't related to Madame Giry, as I could see pieces of the ballet mistress's personality in her fiery, no nonsense spirit. In spite of my earlier foolishness, she seemed to coolly accept my companionship.
If Samantha was a bit chilly, Bethany Giry made up for it ten times over.
The moment I met her, I felt as though I had just been wrapped in a warm embrace. Her smile was inviting, and her quiet manner was comforting, especially compared to the mindless chattering and foolish questions of all the younger girls. At first, I could not remember why she seemed so very familiar, but then it hit me.
She was the girl I had wanted to talk to on the day of my audition! Where was … there! Her little sister was trailing behind us. The little blond was a talkative child, babbling on about how much she was looking forward to dinner in the manner of any excitable eight-year old.
"…But Auntie Joanie won't be back till rehearsals are back, so Beth is cooking tonight. I think that she is…"
The elder Giry merely smiled and ruffled her little sister's blond hair. "Aunt Joanie is what we call Mme. Theed, the academy cook. She is one of our mother's best friends. She has a bit of a temper, so most of the girls are a bit wary of her, but Maman chalks it up to the fact that she has the natural spicy disposition of a red-headed Irish woman … though I'm not quite sure what she means by that…"
The kitchen door appeared as a bright rectangle of light in the darkness of the hall. What a sweet relief. I had been nervous and tense throughout our trek in the maze of black hallways. I hated the dark!
As we approached the inviting threshold, I grew curious. "Mam'selle Bethany, your sister mentioned something about you cooking this evening. What did she mean?"
"Firstly, if you are to be a member of the corps, there will be no more of this 'Mam'selle this, Mam'selle that'. You are a member of our family!" She spoke with mock sternness. "I am Beth, not Bethany, and you are Leah, no?" She smiled brilliantly, warming my heart with the sight.
"Oui, Beth."
"That is wonderful to hear, Leah. Now, as for your other question, oui, I cook meals when Mme. Theed is away. There are not many girls who remain in the dormitories during break, and cooking for them is good practice for making food for a family some day."
"You will help me, yes?"
WHAT?
Eric
I was heading for my apartments when I heard heated laughter.
Intrigued, I set my new purchases on the cold floor of the dark hallway. Stepping nearer to the wall, I slipped a small tile out of its place in the kitchen wall. In a long unused corner, the tiny peephole had often provided some of my most interesting insights into the dancers in the Opera's ballet corps. I had watched them laugh and cry here, growing remotely attached to the sounds of their familiar voices. I felt almost as though I knew them.
An idiot's dream, but an unquenchable one at that.
I sometimes found myself longing to join them, even though I knew the idea to be absurd. One look at my mask and half of those silly girls would have fainted dead away, leaving the other half to scream at the top of their tiny vocal ranges. The thought made me chuckle.
I suppose it was partially due to my own propensity to amuse myself at their expense.
They were really quite amusing, always jumping at every trick in the book. Spooky noises, moving shadows, whatever caught my fancy. Life without such simple diversions would have been too quiet.
"It has been some time since we last 'played', girls." I mused quietly as I watched several of the little dancers quibble back and forth with one another while cooking. A pot of marinara sauce simmered on the stove, unwatched, beneath my lookout.
"Perhaps you would like to sample some of my cooking, as it seems that you have abandoned yours."
I had bought some spices for my own cooking earlier that afternoon, and I now saw it to be a quite fortuitous purchase. I was not much of a cook, but I appreciated good seasoning as much as any true connoisseur. Well spiced food was one of the great joys in life."
I only hoped the ballet rats would agree.
Sliding the wall panel shut, I sighed, amused and a bit lonely all at once. Picking up my bags, I traveled further into the bowels of the Opera.
Φ
Camille- Of course I shall call you Camille ... but only if you will color me gray ... mmm, my name doesn't seem to work as a command nearly as well as yours does... Oh well! And as for the cliffhanger, all is fair in love, war and ... fanfiction? Sure, what the heck!
And we like you too, cause we think you are neat! Me, Leah, Eric with a 'c', and all the other little people in my head... hehe. Don't mind my twisted sense of humor, you'll get used to it if you keep reveiwing. And I hope you do keep reviewing, cause then you'll get more cheesecake! (she hands you a slice of cheesecake.) Enjoy!