Chapter 3. Dido and Magda

The repairs to the roof vent had been made, and life quickly and quietly went back to normal. If anything in the theater can be deemed normal. Linda had been right, one did get use to a way of life very quickly. Sarah was finding that out for herself. She had not accepted the changes to be so swift, but by the end of the first week she was getting used to the schedule. It was early to bed, and early to rise for the cast of the play. Sarah and Linda would go to an early dance class before going into the theater for the day's rehearsals.

On Monday morning, the beginning of the second week of rehearsals, there seemed to be a feeling of excitement among the cast. Sarah noticed the entrance of two women who seated themselves in the back of the theater. The one was an older woman, with long graying hair that was held back in a long braid that went down to the center of her back. She was dressed in long belted peasant blouse and a long brown suede skirt with brown knee boots. Even from a distance Sarah could tell the woman didn't wear makeup, not a speck. Still there was something commanding about her quiet presences. She radiated a regality that no makeup could enhance. The younger woman seated with her was her complete opposite. She was dressed in very dark garments, had jet black dyed hair, white face makeup and dark red lipstick. She also had a diamond stud in her nose, and looked extremely bored. Papa moved to speak to them, the older woman made some comment and the younger one just yawned. Papa nodded, and left them.

Sarah grabbed Jeremy's arm as he was moving past her. "Is that Dido?" she asked.

Jeremy looked where she was directing his vision and smiled. "Oh yes," he murmured. "Seems she's got herself a new assistant, oh joy," he said in a sarcastic undertone. "Just what we need a faux vampire seamstress. Lord only knows what kind of costumes that pair is going to come up with for the production."

Watching as her mother and Jeremy ran through their lines, Sarah would cast a glance toward the pair sitting in the audience now and then. She didn't see even a flicker of expression on either face. She nearly missed a cue as she was trying to figure the pair out. She moved onto the stage, again without a script in hand and spoke her lines clearly and with great feeling. So into the part was she, she missed the first flicker of expression of interest Dido showed. The woman leaned forward, placing a hand on the back of the seat before her. Her mouth dropped slightly, and was quickly closed again. She began to speak in a fury of Russian to her assistant who answered in the dark and difficult language. Even before the scene was finished, Dido was snapping her fingers to get Papa's attention. He met her half way in an aisle and listened to her.

Turning toward the stage he motioned his assistant to halt the scene. "I need my two queens." He said in a loud and demanding tone, and then a wicked smirk came to his lips. "And I don't mean you Nancy boys in the chorus." His comment drew a chuckle from the entire cast as Linda and Sarah left the stage to join the director. He stood beside the woman with the braid as they waited for the mother and daughter.

Linda whispered to Sarah; "Be polite." The girl nodded as they neared the woman who was watching her move.

Papa held a hand out to his Tatiana, Sarah placed her hand in his without hesitation. "Dido, this is Sarah Williams…."

The woman held up a hand, halting his introduction. "No need, a fool can see she is the child of our dear Linda." She looked a Linda with an indulgent simper. Her large dark eyes were still a vibrant brown, soul piercing and all encompassing. Her English was crisp and precise, yet held the traces of an accent that was difficult to pinpoint. She raised one hand to Sarah's chin to appraise the child. "Lovely." She declared turning to her assistant. "What do you think Magda?"

Magda rolled her eyes, sighed and said in a very disinterested voice; "Yeah, she's cute." Her voice was hard, raw and most definitely New York.

Dido turned to Papa, "I've some costume ideas I need to go over with you." She looked at Sarah. "You shall be a pleasure to dress." She looked at Linda, her eyes coolly inspecting the older actress. "You, no more frenched fries," she warned in a harsh tone.

"Slave driver," Linda growled still there was a friendly gleam in her green eyes.

"Fry addict." Dido snapped back turning her head, her braid snapping like a whip. The costume designer pursed her lips as she looked again at Sarah; "Truly lovely." Her hand still holding Sarah's chin stroking it once before releasing the child from her fingers.

"Thank you, ma'am," Sarah whispered turning to go, her wrist was clutched and she was halted.

"I would prefer you stayed put," Dido commanded, as she turned to Linda. "This concerns you as well, seeing the girl is new to our way of life, and she is your daughter. You must guide her."

Sarah wondered if she appeared truly green to the actor's life. She could not imagine what was so important.

Dido snapped her fingers and the assistant moved toward them with a group of sketched for the Director to inspect. "I've made some changes to the costumes, as we discussed. Now seeing this lovely creature I have something in mind for her scenes with the Donkey headed Bottom." She pulled a sketch and handed it to Papa.

He looked at the sketch, then over at Sarah, handing the sketch to Linda. "It's rather shocking isn't it?" Dido murmured a comment about him wanting this production to be unlike any other. He nodded, looking at the sketch. "That I did, that I did."

"Wow." Linda said blinking.

Sarah wondered what the fuss could be about, "I think maybe I should see this." She spoke up.

Dido nodded, amused by the boldness displayed by the young woman; "Of course." She handed the sketch to the girl. "You are the one who will be wearing this creation, and you should know what it is."

Sarah looked down and gasped; "Holy cow!" She exclaimed looking at the revealing sheer costume that the designer envisioned. "Are you kidding?" She was gasping for air. "There's barely anything there!"

"You will look heavenly." Dido stated in a tone that refused argument.

"My father will have a fit." Sarah handed the sketch back, thinking not so much of what Robert's reaction would be. She was more worried about the reaction and repercussions from Karen. This sketch would tax her conservative sensibilities to the max.

"So don't tell him." Magda said snapping the gum in her mouth. Her voice was snide and harsh and very hard.

Dido held out her hand, the assistant spit the gum out. The designer frowned at her and said something to her in quick and hard Russian. The Goth girl answered in Russian that sounded strangely of a very New York tone of voice and enunciation. Turning to Sarah the woman said kindly. "You will be entirely discreet, I promise."

Sarah looked at the sketch in the hand of the older woman, "I beg to differ."

Amused Dido went on. "Are you ashamed of your lovely body?"

"No." Sarah said feeling suddenly quite naked. "I don't think so."

"Then you must allow me to show it off properly." Dido waved her hand in the air in a grand sweeping motion. "I will dress you like a Queen!"

Papa was smirking, "I'll tell you what Sarah," He offered. "If once you try the costume on and are uncomfortable, we can put you in a nude body stocking under it."

Sarah looked at the costume once more and shook her head. "I don't think Daddy should come in to see the play."

"Bull," Linda said boldly. "Robert is not that provincial Sarah! Hell he took me to see Hair when we were dating and he even got up on the stage buck naked himself!"

"Karen is that provincial," Sarah warned. "And I'm still living with them technically, remember?"

"Details," Dido flustered her hands waving in the air. "Wait until you see my beautiful costumes. Wait until you are draped in fabric soft as a butterfly's wing, and shimmering like moonbeams. Everyone who looks upon you will believe you are a Fairy Queen."

Sarah took the sketch once more. "It is breathtaking." She admitted. "Okay. I'll try it on." She looked over at the director. "Papa, I'm going to hold you to that offer of a body stocking."

Dido snapped her fingers. "Magda, take our Tatiana to the dressing rooms and take her measurements. Take good and careful measurements, I want this to fit like second skin."

"Yeah, yeah;" The Goth girl looked at Sarah with little interest. "Come with me." She began to walk toward the dressing rooms as if she owned the theater.

Dido waited until the two young women were out of earshot. "Your daughter will look like a young goddess."

"She's right about her stepmother, Karen's… ultra conservative." Linda warned the artist.

"What do I care about such a peasant?" She looked at Papa. "This is to be our finest hour, eh?"

"Yes," he sighed. "Have you come up with a unique design for the donkey head?"

Dido shook her head, "I'm hopeful some muse will come and inspire me."

So absorbed in their conference were the three that they didn't notice the man moving past them. He listened for a moment, grinned and moved on.

Dido sniffed the air, "Do you smell that?"

Linda too was alert, "Spices."

Papa looked at them as if they'd lost their minds. "I don't smell anything."

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Magda wandered backstage, to where the dressing rooms for the stars of the play were. On the door was a card that read Linda Williams and Sarah Williams. She opened the door and walked in, dropping the heavy purse she wore on a table. She looked about the room and rolled her eyes. "Take off your clothes." She said boredly.

"I bed your pardon?"

Looking at the girl, Magda repeated herself. "Take off your clothes, strip." She snapped her fingers expecting to be obeyed.

Sarah hesitated. "Why?"

Magda pulled a tape measure out of her pocket, "I need to measure you."

"Naked?" Sarah questioned.

Sighing heavily, as if this were all too much, Magda pointed to Sarah's chest. "You want the brassiere to fit right?" When the girl nodded, Magda continued. "We're dealing with something Dido has always wanted to do, this kind of fabric and metal work married. But the blacksmith who is doing the metal needs an accurate map as it were of your boobs. So I have to measure them, naked. We may even have to make a plaster cast of them to get the portions just right, don't want to chafe your pretty skin." Snapping her fingers she commanded again; "Strip!"

"I see." Sarah began to strip off her blouse. "Thank you for explaining."

"Anytime," Magda sounded bored. Sarah turned to her once she was naked from the waist up. Not really looking at her but getting the note paper ready, Magda ordered; "Totally nude, please." Sarah stripped off the rest of her garments and stood naked before the assistant. Magda turned and gasped. "Fuck, Dido's right! You're a knock out." Sarah covered her face with her hands and groaned.

Magda placed the tape at the tip of Sarah's nipple and measured to the base of her breast. "Take it as a complement kid." The Goth girl teased as she took the measurements in an unhurried manner. "You're going to look fuckin' great." She stepped back and looked at the girl's curves. "Your costumes will be talked about for years to come."

"This is making me a little nervous." Sarah confessed as the assistant took her hip measurements.

"Relax," Magda smiled for the first time. "I'm not a Lezzie, just a fabric freak!" Her hands were very skilled and she paused to make extra notes.

"Farbric freak?" Sarah repeated.

"Yep," the girl answered. "I'm just finishing up at F.I.T. that's the Fashion Institute of Technology. Dido saw one of my creations in a catwalk show and offered me an apprenticeship, which I grabbed up." She paused, looking at Sarah. "Not everybody gets such an offer you know."

"I guess not." Sarah really didn't know but didn't want to piss off the Goth girl.

"Damn right," Magda went back to her measuring. "To apprentice on a show like this is more than an honor, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Why is that?" Sarah asked looking down at the girl on her knees taking a measurement.

Magda looked up. "You know this is Papa's last show, right? Well it's going to blow everyone away. This show, this is his legacy! His pinnacle," she looked at Sarah's naked leg. "And everything and everyone associated with it will become history!"

"Really?" Sarah questioned.

"Really," Magda stood up and turned Sarah and began making measurements of her fanny. "Cute Tuchus too bad no one will really see it." She teased giving one cheek a pinch.

Sarah yelped and jumped. "Magda!"

Magda wrote down the last of her measurements. "Relax; I prefer tall dark vampire types." The words didn't give Sarah much comfort, as she pulled her clothes back on. Especially when Magda commanded; "You're going to have to shave that bush." She continued to make notes on her pad of paper on her face a satisfied smile knowing she'd embarrassed the novice who was only a few years her junior.

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Dido and Magda stood quietly in the studio gazing at the combined sketches they had produced for Sarah's costumes. Dido nodded in approval at the alterations and modifications that Magda had not only suggested but had sketched. "You've a good eye, Bubeleh."

"Two of 'em." Quipped the Goth girl as she stepped back, "I tell ya Dido, that kid has a body to knock 'em dead."

"She is a younger version of her mother." The older designer conceded.

Magda blinked rapidly. "Say that again."

"Sarah is a younger version of Linda." Dido watched as the assistant moved to the sketches and pulled out the sketches for Linda's costumes.

"Brilliant! I'm fuckin' brilliant!" Magda hooted as she pulled sketches and moved toward the older designer. "You're gonna love this you old war horse!"

One graying brow went up, "I was a dove not a hawk; I'll have you know." She raised her glasses from their resting place, the braided cord that held them round her neck. "What do you have?" She leaned forward with interest.

"They're Queen's right? And Linda's this warrior queen, an Amazon?" She made a quick sketch and shoved it to Dido. "What do you think?"

"You're fuckin' brilliant." Dido quipped.

"I'll order plaster to cast their bosoms," the girl made a note on the list of chores for the next morning. Magda's smile faded as she looked toward the one costume design on the story board they were working from. They were still having trouble fleshing out Bottom's head peice. "I wish I was brilliant in figuring something out for that one!"

"That is my wish as well." Dido nodded in agreement. "Perhaps tomorrow we will have better luck." She looked at her watch. "I'll see you at nine; the black smith will be here at ten thirty. Perhaps we can have Linda and Sarah come here to be fitted when his castings are made."

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Darkness folded about him like the arms of a lover. He glided though the night air with no interruptions. This was his time, and he had no need to hurry. The wish had been made and he had heard it whispered on the night winds. It was not difficult to find the originator of the wish, he had but to follow the wishes scent. The scent took him to an old and established neighborhood that was near the ocean, Brighton Beach. Her wish scent was strong, nearly as strong as the ones who wished children away. It was like an elixir to him and he feasted on it. Mortals never knew how much energy they fed the Fae realm with their wishes. He waited knowing the wisher was tired and would soon give herself over to sleep. Once she was deep in the depths of a dream he could influence her, all he had to do was wait.

It didn't take long; Magda was a devoted dreamer, as most artists were. She left her dreams open, like a welcome mat. He entered through the open bedroom window, knelt at the bedside and whispered in her ear. Touching her forehead with the gloved hand, he watched as her face softened and the inspiration so desperately needed was found.

Rising he looked down at the Goth girl, sleeping so childlike. He smiled, whispering; "One down, one to go." He move to the window and had transformed to the bird of the night long before he reached the sill.

The other, the older artist was just as easy to find, for her wish sent was as strong as a child's. The scent took him to the neighborhood called St.Mark's Place. The scent of other artist and dreams were wafting on the breeze, a frantic feast for the creatures like himself. He followed the one scent, ignoring the others, to a loft where wide windows and open airiness greeted him. This was the domicile of a one time flower child. Incense hung in the air like an old friend. The surroundings were not fancy, nor were they extravagantly expensive. The floors were bare wood, but clean and tidy. The furnishings were of wood and natural fibers, no polyester for the one time flower child Dido. No. Hers was a simple and beautiful lifestyle. One the visitor could appreciate. In the kitchen there was an herb window green house, filled with green growing things that greeted the one who had entered looking for a scent.

Dido lay alone in her bed; she'd given up on lovers who had never understood that she lived as a slave to fabric and inspirations of what to do with it. The men in her life had wanted her to dote on them, and she could not serve two masters. Dido had but one true love, creation. The visitor moved quietly into the room, reverently he knelt beside the bed to bestow his gift. He watches as the inspiration moved seamlessly into her dream and was accepted. He touched her brow, much as he had the younger artist and waited for a moment. Peace came to the face of the woman and he knew he could not leave. His task had been performed. He would leave it up to them to complete the chore of making it reality.

Once he'd exited the loft he soared into the sky, seeking only one more scent; her. The one he'd followed to this loud and angry place. Hers was the easiest scent of all to follow, as he had imprinted in on his heart. Landing in a tree near the room where she now slept, he rested, keeping guard and waiting. He could wait; he had after all…forever.

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Dido found Magda busily working when she arrived with a handful of sketches to show the girl. "Wait until you see!" she gloated, "I've had a revelation!"

Magda looked up. "You too?" she handed the older artist one of her sketches, a close up for an elaborate head piece. She looked at the sketch that Dido handed her. "Oh my Fuckin' God! Their almost identical."

Dido nodded inspecting the drawings side by side. "I see I'm rubbing off on you!" she boasted. "This is a sign from the Gods!"

"Yeah right," Magda didn't believe in Gods. "More likely it was the Chinese we ate last night."

Dido looked at the girl, "Did you ever make masks at F.I.T.?"

Magda snickered, "No, but I made masks back in senior year of high school, the art teacher was a mask freak." She took a seat on the work table. "This is gonna be fun!"