“Sort of,” Jack told him. “But I don't think it's that good. It needs a theme to make it flow together. At the moment it's only a series of different steps and it's just not that interesting.”
“Show me,” demanded Marmalade. “Move that rug first, though,” he added as Jack went to the middle of the room. “We don't want any more accidents! This floor is pretty good, but just walk through the dance. And for goodness' sake, don't do any jumps!”
As Jack went through his routine, Marmalade realized how much he was enjoying himself. He felt happy for the first time since his accident. He might not be able to dance right now, but perhaps he
could
be helpful after all.
“There's nothing wrong with your movements,” he told Jack. “But I can see what you mean. Each step is great, but the routine doesn't really flow together. You're right. Every dance
should
tell some sort of story, otherwise it's just an exhibition of your skill.”
“Why don't you come to the next class?” said Jack. “Even though you can't dance at the moment, you're good at making suggestions. You might be able to help the others, too.”
“I don't know,” said Marmalade. “But I suppose that if I did, at least I'd be involved.” He moved slightly on the bed and a painful twinge ran through his knee. It was the first time he'd been reminded of his injury since he'd been talking about dancing. Danny had been right. He
did
feel better when he stopped thinking about himself all the time. But then he remembered that he still couldn't dance, and this year's Rising Stars Concert would be going ahead without him. What if this had been his best chance of performing? What if Jack or one of the other students was chosen instead of him next time? How could he bear it? But he shouldn't think like that. He had to try to get on with things somehow.
“All right,” he agreed, ignoring the pain. “I'll try. I
will
come to the next class.”
11.
A Project for Marmalade
Now that Marmalade had a reason for getting back into dance classes, he was beginning to feel a lot better. But he still had to find Danny to thank him for setting him straight.
It was time for dinner, so Jack and Marmalade went over to the dining hall together. When he hobbled in with Jack by his side, all their friends looked up in surprise, but when they saw Marmalade's old smile back on his face, they gave a ragged cheer. Pop pulled out a chair so Marmalade could sit down, and Jack hung Marmalade's bag over the back of it.
“Aren't you joining us, Jack?” asked Chloe.
He shook his head. “Thanks, but Ravi is waiting for me,” he said. “I told him I'd have dinner with him.”
“See you later, then,” said Danny as Jack made his way over to Ravi's table.
“Well,” Tara said to Marmalade. “Why are you looking so pleased with yourself? I thought that silly grin had gone for good.”
She sounded as grumpy as always, but Marmalade could tell that even Tara was pleased to see him looking more like his old self again.
“It's all Danny's fault,” said Marmalade, grinning at his friend. “He cheered me up. Thanks, man,” he added, really meaning it. “I will try not to be such a miserable idiot from now on.”
“You've had a hard time,” said Lolly sympathetically. “It's no wonder you've been a little miserable.”
“A
little
miserable?” said Tara. “He's been
terrible
since his accident.”
“So what's changed your mood?” asked Chloe. “After all, you still can't . . . you know . . . dance.”
“Don't remind me!” said Marmalade. “No, it's just that I've been giving Jack some tips for his dance routine, and I'm really enjoying doing it now that I don't have one of my own to concentrate on. I'm going to go to his next dance class and see if I can help some more. At least I'll be involved with dancing, even if I'm not doing it myself yet.”
The very next afternoon, Marmalade was as good as his word and turned up for the dance class. And when he heard what Marmalade wanted to do, Mr. Penardos was very enthusiastic.
“This is splendid, Marmalade,” he said. “If you find you enjoy choreography or teaching, you will never be out of a job. You know we teach choreography when you get further up in the school? Why don' you watch what everyone has been doing and see if you have any suggestions.”
Marmalade sat at the side of the room and watched as the dancers limbered up and then went through their routines. He itched to join them on the specially sprung dance floor, but he did his best to forget about himself and concentrated on watching the other students.
He came up with a few useful comments for Alice as well as Jack, and Mr. Penardos was full of praise. “Nice job, Marmalade,” he said. “Maybe you will be a famous choreographer one day!”
Marmalade tried to feel excited about being a choreographer, but although he enjoyed working out steps for himself, he knew that actually dancing them would always be his greatest love.
Near the end of the lesson, Marmalade suggested a sequence of steps to Jack, but when Jack tried them he couldn't get them quite right. “No,” Marmalade told him, not sure if he had explained it well or if it was just that Jack couldn't do the steps. He picked up his crutches and struggled to his feet. “I'll show you,” he said.
“Be careful,” Jack warned him anxiously.
“I'm all right,” Marmalade replied. “Do it with me. I'll try to explain again. You lead with the right foot, and bring the left one over like this.”
It wasn't easy on crutches, and he had to remember that he still shouldn't put any weight on his bad knee, but Marmalade managed to show Jack what he meant.
“Oh! I see now,” said Jack, very pleased. “You mean like this!”
He did the sequence again and Marmalade watched closely. “Almost,” he agreed. “But you're still not bringing that leg over far enough.” He tried to demonstrate and almost lost his balance. One crutch slipped on the floor, and Jack had to grab his arm to stop him from falling.
Marmalade had frightened himself badly, and he was annoyed with himself as well. “I'm all right,” he told Jack, shaking off his help. But what if he had fallen on his already injured knee? It seemed he couldn't do the simplest things without getting into trouble. While Jack hovered nearby, Marmalade lowered himself carefully onto his chair.
“Oh, go away,” he snapped, and then sighed. “Sorry,” he apologized at once. “I'm all right. You go on. I'll see you later.”
Mr. Penardos turned the music off and waited until everyone had left before he came to speak to Marmalade.
“You did well today,” he told him.
Marmalade shrugged. He was annoyed with himself for feeling miserable again, but he couldn't seem to help it.
Mr. Penardos sat down and studied his student for a moment. “You are bound to feel frustrated from time to time,” he told Marmalade. “I un'erstand how you feel.”
“Do you?” asked Marmalade bitterly.
“Oh, yes,” insisted the teacher. “You see, I did something similar when I was young.”
Mr. Penardos was lost in thought for a moment, and Marmalade waited, intrigued to hear what his teacher had to say.
“I was a lot like you,” Mr. Penardos began. “I had real talent, and a great joy of dancing in my native Cuba. I had such ambition, too. I was going to set South America alight with my dancing, and maybe I would even be invited to New York to perform! But none of these things happened.”
“Why not?” asked Marmalade.
Mr. Penardos smiled sadly. “I was foolish,” he explained. “I had injured my knee in practice one day. But I had a girlfriend I wanted to impress very much, and I ignored my injury. I was dancing with my girlfriend, and it was painful, but I was determined not to stop. I was showing off so much . . .” Mr. Penardos shrugged. “I fell again, and that was it. I had injured myself too much, and the knee was never the same again.”
“I didn't know,” said Marmalade. “I just thought you'd retired from dancing because you wanted to teach.”
“I came to love teaching,” Mr. Penardos told Marmalade. “But to begin with, I thought my life was over. Every time I tried to dance, my knee gave way, until I had to admit my career was finished. But you ...” He nodded at Marmalade. “I admire you, because you are being careful, however much you want to use that knee again. I am sure you will be fine because you are letting it heal properly, unlike me.”
“I'm sorry,” said Marmalade. “It must have been terrible for you.”
“It was,” Mr. Penardos agreed. “But it was a long time ago, and I enjoy what I do now. But, you know, you can use your feelings since the accident to improve your dancing when you are better.”
“I can?” asked Marmalade in surprise. “How can I do that?”
Mr. Penardos smiled. “You have always been good at expressing fun and happiness in your dancing,” he said. “But you have found dancing sad roles much harder. Is that not so?”
“Yes!” agreed Marmalade. That was certainly true.
“Well, this injury has given you feelings I bet you never had before,” Mr. Penardos said. “Would you agree?”
Marmalade nodded. He had never been as miserable or as angry or as scared as he had been since his injury.
“Well, then,” said Mr. Penardos, getting up and handing Marmalade his crutches. “Think about those feelings. Keep them in your head. You can express how you feel with your body even though you are on crutches. It's surprising how much emotion people can convey even while sitting down. I could see your misery just now, although you said nothing, and were sitting still.”
“Oh,” muttered Marmalade. “I hadn't thought of that.”
“Think of your injury as an opportunity,” the teacher advised. “While that ligament is healing, you can grow, too.”
Marmalade got up and hitched his bag onto his shoulder. “I'll do my best,” he told his teacher. “I promise, I really will!”
12. Marmalade Has an Idea
While the others were changing out of their dance clothes, Marmalade went for a walk. He could get around quite quickly on his crutches now, as long as the ground was fairly level, so he headed for his favorite spot by the lake. There, he sat on a bench in the early-evening sun.
His thoughts were full of Mr. Penardos's story. Somehow, Marmalade had assumed that nobody could really understand how he felt, but now he knew that Mr. Penardos had suffered a similar injury with disastrous results. The teacher's story made Marmalade even more determined to let his knee heal properly before he used it again, however long it took.
At his last checkup, the doctor had told him that the more he could build up his muscles, the better they would protect his damaged ligament, so Marmalade was already working carefully on all the exercises he'd been given by the physical therapist.
Stretching his bad leg out in front of him, he looked around at the view. The lake was a beautiful place to be on such a lovely evening. The surface reflected the cloudless sky, turning the water a wonderful silvery blue. Now and then, a slight breeze ruffled the water. A couple of ducks swam toward him through the ripples, waggling their tails expectantly.
“Sorry,” Marmalade told them. “I don't have any food with me today.”
He gazed out over the lake while he thought hard about everything Mr. Penardos had said. Marmalade knew he'd lived a charmed life until this accident. Everything he'd wanted had happened for him, and his happy-go-lucky character had helped him to settle easily into living at Rockley Park with no hint of homesickness or any other problems. Of course, he'd had small ups and downs like everyone else, but he'd never really been anything other than happy. Looking back, even his worries about his wild red hair hadn't been that bad.
Now all that had changed. His injury had given him complex feelings that he'd never had before, feelings he needed to understand if he was ever going to be a truly great dancer. Marmalade felt as if he was on the verge of understanding himself better, and through that, becoming a better dancer.
And now that he was involved with dance again, what about the routine he was supposed to be helping Jack with? He'd agreed that Jack needed a story to tell, to make his routine more interesting. Could Marmalade use his recent experiences to help with that? Jack's routine wasn't going to win him a place in this Rising Stars Concert. They both knew that Jack wasn't yet a good enough dancer to be a Rising Star, and he hadn't been at Rockley Park long enough to have earned any Rising Stars points either. But with Marmalade's help, he could still show off the huge talent he had. They should make Jack's dance the best they could, even though no one would see it except the rest of the class.
Then another idea flashed into Marmalade's head. If they worked hard and came up with a polished performance, maybe Jack could dance it at a school assembly? Quite often, someone would finish the principal's assembly with a song or a piece of music. So why not a few minutes of dance? If Mr. Penardos thought it was interesting enough, Marmalade was sure he'd put it forward for consideration.
There were two more principal's assemblies before the end of the semester. If he could come up with a really good theme for Jack's dance, maybe they would have a chance of Jack performing for the whole school. Marmalade pulled his crutches toward him and got up. He was too excited to sit still any longer. A germ of an idea had occurred to him. It would take a lot of work, and there wasn't much time, but Marmalade was sure they could do it.
He headed back to the main dorm as quickly as he could. With luck, everyone would be having dinner by now. The gravel crunched under his crutches as Marmalade swung along, eager to find Jack and tell him about his plan. He negotiated the couple of steps up into the main dorm, and made his way down the hallway to the dining hall. Just then, Jack and Ravi came out and headed off toward their dorm. They must have finished dinner already. Marmalade leaned heavily on his crutches to get his breath back.