The Calling (8 page)

Read The Calling Online

Authors: Barbara Steiner

“I want nothing else,” Davin said. “I'd look silly.”

We don't? Miki thought, but didn't dare say that aloud. She could hardly wait to see what she
did
look like.

“How do I look?” Miki asked, when Primavera had powdered her hair lightly with a silver color. “Don't you have any mirrors around here? There should be some backstage.” Miki got up to run and find the makeup room. Surely it was in the wings to the right or left of the stage. She realized she hadn't had time to explore the theater at all.

“Let's get back to work,” Barron ordered, signaling the fun was over and stopping Miki's search for a mirror.

“A camera.” Without thinking Miki ignored him. “I'll bring my mom's Polaroid tomorrow.”

“I said, we need to get back to work.” Barron's voice was no-nonsense, “I'm serious.” Miki heard it this time.

“I'm sorry. I just thought—”

“Wear it home,” Davin whispered. “Look at yourself once you get home.”

Miki nodded and ran for the black swing. This routine was to be her first on the trapeze, and she was eager to try it. She put how she looked behind her and concentrated on how she danced.

A couple of people, including the bus driver, looked at her with curiosity when she started home. Heady with success, she ignored them. The whole area was full of theaters, and dance and acting studios. Surely people who took this bus were used to seeing strangely dressed and made-up people. But then most people took off their makeup before they left the theater. She couldn't bear to do so.

Suddenly she had a great idea. Her mother would die if she saw her. She swung off the bus at Paige's house.

Fortunately Paige opened the door when Miki rang the bell. “Miki, is that you? Glory, I knew you were mixed up with a bunch of punk dancers. Look at yourself.”

Miki laughed. “That's why I wore it home—here—I didn't dare go home, but I didn't get to see it at the theater. We were playing with it and then we had to get right back to work. Quick, get your mother's camera.”

Miki ran to the hall bathroom near Paige's room. She gasped as she stared in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. She did look great, in a strange way. Ghostly. Ethereal. Bleak. She thought of words to describe her makeup. Darkly romantic? Well, depends on who is looking. To some, she'd look silly or weird.

“That is truly weird makeup,” Paige said, standing in the bathroom doorway, “but obviously put on by a pro. Who's your makeup man?”

“We did each other. But, Paige, Davin—he's my partner, did this. I think he's probably their best artist. Everyone looked great. I know you have your doubts, but the makeup matches the dance.” Miki spun around the bathroom and looked at herself again. She laughed out loud.

“If you say so. I can't even imagine this show, Miki. You have me dying to see it. Do you know when you'll open?”

“No. No one seems to be in a hurry.” Miki realized that was true, but she didn't mind. Rehearsing was as much fun as having an audience, especially one that wouldn't like them.

“Did you ask about me, if I can try out? But don't let my mother see you. She'd never let me go over there. I can see why you didn't go home. I'll find some cold cream. You'd better get that off.”

“Not until you get a picture of me, Paige. Is that a Polaroid? Take several.” Miki posed as Paige snapped four photos. Then, reluctantly, Miki rubbed her face with the cold cream.

“I
guess
I'm looking forward to seeing this show. You never know. Sometimes the weirder the better. You might get sellout crowds and play for years.” There was a wistful note in Paige's voice now, as if she thought Miki would never ask if she could try out and be in the show, too.

“Listen, Paige, tomorrow we're taking a day off. Davin said I could ask you to go to Bellponte with us, shopping and for dinner. Think your mother will let you go?”

“If you're going she will. Let's ask tomorrow, Miki. I'll get to know them, then we'll ask if I can try out. Okay?”

“It's a plan.” Miki slapped Paige a high-five, grabbed her gear, and started for home.

It was all she could do to concentrate on the routines in her dance class. Everything seemed tame, almost boring, after the trapeze work. Several times she let her mind drift to the thrill of swinging in space, spinning and flipping off the bar, landing and being caught and lifted by Davin.

She was so excited and hyper she was almost sick to her stomach by the time they finished class and changed clothes. For once Davin would see her in street clothes.

She had chosen carefully, not wanting to seem dressed up. A rust, brown and black broomstick skirt brushed her ankles, the chiffon overskirt flowing nicely when she walked. A black tank top matched it and was casual. Then because the night had turned cool after all the rain, she slipped on an oversized, cream-colored blouse of sheer crinkle cotton.

“You're going to wear that chiffon skirt from India after all the publicity about it catching on fire easily, Miki? Mom made me take mine back.”

Miki spread the sheer skirt, and the colors, all her favorites, blended like falling autumn leaves. “Sure. That's silly, how often does your skirt catch on fire? I love this skirt. I could wear it every day.”

“You like one of the dancers, don't you, Miki?” Paige knew Miki well enough to see her excitement and her careful detail of dressing and putting on street makeup.

Miki had showered after class, then brushed and brushed her long hair and let it float loosely over her shoulders. The colors she wore set off the red-gold color. Her cheeks were flushed, her whole face glowed. Miki could see her emotions mirrored all over her face. She wished she could appear less eager, but right now she didn't even know how to breathe.

“I guess I do,” she admitted to Paige. “And I'm eager for you to meet him.”

“I'm a little scared I'm losing you.” Paige never hesitated to say what was in her heart.

“Oh, Paige, never. Never. We're blood sisters, remember?”

“Weren't we silly? We were so young.”

“Young, maybe, but not silly. You'll never lose my friendship, Paige. But you may have to share me.”

Paige sighed. “I'm resigned to that. I hope his friends are nice. I'm afraid I've gotten bored with Sean. I told him I wouldn't go out with him any more.”

Paige never dated a guy for long, but she wouldn't be bored with Romney and Kyle. Miki didn't know if she'd like them. Suddenly her excitement gave way to nerves. Paige might not like Davin either, or any of these dancers Miki had grown accustomed to being around.

Miki could never choose between them and Paige. She hoped with all her heart she wouldn't have to.

Eleven

T
HEY PLANNED TO
meet the Theater of the Dead troupe at the stage door in the alley of the old building.

Miki, unable to stand still, paced back and forth. Dank smells and gathering shadows added to her growing anxiety.

“Maybe we should have had them meet us at the studio.” Paige looked up and down the alley as if some bogeyman would jump out at them at any time.

A few feet away, the old woman pushing her grocery cart stopped and stared at Miki and Paige, but she said nothing this time, spoke no warning. Only hurried away when Miki waved at her.

“Who is that?” Paige asked staring at the woman.

“A street person,” Miki explained. “I've talked to her several times.”

“You'll talk to anyone, Miki. That's not safe.”

Miki grinned. She knew Paige wasn't feeling safe right now. Her eyes were huge and she was practically shaking.

Finally, Miki heard the click of the lock on the stage door. Slowly the door opened and Davin stepped out.

Miki let out the breath she was holding. She realized she had been afraid that Elah might step out and say Davin couldn't go. Or that he would tell them to go away. “Thank goodness. I was getting worried.” Miki smiled at Davin to let him know she wasn't angry, just eager.

“I would never forget.” Davin smiled back. “And is this your friend?”

“Yes. This is Paige Anderson. Paige, Davin—Davin—I don't know your last name.” She realized she'd never bothered to ask any of the dancers about last names.

“Doesn't matter.” Davin took Paige's hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it.

Paige giggled. “I'm glad to meet you, Davin. I've heard a lot about you.”

“Good things?” Davin looked at Miki, and she felt her heart skip and hammer on her ribs.

“So many incredible things that I expected some superman.” Paige relaxed enough to tease Miki more than Davin.

“And you are disappointed?” Davin took Miki's arm with one hand, Paige's with the other.

“Not at all. That's a beautiful cape.”

Davin was dressed in black tights, a long black silk overshirt, and the black cape with red satin lining. Miki wasn't surprised, but she couldn't help but wonder if he ever wore jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Isn't the rest of the troupe coming?” Miki asked, a bit disappointed. She looked back down the alley.

“Yes, they're slow. We'll wait for them in the car.”

Davin led them to a long, black Lincoln Continental that was parked around the corner at the curb of a side street.

“Is this Barren's car?” Miki asked, looking at the expensive, sleek car, surely out of the thirties or forties. All the trim, including wire wheels, was a gleaming silver, as if the metal had recently been polished. The body shone like ebony and the finish didn't have a scratch anywhere. It had been freshly washed.

“Wow, it looks old, but he's taken care of it.” Paige was clearly impressed.

Within five minutes, before the silence became awkward, the rest of the troupe rounded the corner. Dressed all in black, they chattered and laughed like a flock of crows gathering for a feast. Miki was a little surprised to see that they had on their Gothic makeup. She had thought it would only be for the show.

Miki introduced Paige. Immediately Romney and Kyle put her between them in the back seat of the luxury car. Rima squeezed in beside Kyle. Primavera sat in the front next to Miki, who was wonderfully close to Davin, the driver. She had never ridden in a car that didn't have bucket seats. She loved this closeness, even the smell of Primavera's heavy, sweet scent beside her.

“Let's have an adventure,” Davin said, pulling away from the curb, the engine purring, the car riding smooth as cream along the uneven and cracked city streets.

Miki couldn't resist running her hand over the supple black leather seat, then across the padded dashboard. Barron must have money, even if the troupe didn't.

She looked at Davin, feeling his eyes on her. He smiled as if he understood her awe.

They reached Bellponte, the neighboring city, in no time, making Miki wish they were driving farther. To New York City, maybe, or over to the ocean to spend the day. Maybe they could do that another day.

Davin found a space on Main Street for the car. “I called ahead and had it reserved,” he said to Miki, smiling at her before they got out. “I don't like parking lots.”

They spilled onto the street, and Miki sneaked a look at Paige to see how she had fared in the back between Romney and Kyle. Paige's eyes were wide, and she was saying nothing. That meant she was either scared or ill at ease.

“Paige, you decide where to go first,” Miki said, trying to get her to relax.

“Oh, I—I—” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Let's go look in the pawn shop. Sometimes they get really great jewelry.” She looked at Romney. “Unless you hate looking at jewelry.”

Romney giggled. “I like jewelry fine. I can get a new earring.” Romney had one ear pierced and usually wore one narrow silver band through it. Kyle, like a mirror image, wore an identical ring in the other ear. “Me, too. I'd like a diamond stud.”

They rounded the corner of Eighteenth and Main, passing the burned-out hulk of the old Lafayette Theater.

“This theater burned down last Christmas,” Miki said, pointing. She wasn't sure where Davin and his friends had lived before coming to Waterford. “Or maybe you knew that.” She fished for information, hating to keep asking them questions. Most people would have supplied all that background the first time you met them. She realized this dance group seemed to have appeared from no place to take over the old building they were in.

“We know everything and nothing,” Davin teased. “Speak to us with your lovely, soft voice.”

“Oh, Davin.” Miki felt her face heating up and didn't dare look at Paige. She cleared her throat and talked to get over her embarrassment. “There was an incredible fire. This whole building burned and several people died. I heard some strange story, though, about the ballet teacher and part of her ballet troupe disappearing into thin air during the fire. There was some mystery about it that never was cleared up.”

“Some say the place is haunted by their ghosts,” Paige contributed to the story. “Just walking by it gives me the creeps. Don't you feel bad vibes?” She looked at Kyle.

“We'll protect you from any ghosts.” He put his arm around Paige, and it was her turn to blush. Miki should have warned her that these people liked touching each other.

Then Davin put his arm around Miki and she stopped worrying about Paige. Paige could take care of herself. Miki was her friend, not her mother. And besides, Miki had much better things to think about.

Davin loved her. She could sense it. This lovely man was falling in love with her.

Twelve

E
VERYONE BUT
R
OMNEY
and Kyle were content to browse in the pawnshop, which had everything from musical instruments to TV sets, all styles of rings, pendants, and expensive watches. Romney and Kyle zeroed in on a pair of diamond studs, just like they'd ordered, and quickly negotiated a price with the owner. The old man didn't blink an eye on seeing his unusual customers. Miki figured they were in another theater district here, so he had seen most everything.

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