Read The Midnight Dancers: A Fairy Tale Retold Online
Authors: Regina Doman
The Midnight Dancers: A Fairy Tale Retold (38 page)
But she was suddenly conscious that this was the daylight, not the phantasms and terror of the nighttime. Things were different here—different religions, different churches, differing paths of life. There were obstacles here, too—more prosaic and discernible, but still obstacles. But Paul had asked her to live in both the night and the day.
In the bathroom, she carefully brushed her hair, cleaned her teeth, and studied herself in the mirror.
What will Paul think of me now? After everything that’s happened?
She didn’t know what to expect.
At last she stole downstairs and tiptoed to the living room, to look again on the sleeping man.
But all that greeted her in the living room, bright with fresh sunshine, was a tangle of blankets, and no body.
Dumbfounded, she stood still. For an instant she almost wondered if she had been right—if Paul, as she had thought of Michael last night, wasn’t really a human being, but something else, something beyond human. But that was silliness.
She hesitantly turned away and went into the kitchen. Her father was up, at a sunny spot on the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading his Bible. He turned when she came in.
“Good morning, Rachel.”
“Good morning,” she came to him, put her arms shyly around him, and kissed him. “Where’s Paul?”
“He’s already up and gone,” her dad said with a smile.
“Gone?” she repeated, dismayed.
“To church. He just left a moment ago. He said he just had time to walk to morning Mass, so he left.”
“Oh.”
He took her hand unexpectedly. “Rachel, I’ve decided to step down from leadership in our church. What do you think about that?”
She paused, holding his hand. “I think that would be wonderful, Dad.”
“The more I’ve been thinking about it, the more right it seems to me. You girls are growing up so fast. Before you know it, you’ll all be out of the house. So I want to take advantage of the time left and spend more of it with you and your sisters. I’m convinced that God wants this of me. And I’m ready.”
His eyes were solemn. She bent down and kissed him, feeling a sweet happiness come over her. “Thank you, Dad. I think that’s just what our family needs.”
“Good!” he said, kissing her cheek and letting her go. “Would you—” He started to say something else, but she cut him off, unintentionally.
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.” He didn’t seem to mind that she had interrupted him.
“Can I—” she looked away, towards the door, where Paul had left. “Can I go—?”
“With Paul?” he asked. “To church?”
She nodded.
He seemed to be a bit disappointed, and she realized he had probably been about to invite her to join him for morning devotions. But then he seemed to make up his mind.
He squeezed her hand again and smiled a knowing smile. “Go with that young soldier, Rachel.”
Nevertheless, she didn’t let go of his hand right away. “Dad, are you sure?” she asked, uncertainly.
“Go with him, daughter,” he said, smiling sternly. “That’s an order.”
Without another word, she kissed him on the cheek, turned, and ran out of the house.
The sun was moving swiftly up into the blue sky, and the bay breeze was gusting merrily as she ran down the driveway to the gravel road. Her sandaled feet slapped against the brown pebbles, and her hair kept blowing in her face, but she didn’t care. As she rounded the curve, she saw him far ahead of her, walking easily. The bend of his muscles, his brown hair fluffed by the breeze. She called his name.
I’m never leaving you again.
He turned, and she raced towards him, scattering pebbles behind her. Her breath was catching in her throat, and she laughed, almost giddy with the exertion. She had never run after anything this fast, she was sure.
And as she came closer, she saw his face, first startled, and then wondering, like a child’s, and then he understood. And a grin lit up his face like she had never seen before, and he held out his hand to her.
He knows
, she realized.
He knows. And I know, too. I know that I know.
I know goodness. It has a name.
The great philosopher Dietrich von Hildebrand once said that if beauty and goodness are separated, then a curious disembodiment of the culture takes place. Goodness becomes abstract and merely moral, perhaps even boring; and beauty appears to be mere sensual glamour, a distractions, and perhaps even evil. For of course, said von Hildebrand, goodness and beauty are in their essences the same thing. As human beings, we need goodness to be incarnated in beauty so that we can more easily love goodness.
After I pondered these words for some time, I began to wonder: how could you possibly cure someone for whom goodness is boring? As a cradle Catholic, I had grown up knowing many jaded Christian teenagers who were sure that they knew “all about
that
stuff,” Christianity, and they were sick and tired of it. To them, goodness was truly boring. What could be done for them?
To try to figure out the answer, I wrote this novel.
So right at the beginning, I have to acknowledge my debt to von Hildebrand, whose thoughts set me on this path, and also to Dr. Benjamin Wiker, who pointed out the disastrous consequences to the soul who finds goodness boring. Without the writings of these two men, this book would not exist.
I’m also very grateful, one again, to the collage of friends and family who helped me with this book, primarily my own brothers and sisters, and my friends Ben Hatke, Nicholas Marmalejo, and Andrew O’Neil. Ben helped me with the juggling parts, Nick helped me with the aikido, and they both helped Andy choreograph that marvelous fight scene at the climax of the book. I’m never going to forget watching them stage the battle in the living room of our old house: truly memorable!
Again, my old friend Dr. Frank helped me with the medical facts for the book, and my chiropractor Dr. Scott Berman helped me with the “alternative medicine” parts. My brother Paul Doman (Captain, National Guard) and friend Rich Morgan (Retired Senior Master Sergeant, Air Force) assisted with the military scenes. Rick and his wonderful wife Cathy, who are parents of teenaged girls, also gave me useful and illuminating recommendations on parenting. (Cathy and her daughter Caitlin also sent over two delicious dinners during the final editing stretch, which was a wonderful blessing!) And although I had Rachel ask her father not to share his insights with his friends at the start of Chapter 18, I am grateful that writer Elizabeth Foss chose to share her own epiphany on parenting teenagers with her readers, since it partially inspired that scene.
Jean Vencil, Elizabeth Hausladen, and Pastor Greg Wright all helped me enormously by reading the book and commenting on the Protestant aspects in the story. So did Ken Fast (a former Mennonite). As a Catholic, I am grateful for their perspective.
Special thanks to Caroline Miller for modeling for the cover photo. All other images were courtesy of iStock Photo, and almost all the fonts were from the great calligraphers at the Scriptorium. Two exceptions were the title font (A Yummy Apology) and the Little People dancing under the moon. The latter is a freeware font created by Emerald City Fontwerks. All fongs and images were used with permission.
Other readers who gave wonderful advice included Micheala Berquist, Anna Hatke, Alyssa Hichborn, Katie Tietjen, Mary Clare Robinson, and Nance and Sarah Brown. And I must give a special note of thanks to screenwriter and writing instructor Janet S. Batchler who wnet over and over my opening scene with me until it worked. Since I tried for five years to fix it on my own, I am so very grateful.
I cannot begin to express my gratitude to my husband Andrew, who put many hours into editing and revising this book, as well as arguing to convince me to tighten rambling or unnecessary scenes. I owe him so much.
My children Caleb, Rose, Marygrace, Thomas, Joan, and Polly were also so patient with me during this whole process. Also I am sure my son Joshua was praying for me from Heaven. I’m thankful for all of them.
And most of all I’m grateful to the man Who is the only person I know who can cure us of the illusion that goodness is boring: my Savior, our Lord Jesus Christ. It was a privilege to write this book. I am glad to have been given this story to tell.
About the Author
Regina Doman lives near Front Royal, Virginia with her husband and their six children.
More information about her Fairy Tale Novel series can be found at
www.fairytalenovels.com
. Regina always welcomes email, feedback, and questions from readers.
Table of Contents
1. The twelve princesses all slept together in a great room, their beds standing side by side.
3. A poor soldier, recently returned from the wars, heard of the king's mysterious problem...
5. Therefore, the soldier presented himself at the front door of the castle...
6. That night, the soldier slipped on his cloak of invisibility...
10. So the soldier kept his silence and the princesses did not guess that they had been seen.
14. And the soldier kept his silence still.
16. And still the soldier kept his silence, telling no one what he had seen.