The Midnight Dancers: A Fairy Tale Retold

by Regina Doman

  “No,” he said. “I would try to live honestly in every part of my life. I think what you’re doing is a dangerous way to live.”

  “Why dangerous? You could keep all the dark things in your life away from contaminating the light parts. Or would you prefer to be totally dark?” she pursued, swinging her hips as she walked.

  He halted. “You’re a very strange girl, Rachel.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you seem to see everything as a conflict. Why does there have to be a battle between your day and your night? God separated them, but there’s light in both. God made the moon, you know, to beautify the night. There’s got to be room for mystery. Don’t draw battle lines where they’re not meant to be. There’s enough war in the world without them.”

  She was amused. “Is that what’s so different about you?”

  “What?”

  “You’re not divided. I can’t make up my mind as to whether you’re a pagan or a Christian. You’re so strange that way.” She had taken a step towards him and was studying him curiously.

  “Rachel,” he said with an effort, feeling self-conscious. “Trying to split your world in two, and then trying to live differently in one world than you do in the other—that’s just not healthy. It can’t be done for long. It can lead to —” he paused. “Well, one thing it could lead to is mental disintegration.”

  Rachel looked at him sharply, and flushed.

  “What?” he asked. He saw that tense expression on her face again.

  “Suppose—” she dropped her eyes and started walking carefully around the rocks at the edge of the water. “Suppose you’d been told all your life that you had to keep your eyes on the things of heaven, and keep away from the entanglements of the flesh, and then you grew up and realized that you were beautiful, and knew that wherever you went, you were going to keep on turning men’s eyes away from heaven down to earth and—” she looked up at him, “fleshly matters. How would that make you feel?”

  “Evil,” he said flatly. “That’s why I don’t agree with looking at the world that way. Is that how you feel?”

  “I’m not the only girl who feels that way,” she said quietly. “Prisca scares me sometimes. I mean, I’m a bit rebellious, but she’s very rebellious. Sometimes she’s actually hostile about God and church and everything.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about?” He knew she was changing the subject, but it was clear that this other matter had been on her mind as well.

  “Yes. Do you know what I mean? Isn’t there something a bit—strange—about her mood swings?”

  He hesitated, again knowing more about the situation than she realized he knew. Prisca seemed overly excited, swinging back and forth between exhilarating highs and sour lows. And the way she threw herself in the path of strange men was disturbing.

  “I’ve actually been wondering,” he said, “if your sister might have some undiagnosed physical problems.”

  She stared at him. “You don’t mean mental problems?”

  He dug into the sand with his toe. “A good doctor would look at her holistically. Yes, there may be some psychological problems, but I’m not sure that’s the whole thing. I’ve been sort of watching her. She doesn’t eat very well. It could be that she has an undiagnosed food allergy, and her mood swings are due to blood sugar fluctuations.” Feeling he was overextending himself, he looked at Rachel, who was gaping at him. “I only have a pre-med degree—I’m not even a medical student yet. But I guess I’d say my instinct is that your parents should have her checked out. Just have her tested for allergies, to begin with. And a glucose test.”

  “You mean that everything might be due to—” she started.

  He shook his head. “No. There’s a definite moral problem she’s struggling with, and that won’t go away just because of a medicine. But it’s always more difficult to make the right choices when you’re feeling lousy, and this might help her out.”

  Rachel lifted her face to him, and he saw she was looking at him differently. The disdain in her blue-green eyes was dissolving. “You’re very observant,” she said slowly.

  He shrugged it off. “I probably have too much time on my hands right now,” he said nonchalantly. “Have I answered your questions?”

  “Partly,” she said. “I’ll talk to Sallie, though, about Prisca. Right away.” She turned and started up the path. “Thank you,” she said, over her shoulder, and with a toss of her brown hair, she hurried off.

  He watched her and then turned away. She was a pretty girl, dancing with danger and hiding her secrets carefully, but she cared about her sisters deeply. He had to admire her for that.

  fifteen

  Paul found Colonel Durham in his home office that morning.

  “Good morning, Paul,” Colonel Durham said, when Paul came into the room. “What can I do for you?”

  Paul shut the door behind him and sat down in the chair across from the colonel. He swallowed hard, and tried to find the words to begin. He took a folded paper out of his pocket. “I remember that you were looking for ways you could re-connect more with your daughters. I asked my dad if he had any recommendations about raising daughters, and I wrote down a few things he said,” he handed Colonel Durham the folded paper.

  Colonel Durham took it. “Your father has how many daughters?”

  “Five. The oldest is thirty-two, and the youngest is eighteen. They all get along with him just fine.”

  “I see,” the man read over the paper silently for a few minutes. “Some of this I try to do already. ‘Speak respectfully to them.’ I always try to do that. ‘Listen to them.’ Well, if they would talk to me, I would listen to them.” He read over the paper and frowned. “This is a lot. I’m not sure if I’d have time to do all these things. ‘Take her out on a date periodically.’ Paul, I have a hard time trying to get some special time with my wife, let alone all those girls. Did your father do that?”

  “Yes,” Paul said. “He and my mom would go on a date about once a month on their wedding anniversary day, and he’d also schedule time to take my sisters out to breakfast, or lunch, or whatever once a month too.”

  “But he had five and I have twelve,” Colonel Durham said with a wry smile. “I’d spend half of every month on a date. Well, maybe that would help. I guess I could take them out to lunch on the days I work at home… All right, I’ll think about it. Thanks for taking the time to put this together.”

  “You’re welcome sir.” Paul rose.

  “There is one other thing I’d like to ask you about,” Colonel Durham looked at him keenly.

  “Yes sir?”

  “Sit down.”

  Paul sat again, and Colonel Durham took off his glasses and folded them. “I was up very early this morning,” he began. “And I was sitting at the kitchen table when I heard you and my daughter Rachel talking in the garage. Then she snuck inside into the bathroom, and I suppose you left. I was surprised, as you can imagine, to hear you two together so early in the day.”

  Paul swallowed, suddenly aware of his precarious position.

  “Can you tell me what was going on?”

  Carefully, Paul considered before he spoke. “I was up early myself, and I came up the drive and saw Rachel right outside the garage. That was how I met her.”

  “What was she doing out there so early in the morning?”

  He paused. “Sir, I...need to be free not to say anything about that at this point.”

  Colonel Durham looked at him for a long moment, then sat back and put his glasses back on, shaking his head. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I wanted to tell you that I heard you two.”

  Paul’s stomach churned. “Thank you, sir.”

  Colonel Durham sighed again. “I am continuing to pray.”

  “Keep it up. Please.”

  Sallie, concerned about how the younger girls were dragging during the day, was making them take afternoon naps. Now that they w
ere getting extra sleep, Debbie and Linette were becoming even more proficient at their act. On Monday, they did their first public three-way fountain with Paul, to great audience appreciation. After the act was over, a local reporter approached them wanting to do a story on them, and Debbie and Linette were delighted. They posed charmingly for the photographer. Paul also got a chance to highlight his own work in the article. Afterwards, one of the festival organizers stopped by to tell Paul and the girls how much their act was enjoyed, and extended an invitation for them to return next year. The girls were thrilled.

  They were having a celebration with ice cream cones when they were surprised by a group of family members. Miriam and Cheryl had brought over Robbie and Jabez, and Brittany and Melanie were tagging along. Paul suggested the young girls take a break and go on some rides with their sisters, but they wouldn’t hear about it unless he went with them. So he called it an early day and the jugglers packed up. Then they walked off to explore the fairgrounds in a chattering group.

  Paul wasn’t surprised when they happened to meet Pete and Taylor, and less surprised when the two boys joined their party. He was introduced to them, although he already knew who they were, of course. The high school boys initially seemed a bit uncomfortable around him, but Paul talked easily to them about colleges and sports, so they warmed up. He liked Pete, but Taylor was a little less friendly. It was obvious that he and Cheryl had something between them, and Paul caught them whispering furtively together when they thought no one was watching. In contrast, Pete and Miriam joked together as though they were two guys.

  Debbie and Linette each took charge of one of the baby boys, and were carrying them on their shoulders, showing them all the sights that would be interesting to small boys, like the ponies and the Revolutionary War band. Not wanting to be a third wheel, Paul focused his attention on the two outwardly quiet middle girls—Brittany and Melanie. They had always struck him as the most unpretentious of all the Durham girls.

  Knowing that she was a good athlete, Paul challenged Brittany to best him at one of the fair games, and Brittany took him up on it with alacrity. They let the rest of the group go on while they competed at the bean toss, the hoop throw, and several other games. Melanie applauded them both equally. Eventually the couples joined them at the games, and they spent at least an hour and too many quarters to count getting even with each other.

  They ended up the day at the picnic tables, eating popcorn and hot dogs and talking, while Jabez slept in Debbie’s arms, and Robbie occupied himself with the balloons they had bought him.

  Eventually the guys said goodbye, and left them at the picnic table. Paul remained with the Durham girls, and they chatted a bit longer as the afternoon drew on.

  “We should go home to dinner soon,” Cheryl said regretfully. “That was a lot of fun, though.”

  “Paul,” Miriam said, toying with her straw, her blue eyes snapping, “do us a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t mention to anyone that Taylor and Pete were with us?”

  “You mean, to your parents?”

  “Of course,” Miriam looked uncomfortable.

  “You weren’t doing anything wrong. Why do you have to keep it a secret?”

  “Because it would cause problems,” Cheryl said. “We’re not supposed to be spending one-on-one time with guys.”

  Paul paused. “I doubt it will come up,” he said. “But why do you feel you have to sneak?”

  “Because Mom and Dad don’t trust us,” Miriam said. She was obviously irked.

  Paul was silent, the two-faced nature of the girls’ relationship with their parents confronting him once again. He hated it.

  “It’s not so bad to have a harmless secret from them, is it?” Cheryl said uncertainly.

  Paul shrugged. “It’s on your conscience. Does it bother you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “It should.”

  Melanie spoke up suddenly. “What about if you have a secret from someone you love that you don’t want to keep?” she asked.

  The other girls became more uncomfortable. Debbie and Linette eyed Paul with worried expressions. Paul tried to look nonchalant, knowing what Melanie was asking.

  “Well, if it bothers your conscience to keep it, and you don’t intend to cause hurt, then in some cases you should bring the situation to light,” he said.

  “Even if that would hurt an awful lot of people?” Miriam demanded.

  “Or just one person?” Melanie said quietly.

  “Sometimes that’s all right to get it out in the open,” he said, meeting her sad brown eyes. He got to his feet. “Shouldn’t you girls get going now?”

  They packed up their things silently, and the older girls were giving him hard looks. His juggling partners were guilty and a bit fearful. He tried to keep a light tone, and helped carry Jabez back to the car. But he could hear their whispers in the background, and had no doubt that this would be a topic of much sisterly discussion later on when they were out of his earshot.

  The next day, the ideas that had been swimming around in Rachel’s mind gelled at last. She finished picking tomatoes, washed her hands, and went in search of Melanie as the afternoon wore on. Her favorite sister was usually the first person to hear her ideas.

  She found Melanie upstairs on her lower bunk bed, dozing, and sat down beside her. “Melanie, I want to do something special for Prisca for her birthday.”

  “Okay,” Melanie said softly. She sat up, and rubbed her eyes. “It’s this Friday, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Look, you know that Prisca has been having a hard time lately, with Dad and the church, and all that. I want to do something to—well, just really give her a good birthday, to let her know that we all love her. Maybe we sisters could do something special together for her. What do you think?”

  Melanie started to smile. “I think that’s a great idea, Ray.”

  “Good. I was thinking that you could help me come up with some ideas of what Prisca would really like. Like, we could each write a special card for her.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Melanie said, and put her head back down, wearily. Rachel noticed that she looked drained, and recalled that lately Melanie had been looking pale and drawn. Melanie wasn’t thriving in the moonlight, Rachel saw, and felt a sting of conscience.

  “I’m sorry I woke you up,” she said quietly. “You need to make up your sleep.”

  “Yes,” Melanie said, staring at the wall. Her eyes looked close to defeat.

  “Mel, is something wrong?”

  Her sister was silent, but her eyes blinked. They were sad half-moons now.

  “Mel, something is really bothering you. I can tell. What’s the matter?”

  Melanie sniffed, and wiped her nose. “Please don’t be mad, Rachel.”

  “I won’t,” Rachel promised, stroking her sister’s hair, concerned. Melanie, who had such a heart for others, had difficulty in talking about her own emotions sometimes, afraid of hurting people’s feelings.

  “I—I don’t like lying,” Melanie said.

  “Lying?” Rachel whispered. “You mean, our secret?”

  Melanie nodded.

  “Having a secret among all of us isn’t lying, Melanie,” Rachel objected.

  “I know,” Melanie whispered. “But every time we go, my heart gets a little heavier. I feel I’m getting closer and closer to lying.” Tears ran down her face. “I don’t want Mom and Dad to be mad at you. I don’t want you to have to lie to them. I don’t want to have to hide anything. I just want to be free and truthful, you know?”

  Rachel swallowed, and kept stroking Melanie’s hair. “Yes,” she said at last, her heart like a knot inside her. “Melanie, I wish I could work it out,” she said at last. “So that you could be happy and we all could be happy as well. I just don’t know if I can.”

  “I know,” Melanie said in a bare hush. “It’s just making my heart hurt, that’s all. It gets hard.” She rubbed her eyes. “I have to tell
you something,” she said finally. “I can’t keep hiding from you, at any rate, when you trust me so much.”

  “Go ahead, tell me,” Rachel said encouragingly.

  Melanie took a deep breath, and rolled over to look at her. “Paul knows our secret. He’s been watching us.”

  Rachel blinked. “What?”

  “I don’t know how he found out. But I’ve seen him hiding on Alan’s boat under the canvas and he goes with us to the island.”

  Rachel was silent for a moment as she took this in. “How long has he been doing this?”

  “For a while.” Melanie covered her eyes. “I thought you should know.”

  Rachel was unable to think of anything to say. A fury was rising in her, bolstered by a fresh, new fear. All this time, she had thought they were so safe.

  “Are you mad?” Melanie asked, her voice quavering.

  “At you? Nonsense,” Rachel hugged her tightly. “I can see how hard it was for you to tell me. Now lie back down and get some sleep.”

  “All right,” Melanie said, a half-sigh. It was clear she had needed to get this off her chest for some time. “Please don’t be too angry.”

  “Go to sleep,” Rachel whispered, tousling her hair and getting up from the bed. She didn’t want to hurt Melanie. “You were right to tell me,” she said with an effort, and walked downstairs, closing the attic door behind her.

  Now alone, she swore beneath her breath, and stormed downstairs.

  This time, she didn’t bother to tell Sallie she was borrowing the car. She grabbed the keys and a stack of library books as an excuse, and went out to the car. “Tell Sallie I’m going to return these books!” she bellowed out the window to Cheryl, and threw the car into reverse before she could hear Cheryl’s protests.

  She drove to the fair, parked the car, and hurried through the gravel lot, her face flaming but her insides tight. Entering the fair with a wave at the ticket booth attendant, she made her way through the thin crowds of cheerful people in colonial costume. She was hot and more bothered than usual by the farce of it all. She worked her way among the craft and game booths until she found the place where Paul and the girls usually juggled. When she got there, Paul was there alone, playing on his flute. At that particular moment, he had no audience.