The Midnight Dancers: A Fairy Tale Retold

by Regina Doman

  After dinner, Rachel and the other girls presented her with her first gift—a big basket of cards. “You can look at these on the couch while the rest of us clear the table,” Rachel said. “There’s one from everyone in the family. We each wrote a card to you describing what we like the most about you.”

  “Wow! Thanks!” Prisca said, amazed, taking the beribboned basket heaped with pastel envelopes.

  “Perhaps while you do that, I could provide some background music,” Paul suggested. “I brought over my flute.”

  “Yes, do,” Rachel said, and Prisca heartily agreed.

  “And I’ll be doing the dishes,” Dad said, getting up from his chair.

  So Paul sat on a chair perched in a convenient position between dining room and kitchen and played a soft, waffling melody while Prisca sat curled up on the couch, ripping open envelopes and reading cards. The sisters heard her giggling over some of them. But others she spent a long time over, reading slowly. Apparently, she was very touched.

  Dad, who had heard about the project at the last minute, had disappeared into his study a half hour before dinner and come out with a big ivory envelope, which he added to the basket. “Whose idea was this?” he had asked.

  “Rachel’s,” Debbie had volunteered, and Dad, surprised, had beamed at his oldest daughter.

  “Now that was a great idea,” he said appreciatively.

  They didn’t talk much while doing the kitchen, since everyone preferred to listen to the flute music. Everyone, that is, except Jabez and Robbie, who were as boisterous as usual. Brittany bundled them out to the garage and played monster with them until everything was done.

  When Prisca finally finished the cards, her face was wet but her eyes were full of light. “I love you all!” was all she said, and gave each of them a hug. Rachel couldn’t help noticing she hesitated at hugging Dad. Instead, she said something in his ear. He smiled at her and said, “You’re very welcome,” and kissed her. Then he walked back to his office.

  Prisca sat down at the head of the table beside Rachel. “Well!” she whispered, raising her eyebrows. “You should have read what Dad wrote! Sometimes even I get surprised!”

  Rachel couldn’t help grinning at the thought of how much more surprised Prisca was about to be.

  About an hour later, Rachel looked out the window. The family party was winding down, and the moon was rising. Dad was sitting on the couch with Sallie, watching Prisca, who was sitting on the floor, holding the silver manicure-makeup kit like a treasure on her lap. Prisca was painting Linette’s nails pale pink. Rachel was reminded of parents watching their child open her first Christmas presents. Jabez was asleep on the couch, his fat arm thrown up over his face, his cherub mouth open in tiny breaths. The other girls were watching a video on the computer with Robbie.

  Paul was packing up his flute. “I’ll say goodnight now,” he said, and went around, shaking hands and giving Prisca a hug, as she insisted.

  Rachel watched the sky darken, and felt the shimmer of excitement run through her. Not too long now, and Prisca’s second party would begin. And the midnight butterfly dress was finished.

  “Rachel?”

  She turned, and Paul was standing there, his flute case in his hand. His dark eyes were somber.

  “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she said, and gave him a brief side hug, the sort that she gave publicly to male church members. Tonight she had started to like him again.

  “Meet me in the herb garden before you go tonight?” he asked softly.

  “All right,” she whispered back, guarded.

  She wondered what was up with him as he turned and walked out.

  But accordingly, she got out of bed early, before the other girls had started to get ready. “I’m going down now. I’ll see you there,” she whispered to them, disappearing into the secret stairwell.

  Down in the cave, she had prepared a special toilette for herself. She brushed her hair, and using the battery lamp, applied her makeup judiciously. She had already put on black nylons and a slip upstairs. Now she slid into the midnight butterfly dress with a luxurious sigh. The satin whispered over her, and like a butterfly’s cocoon, transformed her from ordinary beauty to extraordinary splendor. The short cap sleeves curled back over her shoulders, embroidered sporadically with glass beads that winked in the light. She had appliquéd a piece of darker blue satin, cut from a stained dress-up dress, to the full black skirt so that it cut across her front in a graceful swathe, studded with more clear glass beads. The effect was like scattered dewdrops.

  Eagerly she zipped up the back and strapped on her black sandals, which she had decorated for this occasion with glittering silver curlicues of fabric paint. Sadly, there was no full-length mirror to see herself in, but she knew, she could feel, the phantasmagoric change.

  Like a glittering shadow she passed through the woods up to the lawn, feeling herself growing more graceful as she moved. A good dress, she thought, made you walk like a lady. It was nearly impossible to slouch.

  She approached the gray mist of the herb garden, which Sallie had planted for her prayer times. Rachel found it convenient for private conversations, since you could neither see it from the house nor hear anything that was going on there—and vice versa. As she entered the garden, she heard the soft lowing of a flute once more, and knew that he was waiting.

  He was sitting cross-legged on the bench, crouched over his flute. She saw he was all in black, a black half mask, black shirt, and his usual black pants and soft shoes that fit his feet. Once again, she thought of Pan, but said nothing. As she drew near, he ceased, and looked up at her. For a long moment, he did not speak. Then, he set down his instrument, got to his feet in one fluid moment, and took off his black mask. But she couldn’t see his expression in the dimness.

  “You wanted to see me?” she queried, swaying her hips slightly, a tad impatient.

  “Yes,” he said. “Did you make that dress, Rachel?”

  She nodded. “I did.”

  “It makes you look—” he began, and halted. After a second, he said, in a lower voice, “I was going to say you look beautiful, but you always look beautiful. I don’t know how to say that it’s amazingly increased your beauty without sounding trite.” He paused. “So I won’t try.”

  “Do I look like the Queen of Sheba?” she couldn’t help asking.

  “More beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she half-smiled, and reclined on the seat, putting one elbow on the arm of the bench. “So what do you want to tell me?”

  He sat down on the ground, holding his mask in his hands. Now she saw his face was growing uneasy.

  “I wanted to ask you not to go to the island tonight,” he said quietly.

  “But we can’t not go,” she said. “Michael’s having a special party for Prisca.”

  “I know,” his voice was low. “That’s what worries me.”

  She stared at him. “You really don’t trust him, do you?”

  “No, I don’t,” he said.

  “Michael is a very nice man.”

  “‘Nice’ is not the same thing as ‘good,’” he said.

  “What’s the difference?” she said, irate. “You’re not making sense.”

  “Rachel, please. I know you don’t have much of a desire to listen to me, but I just have—a bad feeling. A very bad feeling. So I wanted to ask you to try to keep the girls here tonight.”

  She studied her polished nails. “I’m sorry, Paul, but that’s impossible,” she said.

  He sighed deeply, as though he were in pain. “I knew you’d say that,” he said simply. “I just thought I would ask anyway.”

  Perturbed, she said, “You are coming, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” She looked up at the moon. “I should go soon.”

  “All right.” He moved, and before she realized it, he had vanished into the shadows. Amazed, she got up and turned this way and that, but he was gone.

  Un
sure of what to do, she said softly, “I’ll see you there.” And hurried back to the cave.

  The other girls were downstairs now and dressing. “Okay, the birthday girl gets first dibs on dresses,” Tammy was saying.

  “You can wear my brown tank dress,” Taren said generously.

  Prisca wavered, her hand hovering over the trunk of evening dresses. Then she plunged down and brought up a cream v-neck dress with a collar and short sleeves. It had belonged to the Durham girls’ mother.

  “I think I’ll wear Mom’s dress tonight,” she said.

  The sisters were a bit surprised but agreed that it would look stupendous on her. Despite her flippancy with Paul, Rachel was secretly relieved that Prisca hadn’t chosen to flaunt her endowments tonight.

  “Rachel, you look magnificent!” Cheryl gasped, catching sight of the dress. Rachel flushed, realizing that she would seem more dressed up than Prisca. But Prisca didn’t seem to mind.

  “She is gorgeous,” the birthday girl declared, creasing the cream collar on her own dress. “Rachel, the dress suits you completely. Make sure you stay away from Michael tonight!”

  There were titters all around, and Rachel said, “All right, let’s hurry it up! We don’t want to keep the guys waiting!”

  After making sure that no one was dallying, she made her way down to the beach carefully (she was wearing heels tonight) to await the boats. Soon a half-dozen of the other girls joined her, including Prisca, who was preening herself in delight. When they heard the motor of a boat approaching, Prisca actually bounced up and down with anticipation.

  But as the sound drew nearer, the sisters stared in dismay. Instead of three boats, there was only one, Alan’s boat.

  Rachel drew close to the willows as Alan pushed his boat towards the shore and tied up.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Alan jumped out of the boat and pushed aside the willows to get on to the beach. “Girls, I’m really, really sorry,” he said. “Taylor’s dad is having a midnight fishing expedition, and Keith and Pete’s dads are going. None of us knew about it—Pete’s dad just told him at dinner. And Keith wants to go out and do something with Rich, Pete and Taylor, and I’m supposed to join them. But I know you girls have that party tonight, so I thought I would drive the boat over for you to use.”

  Rachel was struck by his open-handedness. “Alan, that’s very trusting of you, and very generous. “

  “No problem,” he nodded. “I know you’ll be careful with it. I cleaned all the junk out of it—I think it should hold you all. It’s only supposed to hold ten people, but it’s a calm night, and I don’t think you’ll have too much trouble. I know you know how to drive it, Rachel.”

  “Sure,” Rachel said. “Do you need a ride back?”

  “Nah. I can walk back to my house. It’s not far. Besides, there’ll be less people in the boat that way.”

  “How can we get it back to you?” Rachel asked.

  “Just leave it on your beach, and I promise I’ll come back and get it before sunrise.”

  Rachel looked at the other girls. They were clearly disappointed, but Prisca shrugged.

  “We’ll miss you, Alan.”

  “Thanks. Like I said, I’m really sorry this came up. We were all looking forward to it.” He handed Rachel the keys.

  “Why don’t you just show me everything, just in case?”

  “Okay.” He and Rachel started towards the boat, but Debbie and Linette barged ahead of them and jumped in first. The rest of the girls followed.

  As usual, there was some scrambling about in the dark to get places.

  “Shoot! Sorry, I stepped on someone’s foot,” Alan’s voice came through the dimness.

  “It was mine,” Debbie piped up.

  “If that was you, why didn’t you yell?” he asked in disbelief.

  “I’m trying to learn to be tough,” Debbie said.

  Alan turned on the dashboard light and showed Rachel the controls. “And just in case,” he said, “Here’s the emergency gear. There are flares here—you break them to light them—and also there’s an alarm. You turn it on here. That’s if you’re stranded, or sinking, or attacked by pirates, or whatever. It’s pretty loud.”

  “Awesome,” Rachel put her hands on the steering wheel and felt ready to go. “Thanks for setting this up for us, Alan.”

  “No problem. Like I said, I’m sorry about the mess-up. Save a piece of cake for me.”

  “I’ll save you mine, since I can’t eat any,” Prisca informed him.

  Alan scrambled back onto the shore, and the rest of the sisters got into the boat. It was congested. All the seats were full, and some sat on the floor. Alan untied the boat and gave it a heave forward, and they drifted out of the willows towards the island. After they were sufficiently away from the shore, Rachel started the motor and thought suddenly, I wonder if Paul made it on board. Unexpectedly alarmed, she looked over her shoulder. After a brief search, she turned back, stifling a laugh. Paul was hunched up in the back corner of the boat, a black lump, and Linette and Debbie were sitting on his back.

  The other sisters apparently didn’t notice or care to notice. As they chugged through the water, the boat noticeably dragging with its overload, the sisters chattered about the usual things, with eager anticipation. Rachel concentrated on driving the boat, only half listening.

  When they neared the portico, the girls fell silent. The stone steps were lit with small candles, and the house itself was ablaze with light.

  nineteen

  Rachel and her sisters stared in awe. Michael and a group of men stood on the quay, waiting for them. As Rachel pulled up, Michael stepped forward. “Throw me the rope,” he said. “I’ll tie up.”

  He was more dressed up, with a gray silk shirt and a blue jacket, his hair slicked back—all in all, he looked even more handsome than usual.

  He gave a hand to Prisca, the first to step off the boat. “The birthday queen. My, you look radiant tonight.”

  “Thank you, Michael,” Prisca said. With her hair swept softly back into a sophisticated bun at the nape of her neck, Rachel thought her younger sister looked older than her now-sixteen years.

  “But where are the others?” Michael asked, helping the other sisters out of the boat. “Alan? Keith? Pete?”

  “They couldn’t come,” Cheryl said, and told them of the last minute-change in plans.

  Michael’s face fell. “Well, then it doesn’t work as well as I thought,” he said. “I promised everyone a dance partner tonight, but seeing that the other fellows are missing, we’ll be short, just as we usually are.”

  “That’s okay,” Tammy said loyally. “We’re used to having fun here, and we can do the same tonight.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Michael said, giving an arm up to Rachel. “Debbie, Linette, aren’t you coming?”

  “We’re just fixing our nails,” Debbie called up. Neither of them had moved from their ‘seat,’ and both were busy with nail files. “We’ll come out in a minute.”

  “Suit yourself,” Michael said, turning away. “Rachel, you look ravishing. Prisca, enchanting. Come and meet my friends.”

  Rachel looked around. Dillon, Mark, and Brad were still here, of course. Rachel had noted that the guests of the rich seemed to stay on indefinitely. I can understand why, she thought.

  The new guests were introduced as fraternity brothers of Michael’s. “Rachel, meet Craig and Todd. And Prisca, meet Brandon.”

  Brandon had a smooth, handsome face, dark hair, and large blue eyes. He was young looking, even though Rachel was sure he had to be at least twenty-five. He took Prisca’s hand and shook it, flashing a movie star’s grin. “Hi, Prisca.”

  “Hi,” Prisca breathed, her acquired sophistication temporarily melting. Michael winked at Rachel.

  “Let’s go up to the house,” he said.

  He took Rachel’s arm and Brandon took Prisca’s arm, and Michael led them across the portico to the stone steps, which were lit w
ith candles in paper bags. The other guys took two girls each. Casting a glance backwards, Rachel saw that the other girls had immediately paired up with their buddies. Good, she thought. Then she looked around at the enchantment they were entering.

  As they approached the house, it seemed to stretch and broaden before them. Rachel made out a veranda that wrapped itself around the three-story house. There were numerous windows, most of them lit. As they climbed the last of the stone steps, three broad wide steps led up to the house itself, to French doors opening out on to a wide deck.

  The other girls couldn’t help oohing and aahing as they approached the house, but Rachel was silent, entranced by the beauty. Michael led her through the doors to a living room where a buffet table was set out. Candles flickered in silver candlesticks over a generous repast of appetizers and desserts, with a round white birthday cake in the center, studded with sixteen candles. Jazz music came softly from hidden speakers.

  The girls exclaimed over the preparations, and Michael said, “First things first,” and lit a wooden taper from the candles, then lit the birthday candles on the cake.

  They all sang, “Happy Birthday!” and Prisca enthusiastically blew out the candles, laughing and waving away the smoke. “I’m getting so old!” she panted.

  Michael cut her the first slice, put it on a paper napkin, and handed it to her. She thanked him, and then at once, all the sisters remembered.

  “Oh my gosh!” Prisca gasped first. “Michael, I’m so sorry—I can’t eat this. I went to the doctor’s today, and he told me I have a wheat allergy and glucose intolerance.”

  “You’re kidding,” Michael said slowly, and Rachel prayed he wasn’t angry.

  “No, I wish I was, oh, I wish I was!” Prisca moaned. But she looked over the other food and brightened. “But there’s so much here I’m sure I’ll be fine. And this does look so delicious. You all will have to eat an extra piece for me. Brandon, would you start with this one?”

  She went on so gaily, slicing the cake for the rest of them, and Rachel observed the cloud on Michael’s brow pass.