by Jack Wallen
twelve | the grand ball
Streamers, music, and smiles festooned the inside of the Gaultier house. The string quartet was delivering a delightful rendition of Chamond L’State’s Allegro Con Diablo. The piece played like angels and devils fighting a lover’s war in paradise. Nearly the entire population of Tyler’s End was in attendance. A banner above the quartet gave praise to the occasion in glorious script:
Babbette Gaultier: Coming of the Ages
As a new attendee entered, an elder gentleman, attired in clothing worn by ‘Kind at the turn of the century, would announce the name. Those not enjoying the dance floor applauded with each announcement.
A fly on the wall would seem to spy a moment ripped from a previous era and coalesced in perfect harmony with the people of Tyler’s End.
The Coming of the Ages was a major event – especially for the daughter of one as prominent and powerful as Gorman Gaultier. The celebration marked the one hundred and fiftieth birthday of Babbette. As tradition demanded, all attendees arrived without their human masks – there was no place for false facades at the ‘Ages ceremony. Since Gorman Gaultier made the demand, no one would dare arrive masked.
“Babs,” Timely sneaked up behind her friend, wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders, and squealed. “This is the most glorious party I have ever attended.”
“Isn’t it?” Babbette responded. “Father has gone out of his way to make this a night I will never forget.”
Again Timely squealed. “Your dress! It is magnificent. Who made this for you?”
Babbette blushed and gave a nod. “It was mother’s dress. She wore it at her ‘Ages celebration.”
Another hug from Timely. “I’m going to cry now,” she said and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve. “You did not see me do that. If the wrong person saw me pull such a move, I’d be labeled a Marm for the rest of my days.”
“Oh, Timely, you’re so silly,” Babbette giggled.
“Am I, though? You know how mean girls our age can be. Well, not your age.”
“What are you saying?” Babbette playfully smacked Timely’s shoulder. “Do I look old?”
Timely merely shook her head.
“What?” Babbett questioned.
“We’re not playing that game. You are the perfect age and you are timeless. You know this. Babbett Gaultier is the most beautiful young woman in all of ‘Kind history.”
Babbette opened her mouth to complain; Timely continued on.
“…because you get your beauty from the very Queen of ‘Kind herself.”
Both Timely and Babbette made a subtle, elegant gesture of crossing their hearts and tipping their heads to the right and then to the left.
“Mother was incomparable,” said Babbette.
“And you are her very lovely likeness,” added Timely.
A swell of music and a cheer interrupted the moment. Timely released yet another squeal. “It’s the Father-Daughter dance.”
The crowd parted to allow Babbette a clear path to the dance floor. She picked up the hem of her dress and gracefully made her way to the center of the room. Gorman Gaultier stood with his arm extended toward his daughter; his regal appearance commanded every bit as much attention as Babbette’s beauty.
“My darling daughter, I would be so very honored if you would grace me with a turn around the dance floor.”
“My gallant father, I would be delighted to express my undying love and loyalty to you with a turn around the dance floor.”
Their hands met and the quartet brought the room to life with the traditional piece for the Father-Daughter dance. Som Nu Del Voise Pulance. From the ancient ‘Kindian language – One, from two we dance.
As Gorman and Babbette waltzed to the three four time, the audience stood in nearly breathless awe of the grace and beauty they embodied and inspired.
While Babbette’s waltz enchanted the captive audience, only Timely noticed the intruder threading his way through the crowd. The human face was unmistakable.
Without a seconds hesitation, Timely picked up the hem of her dress, revealing her Chuck Taylors, and gave chase. As she made her way down the grand staircase, she was able to keep her sight glued on the human boy.
Until he disappeared into the main library.
Timely picked up her pace, afraid she would lose the chance to find out what the young man was scheming. The crowd was thick – each attempting to steal a glimpse of Babbette and Gorman Gaultier.
“Move,” Timely shouted as she shoved her way through the throng. “I’ve got business to attend to.”
When she finally reached the library, the door was locked.
“Oh, this human boy,” mumbled Timely. She glanced about to make sure no one was watching and then placed her hand on the doorknob.
She could feel the electricity build at the base of her skull and then shoot down toward her hand. A brilliant blue glow lit up the space between her flesh and the metal of the knob. Had the surrounding space been silent, a high-pitched whine would have been heard, just before the lock on the door was unhinged by Timely’s magic.
The door effortlessly swung open to reveal the human boy scanning the rows of shelved books.
“Well, well, well…Scott, isn’t it?” Timely grinned as she spoke. “And what brings you back to Tyler’s End? Looking for answers to questions you shouldn’t be asking?”
thirteen | a meeting, a threat
I turned to see Timely standing in the door, a look of recognition in her eyes. Even under her mask, I was able to immediately recognize her energy…and her Chuck Taylors.
“I…” I stumbled. I knew what I wanted to say, I just wasn’t sure I had the capacity to actually follow that train of thought. “I wanted to see Babbette.”
Timely grinned wide enough to shame my uncle ‘Don, The Donkey, Maskey’. There was a reason for the nickname – his enormous grin.
“You fancy her, don’t you?”
“Ummm….” I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You shouldn’t be here, Scott. Not tonight.”
“Why?”
Timely closed the door to the library and turned back to me. She bit her lip and then spoke. “This is a very special occasion for Babbette. If her father caught you here, there’s no way of knowing what he might do.”
“I’m not doing any harm. I just want to see her.”
Timely moved to me in a blur. I shook my head, unsure if what I saw had any relationship with reality. “Your very presence here is a danger to Babbette. This ceremony is sacred to us. You have to understand how strongly we stand on tradition. It’s astonishing that you made it into the mansion tonight; your safe passage out would be a miracle.”
“I can get out. But I didn’t come all the way here to turn tail and run. I will see Babbette and I will talk with her.”
Timely stomped her foot and pursed her lips as if she was about ready to toss herself to the floor and throw an epic fit.
She didn’t.
Small miracles.
I turned. Timely attempted to stop me, but I yanked my arm from her grasp and left the library. The crowd outside the door was so thick I could no longer see the dance floor. Desperation grasped my heart and threatened to squeeze it into silence. After a few deep, relaxing breaths, I was able to force my way through the crowd until I could finally bear witness to the Father-Daughter dance.
She was beautiful beyond any possible description. The beauty and grace she personified on the dance floor was breathtaking. As she turned, her dress rose enough to give me a glimpse of her stocking-covered calf. My body was immediately electrified with need. I wanted to shout out to the world that Babbette Gaultier was mine. Of course, I couldn’t…and she wasn’t.
Before I could continue toward the dance floor, cold fingers wrapped around my arm and turned me.
“Timely,” I started, but was stopped when an over-large male, with a razor-sharp grin and golden yellow eyes stared down at me.
“Take off your ma
sk,” the male spoke in a voice that could shame every horror icon ever.
I opened my mouth to reply, but my words were intercepted by Timely.
“Brusque, he’s with me. Come, now, Skully, why must you always be the rebel?”
Without another word, Timely pulled me away from the rack of muscle and bass…away from the dancing Babbette. I stopped.
“Why are you taking me away, Timely? Is it because I’m not in costume? Had I known…”
Timely’s eyes darted around the room from behind her green-gray mask, before she pulled me in tight, forced me to the dance floor, and led me around in a strange dance.
I was never a good dancer.
“You are a lousy dancer, Scott Maskey,” Timely whispered into my ear.
“Yeah, I was just…”
“What do you want?” Timely interrupted.
“I think you know the answer to that,” I said as I spun Timely around so her line of sight met up with Babbette.
“There is much you do not know, much you shouldn’t know.”
Timely’s words were too familiar.
An idea struck me. Though my skills were severely lacking, I did everything in my power to lead my dance partner toward Babbette and her father.
“I know what you’re doing, Scott.”
“Yet you’re not stopping me.”
Timely went silent and slack as I continued the dance until we were next to Babbette. In almost perfect timing, the music came to a graceful stop and the audience offered a subtle, respectful applause. Just as I was about to turn to Babbette, Timely stepped in front of me, pulled a black mask from her pocket, and placed it on my head. It was nowhere near the level of costume the rest of the party-goers sported, but I assumed it would keep me from being tossed out.
“One dance with her and then you must leave. Do not take off that mask or I cannot promise your safety.”
I turned to Timely, smiled, and mouthed Thank you. She stepped back and gestured toward Babbette.
I spun on my heels to nearly have my breath stolen by the beauty before me. As crazy as it may seem, I expected tears to fall from my eyes and shine the floor at my feet.
The smile that spread across my cheeks was infectious. When Babbette returned the smile, it nearly dropped me to my knees. She held up her hands and nodded. I stepped in and wrapped my arms around her waist.
The second our bodies met, the music changed. Gone was the charm and wistfulness of the string quartet; in its place was the sensual rhythm of Broods’ song Never Gonna Change. The sexuality of the song was not, in the slightest, misplaced as Babbette’s scent filled my lungs with life. A mixture of vanilla and powder – exactly how I expected a beautiful girl to smell. I wanted to bathe in it, let it work its way into my flesh.
She spun me around and sung the words of the song into my ear. Her voice was almost too much beauty to bear.
“I’m glad you came,” whispered Babbette, as we again turned to the tune.
“Me too,” I replied.
Somehow, the music brought my body to life and I moved with a grace I’d never known. The room spun as a delirium took hold of my senses.
“I thought you couldn’t dance?” Babbette asked.
She was right…I couldn’t. But somehow, either the music or Babbette’s spell had my body moving like I was a peddler of desire and delight. My legs and arms felt as if they were one with the air around me.
“It’s dangerous for you here.”
“So I’ve been told. You’re worth it.”
At my words, Babbette pulled me in closer. As we spun around, I caught a glimpse of Timely looking on. Concern lined her face.
“What is the celebration for?”
Babbette giggled. The sound was a music I had never before experienced; a delicate dance of glass bells and birdsong.
“My birthday,” whispered Babbette.
I pulled back and looked into her golden eyes.
“That’s…oh my…happy birthday! I feel bad that I didn’t know.”
“How would you, Scott,” she laughed, “we’ve only known each other a very short time. Besides, this celebration is irrelevant.”
I stepped back within breathing distance and whispered into Babbette’s ear, “Nothing is irrelevant where you’re concerned.” We turned again to the music. “How old are you?”
Babbette blinked, tilted her head, and finally leaned in to whisper. “Never ask a girl her age.”
The music swelled and I haphazardly spun Babbette around. She released another round of intoxicating laughter before I pulled her back into me.
“I like you, Babbette,” I said.
“I like you too, Scott,” she whispered softly into my ear. “But I’m not sure my father would approve of this.”
“We’re just dancing,” I replied.
“For now, yes. But what is to come when the music ends? It is that which father will not bless. He is a very powerful man within our community. Should he not approve of you, bad things could come of it.”
I started to protest. Babette stopped me with a finger to my lips. Just as she was about to continue, we heard Timely’s voice rise over the music.
“Leave them alone, Skorsdan.”
Babette immediately tensed.
“Out of my way, Timely. I won’t hesitate to forcibly remove you from my path.”
When she heard the voice, Babbette stopped moving and stared deep into the wells of my eyes.
“You must leave…now.”
“I don’t understand,” I replied.
“Babbette,” the male voice called out.
“Please Scott, if you ever want to see me again, you must go now.”
“Why should I…”
Before the question was finished, Babbette tugged at my arm. “Follow me.”
We sped off, away from the dance floor and through the crowd. Revelers parted with reverence as Babbette gracefully moved through the room, her feet hardly seeming to touch the marble tiles.
“Babbette,” I called out. Her only reply was to cast a glance over her shoulder and place a finger to her lips. There was nothing for me to do but follow in silence. Babbette continued forward at a pace I could barely keep. The grip she had on my hand was unnatural for a teenage girl.
“This way,” Babbette’s voice was a mere whisper. The noise from the crowd fell off until the only sounds were our footfalls and the rustle of Babbette’s dress.
Finally, she stopped at a door, opened it, and pulled me in. Once within the confines of the room, Babbette gently closed the door shut, turned to me, and released a sigh and a laugh.
“That was exhilarating,” she said through her breath.
The room was a strange mixture of youth and age – like someone too young pretending to be someone too old. An enormous, four-poster bed, draped in black and white sheer fabric, clearly indicated we were in…
“My bedroom,” Babbette seemed to read my mind.
I swallowed…hard. This was only the second bedroom I’d been in that didn’t stink of teenage boy – the first being Sally’s. All of a sudden, my heart leaped into my throat and threatened to make a daring escape.
Babbette stepped in close to me…very close. “Did you really mean what you said as we danced?”
My brain raced back to my first-ever public dance recital. I couldn’t remember what I’d said. The lump in my throat was quickly devolving into shame. The idea that I could forget a single second spent with this personification of perfection was beyond me.
Babette wrapped her arms around my neck. “Do you really like me, Scott Maskey?”
And there it was. Salvation.
“Yes, very much.”
My reply was greeted with a smile to launch a thousand ships. It was all I could do to keep my legs from buckling. Before they did collapse, I whispered “Take off your mask.”
Babbette’s eyes widened and her smile faded. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like disappointment washed across her face. I sucked in a breat
h in order to offer up an apology – for what, I wasn’t sure. Before I could voice the words, Babbette pulled me into a kiss.
So much assaulted me in that moment. Mostly I felt as if I had been electrocuted by the soul of life itself. Underneath that inescapable condition, a memory bubbled up to the surface. I was thirteen years old. Mom and dad had been in a fight – one of their ‘big’ ones. I sat out on the porch alone, as the shouts were exchanged. Finally, Dad walked through the door and out into the night air. He sat beside me on the stone stairs and placed an arm around me.
“Is it worth it, Dad?” I asked.
In his usual fashion, Dad laughed. Never one to face adversity without a smile, my dad somehow managed to remain positive, no matter the circumstances. He finally looked to me and said, “Scott, the first time you kiss a woman, really kiss a woman – nearly lose yourself in her lips – you’ll know the answer to that question. Until that moment, you’ll always wonder.”
The memory faded away and was replaced by the sweetest taste to ever cross my lips. Orange and cinnamon, peace and joy – if peace and joy could have flavor. Then and there, I understood my father. The understanding wasn’t just an acceptance of his words and meaning – this was a profound, life-changing understanding. It was the acceptance of a new reality that allowed me to dive fully into this kiss of kisses.
The first of, hopefully, many.
The synapses of my nerves were on fire. Everything around me was alight with possibility and desire. My skin tingled; my hair danced on my scalp and arms, and my breath was knocked from my lungs by teen-revved hormones.
When Babbette finally pulled away, I thought for sure the world would end. Like a junkie refused his fix, like a dying man having his life support pulled, there was no way I’d survive without being permanently attached to Babbette’s lips.
I opened my eyes to see her looking back. Thankfully the smile that crossed her lips mirrored the one etched on my heart.
Babbette opened her mouth to speak and the door to the room crashed open.
