Dream Chaser

by Angie Stanton

  This woman lived in Timbuktu. It took half an hour to get across town to my voice teacher’s house in Middleton. I easily found it, a refurbished Victorian in an older neighborhood. I parked on the street, grabbed my music, and slowly climbed the steps to her house. Now that I stood outside her stained glass front door, the reality of why I was here hit me straight on. Crap. This woman was supposed to teach me how to sing. On stage. In front of a thousand people.

  Double crap.

  I rang the doorbell and waited. A tiny woman, who appeared to be in her late thirties, yanked the door open.

  “Hi, you must be Willow.” She smiled at me with optimism. Little did she know how much work this would take. I nodded. She must have been a former beauty. She was still pretty, but her face looked like she’d lived a little hard or maybe worshipped the sun too much.

  “Come on in. I’m Gloria.”

  I stepped carefully onto her entry mat, not wanting to track snow in her house and have her mad at me right off.

  “Just kick your shoes off and hang your coat on the rack.” She indicated the old-fashioned coat rack in the corner. “We’ll be working in here.”

  I obeyed and followed her into a front room with a huge picture window looking out onto the street. The sparse room held only a love seat with embroidered pillows edged with lace, a couple of floor lamps, and an upright piano, which faced the wall.

  “Have a seat.” She motioned to the antique love seat. I sat down and gripped my music like a life preserver. She pulled the piano stool over, sat down, and faced me, her hands placed on her legs. “So you’re Tyson’s dance prodigy?”

  “Excuse me?” Dance prodigy? She must have heard wrong.

  “Tyson raves about you and says you’ve saved the show.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” What exactly had Tyson told her, and what had he been smoking?

  “I’m so glad to meet you and happy to help out. Tyson and I go way back to when he first got to New York. Back then, when I wasn’t in a show, I gave voice lessons. It was a great run, but then I met my husband, and we didn’t want to raise a family in the city.”

  “Oh,” I said, not sure how to respond.

  “I still do shows on occasion. Mostly opera as guest performer.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive.” Except that it made me feel even smaller.

  “Enough about me. Tyson tells me your vocals could use some help, and that your biggest issue is lack of confidence.”

  “Yeah, singing isn’t really my thing. I mean, I’m in choir, but I’m no soloist.”

  “Well, let’s warm up and see what you’ve got.” Gloria wheeled her stool back to the piano. “You can stand here next to the piano. Leave your music on the stand.”

  Standing there in front of her without music, my hands started to shake. I don’t know why I was so nervous, maybe because I hated the idea of singing in front of people. She better be able to cure me of that, too.

  “We’ll start with some scales.” She played a chord and then her fingers punched out each note. She sang with me the first run, which was horrifying because her voice was totally perfect. It reminded me of the time my parents took me to see Wicked at the Overture Center. The singers were so amazing. Their voices were clear and pure and filled the entire theatre. Gloria’s was just like that.

  She hit the next chord and let me sing this one on my own. The decibel level in the room dropped to almost none.

  “This time give me more. Louder. Sing from your belly button.”

  Huh? I didn’t know how to sing from my belly button, so I sang as loud as I could. We changed from ahs to oohs. She didn’t look at me as I sang; she just listened, staring off into space. She made me sing higher and higher until my voice cracked.

  “Sorry.”

  Gloria sat deep in thought for another minute and then looked at me. “You have a lovely voice, you just don’t know how to use it.”

  After that she had me hooting like an owl and skipping around the room to shake off my nerves about singing. She had me lie on the floor with a book on my stomach to learn how to breathe and then do a bunch of other insane things.

  An hour later, I left, feeling more confused than ever, with a bill for fifty dollars and a schedule for three lessons a week until further notice. Major crap. My parents weren’t made of money. I didn’t even know if the lessons were going to help.

  Dejected, I drove back across town and wondered how Jilly and the cheer squad had done. I hadn’t talked to her in a couple days and I really missed her, but that didn’t mean I missed cheer. Not at all.

  Trying to learn all this show stuff was a steep price to pay to get out of flying. I really wanted to go home and crawl under an afghan with Breezy and play cats cradle. Instead I drove straight to Miss Ginny’s. It was already getting dark out, but the lights were on.

  Once I was inside, she gave me a big hug. “Good to see you!”

  “Is it okay I showed up?” I didn’t want to intrude.

  “Of course. You are always welcome here.” She beamed. “I’m surprised you’re here so late. You must have had a really long day!”

  “I have, but I need to get this right or I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” After the voice lesson, my ego was bruised, my body ached, and I was dog tired. Part of me wanted to cry, but instead I sucked it up, changed into dance clothes, and met Miss Ginny in the largest of her six studios.

  I stretched out, warmed up, then slowly worked through each of the dances I’d learned so far. Miss Ginny helped me break them down and polish each step.

  “Willow, chin down. Relax your shoulders.”

  I made the changes.

  “Much better.”

  She corrected my turn out and extension. She watched like an eagle and had me repeat the leaps and spins until they felt natural and second nature.

  If there is one thing I love, it’s dance. I guess I forgot that for a while. Now that I was back, and immersed in it, I realized how good it felt to move around the floor. Even after a crappy day like today when I was so exhausted I could fall asleep in a chair. So I didn’t sit down. I kept going. I was determined to catch up and to get it right. I didn’t believe what Gloria said about me saving the show, but I was sure going to do everything I could not to ruin it. Even if that meant pushing books up with my stomach from Gloria’s floor and spending extra time on my form with Miss Ginny.

  Finally, we’d covered every number I’d learned so far.

  “Good work. You should be pleased with yourself,” Miss Ginny stated in her matter-of-fact way.

  “Thanks.” I slouched unable to hold good posture for another moment. “Thank you again for letting me come and practice. I really needed it.”

  “I’m so happy to see you in the lead role. As I said before, my door is always open to you. I want you to come here anytime you need to.” She walked me out to the office area. “In fact, I want you to take this and use it anytime you need.”

  She took my hand and placed a key in it. “Just be sure to lock the doors after you’re inside for safety and turn the lights off when you leave.”

  I stared. “Are you sure?” The studio was her life. I’d never heard of her giving anyone a key, but knowing I could come here by myself and run numbers without worrying who watched would be heaven. No more being ridiculed by an inquisitive eight-year-old sister or a judgmental teen terror named Chloe.

  “Absolutely.” She smiled like my grandma does when she see me. “I have the utmost faith and trust in you Willow.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be very careful with it.” Her confidence helped wash away the ill taste of my struggles with the show. I hugged her with the key held tight in my fist.

  Chapter 14

  You know how sometimes you’re stuck in a dream and you can’t wake up? Or you know you’re dreaming, but you’re kind of awake at the same time? That was Sunday morning. I dreamt that I was dancing, because, gee, I sure hadn’t done much of that in the last couple of days. But in this dr
eam, it was the day before opening night and I didn’t know any of the steps, so I was trying to fake it. But I stood front and center, and Chloe kept laughing at me.

  I had this fake smile plastered on my face like little girls in a beauty pageant. Grin so big your fillings show, and then the audience will like you, right? Then Eli grabbed my arm and shook me because I kept messing up, but I couldn’t stop dancing. As Eli kept shaking me, I heard Breezy.

  “Wake up, Willow, wake up.”

  In my dreamy haze I wondered why Breezy was onstage during the show. Then Dream Eli looked at me like he wondered why I was sleeping on stage during our dance.

  “Willow, Twinkie had another shaky thing.” I heard Breezy’s distant voice cry.

  I kept trying to dance, but my arm hurt from Eli and Breezy hitting me. Then I realized Breezy was actually hitting me.

  “What!” I startled awake so fast, I wasn’t sure where I was for a second. Then the fuzziness cleared, and I saw Breezy on the edge of my bed with a worried face. No Eli.

  “Twinkie did that shaky thing and pooped and everything.”

  I blinked a couple times to clear away the cobwebs. “Oh no! Is she okay?” I jolted up in bed. My voice sounded low and rough like sandpaper. Not sure if it was from my owl hooting yesterday or just waking up.

  “The shaking stopped, but she’s just lying there in my room, staring at nothing.” Breezy’s lower lip quivered.

  I bolted out of my warm bed and rushed to her room. My muscles played a repeat of yesterday. I ignored it the best I could and did kind of a speed-limp walk. Dad kneeled on the floor next to Twinkie, who lay stretched out on her side. When I got to her, she looked at me and wagged her tail.

  “There you go. See, Breezy. She’s going to be all right.” Dad pet Twinkie’s side.

  Breezy stood behind me, keeping distance between her and our mysteriously sick dog.

  “Has she had any others?” I asked under my breath. Dad gave a slight nod. I chewed at my lip.

  “Looks like Twinkie and I are going for another check-up, aren’t we girl,” he said in a cheery voice for Breezy’s sake.

  Breezy wrapped her arms around my neck, her head plastered to mine. I reached up and patted her arms. “Don’t worry,” I said. “The vet will get her all fixed up.”

  “Promise?” Her voice squeaked with emotion.

  “I promise the vet will do everything he can to make her feel better,” Dad said.

  Her little head nodded against mine, her arms still wrapped tight around my neck like a rubber band around a newspaper.

  “And we better call mom, too,” Breezy added.

  “Yes, that’s a good idea,” Dad agreed.

  “How about pancakes?” I suggested, knowing it was the quickest way to release the static cling of Breezy.

  “Really?!” She lit up.

  “Sure, we’ll make this a special day.”

  “Good plan,” Dad said. “This afternoon, after I get back from the vet, I have to go down to the Memorial Union for an art show. How about you take Breezy sledding? We got a fresh two inches last night.”

  “Yeah! Can we? Please.” Breezy bounced behind me.

  I gave Dad the evil eye. Smooth move. Taking Mini Me sledding was the last thing I wanted to do, next to, say, singing a solo in front of hundreds of people. But on the bright side, it was definitely a step up from flipping around in the air for cheer.

  “Fine,” I groaned. “But not right now. Later, when I’m awake.” And hopefully in less physical pain.

  We destroyed the kitchen making pancakes, which I was able to do only because it was an Amish pre-made mix and Breezy helped. Then I did more yoga in hopes of stretching out my sore, knotted muscles. This time Breezy joined me.

  Dad came home with Twinkie. He said the vet gave him some pills to help control the seizures and that Twinkie should resume normal activities.

  Breezy wouldn’t let the sledding thing go, so finally I gave in and bundled her up.

  “We should bring Twinkie, too,” she informed me.

  “I’m not bringing a dog to the sledding hill. She’ll get hit by some out-of-control kid on a snow board.” I hauled a sled out of the basement.

  “No, she won’t. I’ll take care of her. She’s had a bad day and needs to be cheered up” Breezy stuck her hands on her hips, which looked funny in her puffy snow suit.

  “Breezy, it’s a long walk with you, a sled, and the dog.”

  “Walk? You want to go for a walk, girl?” Breezy patted her legs.

  Twinkie jumped up and nearly knocked Breezy over.

  “You want to go sledding don’t you?” Breezy let Twinkie lick her face, which always grosses me out.

  “Come on Willow, she wants to go.” Twinkie’s tail wagged like mad.

  “Fine, but you have to hold her leash on the way there and back.”

  “Goody!” She hugged Twinkie around the neck.

  So I pulled on my Dad’s old winter coat, Mom’s Sorel’s and a pair of mittens from the bottom of the mis-matched box of winter stuff.

  I trudged six blocks to the sledding hill between Lake Monona and Atwood Avenue. Breezy sang De Colores, a Spanish song she learned at school; Twinkie trotted along happy as a clam.

  Eli and I used to love to sled. We started coming here right after we met during the third grade; it felt like yesterday. We never went home until we were so cold we could barely hold the sled rope through our frozen mittens.

  But now sledding is a pain in the ass. So is Eli.

  The hill was packed; nothing like a couple inches of fresh snow to bring out every grade schooler in the city. Within seconds of arrival, Breezy spotted a friend from school and took off.

  I pulled down Dad’s coat so it would cover my butt and sat on it in the snow to avoid getting my jeans wet. Twinkie lay next to me and watched the kids, her head on her paws and her tail wagging. I put my boot on the end of her leash to keep her near me.

  While Breezy squealed and yelled at me to watch, my mind wandered. Things look so different when you’re older. This hill used to be huge, but now it wasn’t big at all. Funny how perspective changes when you grow up. It used to be a wide-open expanse, but now all the trees and bushes were overgrown, and a gas station and convenience store stood next to a new apartment building and a video rental store.

  Twinkie stood up and started to whine.

  “What’s the matter girl?” I ruffled her fur.

  She started pacing and acting strange. I leaned forward to pet her. “Are you okay?” Her eyes looked wild and frightened.

  “It’s okay, you’re fine.” I shifted to get closer to her. My boot came off the end of her leash about the time she decided to bolt. She took off like a shot down the hill toward the buildings and the road.

  “Twinkie!” I yelled, already on my feet after her. “Breezy, stay here with Ally, don’t you dare leave!” I shouted as I skittered my way down the hill.

  Twinkie ran into bushes then darted around the front of the video store and disappeared.

  Please don’t run out in the road and get killed.

  “Twinkie! Here girl,” I yelled and ran to the video store. They had huge evergreen shrubs that covered both front corners of the store. “Twinkie! Twinkie!” I yelled, feeling kind of stupid as people who were returning their movies gave me odd looks. I searched through one group of bushes. Nothing. “Twinkie!

  “I saw a dog run around the corner of the gas station,” said a woman as she climbed back into her minivan.

  “Thanks.” I took off that direction.

  “Twinkie!” I yelled again when I reached the gas station, now out of breath. Where the heck had she gone? I stood there, looking around, and wondered what to do. She’d never run off before. What if I couldn’t find her?

  “Twinkie!” I yelled. This could not be happening. Cars kept pulling in and out; she could easily be hit.

  A couple guys walked to their car. “Twinkie, Twinkie,” they mocked in high-pitched voices and laughed
.

  Jerks.

  I gave them a dirty look then noticed a sporty blue jeep parked at the pump. Eli leaned against the gleaming vehicle, looking really good. The collar of his coat was flipped up and his hair was blowing in the wind. Then he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. He had been watching me make a fool of myself. He shook his head and chuckled.

  “Need some help?” He stood there all cool and arrogant. I wanted to smack him.

  “No, I got this,” I said, disgusted.

  “Whatever you say.” He turned and got into his overpriced wheels and drove off.

  Asshole. I guess our truce only existed during rehearsals.

  I turned to look for Twinkie, too embarrassed to scream her name again. I walked around the side of the gas station. Nothing. I went around back and found her in the snow by the dumpsters. She was having another seizure.

  I ran over and knelt in the snow in front of her while she spasmed out of control. Her mouth was locked open, and her eyes looked like a marbles.

  “Oh girl, I’m sorry.” I reached to pet her; her body was rigid as it convulsed over and over. Helpless, I covered my mouth and watched my beautiful dog trapped in her own body.

  It lasted a couple more minutes then slowed to a few twitches and stopped. Seconds later, she gasped a huge breath, and I realized she couldn’t breathe during the seizure.

  “Oh sweetie, it’s over now. It’s over.” I lay in the snow next to her and spoke quietly in her ear and petted her. She didn’t move other than her heavy breathing. Her eyes didn’t budge either. “It’s okay, girl,” I soothed.

  Finally her tail gave a little twitch. Thank goodness.

  * * *

  That night, while I worked on memorizing lines, Dad came in and sat down.

  “So what did the vet really say this morning?” I patted the floor and Twinkie ran to me as if nothing had happened.

  “Where’s Breezy?” He glanced around.