Dream Chaser

by Angie Stanton

  “I’m so mad! I can’t even talk to you right now! I have no idea what to say.” He shook his head in a combination of disbelief and frustration. “I gotta get out of here.” Eli stormed off stage left.

  I went stage right back to my dressing room. Jason grimaced as I trudged by. I let him down and made him look like a fool. “I’m sorry,” I said as I passed.

  How many more times did I need to apologize? As I walked past more of the cast, I received silent stares. It felt like the first week of rehearsals all over again.

  Thankfully, Samantha wasn’t in my dressing room. She probably went to calm Tyson down after the train wreck he'd just witnessed. I changed and hung up my sweaty costume. Tyson’s voice came over the intercom. “No notes tonight. We all have a lot to think about. Let’s hope everyone got the jitters out of their systems. Go home and get a good night sleep; we have a big day tomorrow.”

  I stared at my made-up face in the dressing room mirror. I looked amazing. I almost didn't recognize myself. The make up lady knew her stuff, but behind the artful cosmetics were sad, lonely eyes. I grabbed some wet wipes and washed the fake beauty away. Finally, my normal, scared self looked back.

  That girl I knew well.

  With nothing left to do, I decided to face the music and go find Tyson. The backstage area was quiet except for Jerry and a couple of stagehands finishing up.

  “Hey Jerry, have you seen Tyson?”

  “Yeah, he left a few minutes ago for the hospital to check on Sophie.”

  “Thanks.” Tyson had more worries than just me, but I’m sure I must be one of his bigger headaches.

  Outside, the mild night air reminded me spring was almost here. I decided to walk for a while instead of calling home for a ride. Only occasional piles of snow remained from our stormy winter. They’d become dirty grey piles of ice on the street corners. Walking helped clear my head.

  I knew why I couldn’t fall off that ledge, but why did I have to lie and promise I could? Why couldn’t I be honest and admit I couldn’t do it. This was not the girl I wanted to be. I hated being afraid, and lately it seemed I was always afraid of something. Cheerleading, singing, falling, what next?

  I reached a large intersection and had to wait for the walk signal. A car pulled up with a bunch of the cheer kids. They must have been cruising around downtown after the show. One of the guys noticed me and pointed and laughed. I tried to look away, but my eyes locked onto Jilly in the back seat. She didn’t laugh. She looked back and gave a small grimace. It’s the most communication I’d had with her in over a month. She saw my misery. She knew me well. The light changed, and the car squealed away.

  I didn’t blame them for laughing. Tonight, I embarrassed myself in the show. They witnessed my screw-ups. Plus, they were still ticked off that I quit cheer and they didn’t win State let alone get a shot at Nationals again.

  The walk sign changed, and I crossed the street. What a fine pickle I was in this time. Block after block I walked as the night grew late and the moon came up. What was it my dad said? I could do whatever I wanted, and it would all work out one way or another. True. Life goes on. It’s our choice how we deal with challenges.

  By the time my feet hit our front porch, I knew what I wanted to do. The porch light glowed, and Mom and Dad waited in the candlelit living room.

  “Hey hon’, how’d it go?” Mom asked the moment I walked in. They were terrible at hiding their concern.

  “Horrible. Anything and everything went wrong.”

  “Oh no. Like what?” Mom asked.

  “Let’s just say between faulty mics, missed cues, and my pearl necklace in the nightclub scene breaking and beads rolling all over the stage; it was less than mediocre.”

  “Ouch.” She cringed.

  “And?” Dad asked, waiting for the inevitable.

  “And I didn’t do the fall,” I sighed. “I’m a failure.”

  “You are not a failure. Never have been and never will be,” he said.

  “Your dad is right,” Mom said. “You work harder to succeed than anyone I know.”

  “That’s not true. I failed when I quit cheer, and if I don’t get my shit together I’m going to fail Foods and History.”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “How do you fail Foods?”

  “Haven’t you seen her cook?” Mom said under her breath.

  “Oh, got it. But that’s beside the point.” He refocused. “So what happens next? Is Tyson going to change the ending?”

  “Not if I can help it. I think I might have figured out how I can do the fall, but I need to borrow the car. Is that okay?”

  “Of course, but it’s after eleven. Where are you going?”

  “I’d rather not say until I know it’ll work.”

  Mom and Dad shared a concerned glance. “All right, but promise to call if you need anything!”

  “I will.” I scooped the keys off the side table in the entryway and left. I knew what I was going to do, but I couldn’t do it alone. I fished my phone out of my pocket, called Jilly and held my breath that she’d answer.

  Chapter 38

  Twenty minutes later, Jilly unlocked the front door of her uncle’s gymnastics studio.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” I said.

  She flipped on the lights and locked the door behind us. “I figured I couldn’t let you crash and burn like that. After the cheer squad blew it at State, we need something for the school to be proud of.” She grinned her dazzling smile.

  “Before we start, I just want to say again how sorry I am I bailed on you by quitting cheer. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I know, and I was a total bitch too,” she said.

  “Yeah, you pretty much were.” I grinned and she hugged me. Her embrace took a little of the weight off my shoulders.

  “Good. Now that we got that mushy stuff out of the way, where do you want to begin?”

  “The pit,” I said.

  “All right. Let’s get this party started.” She flipped on lights as we made our way into the huge padded floor gymnasium complete with balance beams, parallel bars, giant mats and, at the far end, a large open pit filled with giant foam squares.

  This used to be one of our favorite spots to goof off. Plus it was great for learning cheer stunts. You could do all the twists and rotations and fall into the safe, deep cushioned comfort of the pit.

  “Jump in anytime, ” she teased as I stood and stared at the pit. “We haven’t got all night. Okay, actually we do have all night, but it would be nice to a get a little sleep.”

  I sized up my nemesis and knew this was going to take a while. I looked square at Jilly. “That is the problem. I can’t just jump in.” I bit my lip and raised my brows.

  “Seriously?” She finally realized the depth of my problem. “That bad?”

  “Oh yeah.” I nodded, contemplating the mound of spongy foam and knowing I would sink once in it. That was scary.

  “How about if I hold your hand, and we jump in together?”

  I considered it, then shook my head. “Nope. I don’t think so.” Finally I could speak honestly about my fears. It felt good.

  “You could sit on the side of the pit and jump from there?” she offered.

  I cringed. It wasn’t far, but still. That sensation of not being stable just freaked me out. “Could we get a rope so I can climb in from the side? At least until I get used to it? That way I’m always holding on to something.”

  “Sure. Good idea.” She looked around the gym for a rope. “While I do that, why don’t you get on the trampoline and bounce a little. Remember what it feels like to feel a little air under your feet.”

  “Do I have to?” I scrunched my nose up.

  “Yes! You have to!”

  This was the kind of tough love I needed. Soft and gentle. So I climbed onto the trampoline where Jilly and I used to practice triple flips. My heart raced as I worked to keep my feet solid on the pad. I lightly walked toward the center and took little mini bounces that kept me touch
ing at all times.

  “I don’t see any air over there,” she hollered from the side of the pit where she tied a rope off to a large vault.

  I stuck my tongue out at her, but then did bounce a little bigger. My feet left the mat for at least a split instant, and I didn’t die. That was progress, so I kept at it for a while and worked my way up to a small bounce. My feet left the trampoline, and I had at least a foot of air. I just about had a coronary. But again, I didn’t die. I stopped to catch my breath.

  “Nice one. Keep it up,” Jilly yelled.

  “I think that’s good for now. Let’s try the rope now,” I yelled back.

  “Stop being a weenie. No rope until you get a good three feet of air.”

  “I hate you,” I yelled as I bounced, but inside I loved having Jilly back.

  “I hate you too,” she countered.

  Fine. So I bounced and bounced and allowed myself to leave the mat a little more and a little more. It no longer terrified me; I had the rhythm down. I did it over and over again.

  “Can you believe how high we used to launch off this thing?” I marveled.

  “Some of the best times of my life,” she said. “You can still do it if you want.”

  “Whoa, slow down your horses, honey. Remember, baby steps!”

  “Looks good. I now officially graduate you to use a rope to climb down into the pit.”

  “Oh goody!” I mocked, climbing down from the trampoline and not jumping off with an eagle jump like I used to.

  We spent the next fifteen minutes with me lowering myself with the rope into the unstable foam squares. I bounced a little in the pit and would climb back out and do it again. We worked up to me sitting on the ledge to jump in, and eventually to Jilly holding my hand and jumping in together. Of course, I was tentative and had my hand out to catch myself.

  “See, you’re doing great!” she said.

  “Yeah, if you’re with me on stage tomorrow night I can jump two feet into a pit of foam.”

  “Stop being so hard on yourself. Look how far you’ve come in, what? An hour and a half.”

  It was one in the morning already! “We need to speed this thing up. At this rate, I’ll be here until after curtain tomorrow night. What’s next boss?”

  “You need elevation. We’re going to work you up little by little so you’re jumping in from higher levels. First we’ll bring a couple of aerobic steps and stack them for you. After that we’ll use a chair, and then we’ll slide the vault over, then higher and higher ’til we reach…how high?”

  “Fifteen feet.” I cringed.

  “We’ll have to haul over the giant utility ladder.”

  And that’s how it went. I started from those damned aerobic steps. It terrified me to be elevated another two feet off the floor. But I did it again and again. Each time using the rope to help pull myself out of the pit. It didn’t take long before the exertion of climbing through the foam to the side exhausted me. I graduated to the vault and then the ladder. Jumping from each step over and over until I didn’t feel like throwing up before I did it.

  “So tell me about Eli,” Jilly said as I climbed the ladder for the umpteenth time.

  “Huh? What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure if I had ever mentioned Eli to her or not.

  “Come on! He is totally hot, and holy cripes, the way you two dance together is criminal. I mean geez, get a room.”

  I bit back my smile and felt myself blush.

  “See! I know you! You are so into him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, actually we’re going out, but it’s complicated.” I sat on the edge of the pit to take a break.

  “A show romance! That is so cute. Seriously. You are so lucky. I would die to date a guy that cute.”

  “Right now, he pretty much hates me.” I kicked at a huge piece of foam.

  “Why?”

  I gestured to the pit.

  “Oh! You messed up the show, and he’s mad.”

  “It’s bigger than that. A lot of important people are going to be at the opening tomorrow night, and his dream is a career on stage. If I mess up, he looks bad to them, and there’s supposed to be a casting guy there.” I stood up and climbed the ladder again. Each rung took me higher. The air seemed to grow thinner and choke off my breath. My fear had returned, but I was determined to overcome it.

  “No, if you mess up, you look bad. No offense.” She pointed out.

  “None taken.” I stopped a step higher than my last fall.

  “Sounds like he’s a little arrogant, but heck, good looks trump asshole.”

  “No, he’s not an asshole at all. He’s sweet and funny and the way he kisses! Oh my!” I reached into the air and fell from the ladder into the pit with only a little scream of fright.

  “Look at you,” Jilly laughed.

  “What can I say,” I spit a piece of foam from my mouth. “I’ve fallen for him.”

  Jilly grabbed a hunk of the spongy stuff and threw it at me. “Well, won’t he be happy when he sees your fall tomorrow night!”

  “I hope so.”

  We spent another hour and a half working. The higher we moved, the easier it became. It seemed once I got used to the falling sensation, the height wasn’t as terrifying as before. Don’t get me wrong, my stomach still lurched every time, and I screamed, but Tyson had told me to scream, so it was all good.

  I finally got home around 4:30 in the morning. Mom slept on the couch.

  “I’m home,” I whispered softly.

  “How’d it go?” She sat up and blinked the sleep away.

  “Fine. I can do it. Now go back to sleep.”

  “That’s great, hon! I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  “Now get to bed and don’t set your alarm. No use making things worse by showing up exhausted,” she said pulling the blanket back over her.

  “Thank you.” I trudged up the stairs, exhausted and covered with foam bits from the pit. My arms ached from pulling myself out of the pit so many times.

  Once in my room, I pulled out my cell phone. Seven missed calls and a text. The calls were all from Tyson. Even though it was the middle of the night, I had a hunch he’d be awake. I called. Two rings and he answered.

  “Willow.” His voice sounded exhausted, but wide awake.

  “Hi. Listen, I’m so sorry about the dress rehearsal. I totally blew it. But I can do the fall and I don’t want you to worry anymore.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ve figured a way we can redo the ending without too much hassle. We just need to find an hour sometime to get in there and work it out.”

  I pushed a few buttons and hit send. “Tyson, I just sent you video of me doing the fall. I did it from eighteen feet more than twenty-five times.”

  “Willow, I can’t take any more chances.”

  “If you want me to come down to the theatre right now and show you I will, but I have a witness who can vouch for me.”

  “Really? Are you positive?”

  “Please, just look at the video.”

  “Hang on.”

  I heard him fumbling with his phone. While I waited, I plopped down on my bed and kicked off my shoes.

  “Willow?” he came back on the line. “You are awesome!” His voice lit up like I hadn’t heard in a while.

  “Hardly, but I promised I wouldn't let you down and I won’t.”

  “Thank you. Now get some sleep.”

  “No argument there.”

  “I’ll see you tonight,” he said and clicked off.

  After that I read the text from Eli.

  ‘I’m sorry for being a jerk.’

  I texted him back, ‘it was your turn.’ And sent him the video. Then I turned my phone off, closed the curtain and climbed under the covers.

  Chapter 39

  Dad pulled up outside the stage door. “Have a great show tonight!” His warm eyes wrinkled at the corners.

  “You’re supposed to say ‘break a leg’,” I said, gathering my bag off the floor. “A
nything else is bad luck.”

  “I just can’t get past the break part. I thought our goal was not to break anything.”

  “The big party is right afterwards, and please don’t wear sandals. It’s supposed to be dressy. And don’t let Breezy wear a cape or vampire teeth.”

  Dad grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll show up in proper form.”

  I reached for the door handle. Dad touched my arm. “Willow, I am so proud of you.”

  “You’re not going to cry or anything are you?”

  “No, but remember, whatever happens tonight, have fun.”

  I leaned over and gave him a big hug. “Thanks Dad.”

  As I checked in, a definite buzz lit the air. My body revved into high idle. I walked through the energy filled theatre. People milled around everywhere, going from make up to wardrobe, talking in small groups.

  I needed to be close to the action and get the feel of everything. I wanted to make sure I’d done everything humanly possible to be ready. A couple stage hands mopped the stage with a bucket of cola so it would dry and be tacky in time for the show.

  I went to Eli’s dressing room to make sure he and I were okay. He wasn’t there, but his wardrobe rack stood ready, loaded with his various costumes from tuxedo to jeans to his all-white costume for the finale. I smoothed my hand along the clothes and could almost feel his presence. In a couple hours, we’d be under the lights and hopefully delivering Tyson his dream show on a silver platter.

  Checking the time, I realized I better get to hair and make up, and I still needed to find Tyson to see if he wanted to run the fall scene before we opened. A little shiver threatened, but I stomped it down. No doubts this time. Just action.

  I dug in my bag but couldn’t find a pen to write a note. But I found an eyebrow pencil, so I fished it out. Make-up pencil poised, I hesitated. I wanted to apologize and tell Eli how much I loved him and that I wouldn’t run away from him ever again. But that was too long and probably too much to fit on his dressing room mirror.

  So instead, I wrote:

  You jump, I jump!

  Love, W

  And for good measure I kissed the mirror next to my W, which left a rather nice watermelon glossed lip print.