| "My Turning Pointe" Chapter 2 Dance was an entirely separate world, one without boundaries or words. There were no lies in this world. Your emotions were laid out for the entire world to see. �And five, six, seven, eight. Shoulders down! Fluer! Such romb de jamb! Come on, girls, together, please.� I flew across the room, determined to show Madame that I was focused. At the same time, though, it was hard not to have a ridiculous smile on my face as I leapt across. I was free here. This was where I belonged. Here, completely free. My mother was a dancer, too. One with no time for babies. When class ended, I slipped off my shoes into my bag which I slung over my shoulder. I stood outside with a few other girls, talking about class. We still had our white scarves in our hair and wore our tarlatan dancing shifts, which had no sleeves and came up past our knees. A mother and her child passed us. �Bare legs in the street. What won�t they do?� �Esmeralda!� I sighed and turned around. �Can I talk to you?� I followed Madame to a bench, where she sat me down and examined my foot in her hand, bending and flexing it. �Your bones are small, and your arches are beautiful. Very high. They�re flexible, too. Dancers with flexible feet like yours are brilliant jumpers. There�s a certain spring. But you�ll have to work hard to strengthen them.� Madame cocked her head to the side. �I was watching you today. You were good. As good as I�ve known for a while that you can be. Better than what I�ve been seeing this month.� She looked at me, dark eyes narrowed, like she was trying to figure me out. �You will attend no further classes with your friends and Clopin. You will no longer study acrobatics, you will no longer study character dancing, you will no longer study singing, music, or acting. In the future, you will only receive instruction in classical dance, and all of that instruction will come from me. You will be the first to come entirely under my teaching. Fluer is the best all-around girl I�ve seen in years, but you--you have the potential to be an artist. Do you want to be an artist?� I pulled a second pair of dance shoes out of my bag. �These were my mother�s shoes. She was just like me. She loved dance more than anything else. I know that because it�s what she chose.� I held onto the wall of the bridge overlooking the Seine as though it were a barre, carefully practicing my plies and tendus. I glanced down at my reflection in the water. Me, a dancer. My best non-dance, non-gypsy friend, Meg Fonteyn came running towards me. �I heard about your audition! You�re going to be in the Festival!� I wasn�t ready to tell anybody the entirety of what Madame had said to me. �I�m so excited for you!� Meg jumped up and down, her silver ringlets bouncing. Then her face darkened. �Esmeralda, go.� I started to leave, but it was too late. I turned around. He was tall, with graying black hair and a long hooked nose. Maybe twenty-five, thirty years older than me, so no more than forty-seven years old. Meg swept into a curtsy that looked like a souffl� falling in upon itself. I think it was the only graceful thing that she was capable of. �Judge Frollo.� I had no idea who this man was, but I hated the sick, ass-holier-than-thou sneer that he was giving me. He nodded at Meg. �Mademoiselle Fonteyn.� The man turned to me. �So you�re performing at the Festival of Fools?� He raised one eyebrow, daring me to question him. I crossed my arms. �It�s something to do.� �And what do you do?� �I�m a dancer.� Frollo reached out a long finger and twirled one of my black curls around it. �How very�appropriate.� I pulled away and tossed my hair back behind my shoulders. �Don�t touch me.� His eyes narrowed. �I�ll see you tonight, Mademoiselle Fonteyn.� He left. �He�ll see you tonight?� Meg turned away from me. �At the evening Mass.� A pause. She turned around. �You should come.� �What? No, I don�t do God.� Meg rolled her eyes. �Oh, come on. I�ll be bored out of my mind without you. Besides, you don�t even have class tonight.� I sighed. �Sure. I�ll go.� |