February 2020 Flash Lit 7 - Counsel of Elders

“At the next peg the Queen turned again, and this time she said ‘Speak in French when you ca’n’t think of the English for a thing—turn out your toes as you walk—and remember who you are!’” Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 2

Madame Natasha, had, of course, a Russian accent that seemed to echo off her cheekbones into the hard corners of the ballet studio.  The pink-slippered girls under her gaze kept their backs straight, their legs turned out from the hip sockets, and their toes pointed lest she find a fault upon which to discourse at length and at volume.  Today, unfortunately, Alicia’s mind had been wandering with the dust motes that circled in the last of the afternoon sunlight.

“Pas de chat!  Pas de chat!” Madame cried.  “Cats are graceful!  Light!  Airy!  You are doing pas d’éléphant!  And worse!  Not on beat!  Again!”

Alicia straightened her shoulders and repeated the combination, doing steps named in French, transmitted in Russian-inflected English, to the music of a Norwegian composer.  Her oppressed Irish and Mexican ancestors were surely laughing somewhere at this unexpected cultural salad.  “Better,” Madame grudgingly acknowledged.

After the reverence, the girls sprawled on the floor, all chattering and changing slippers for sneakers, wrapping themselves in baggy sweatshirts and jeans.  The serene, aloof faces of ballerinas turned back into twelve-year-olds with braces and social studies homework.  They left in a cluster.

Madame turned to the record player.  It was time to go home, feed Chester the orange cat, take a bath with Epsom salts to soothe the aches of a lifetime of overuse injuries.  But first, she put the needle down once more and, lightly, quickly, executed six perfect leaps as she did before in the hall of the mountain king so long ago.