Into the Light

30. The Theater

Thank goodness for Chaim. Without his tall, impressive, imposing, imperturbable coolness beside me I would've bungled things at least a dozen times already. I'm sure of that. But he's there, a smoothly glowing figure in his creamy white suite, an impenetrable barrier between the bustle of the foyer and the only door that leads from here to the backstage area.

And Kim is resolutely staying next to him - I swear that the guy is resembling the late tham Alíeth, legendary sculptor Ossden's equally legendary lover, more and more by the day. I mean, for godssakes, still a few months back I'm sure that no power on earth, not even Chaim's most pleading look, could've persuaded him to wear a deep ruby-red 'Demieni shirt and a pair of painted-on black trousers in public. And yet that's exactly what he's wearing now, not looking in the least embarrassed although everyone entering through the front doors stops to gape at him. 'Just like Alíeth,' said Janthiesh fondly when he came in a while ago with some friends, and he should know.

Kim gives me a long-suffering look and sighs. "Toni, please at least try to stop fidgeting!"

"Good for you to say," I shoot back under my breath. "Your lover is not going on the stage in twenty minutes!"

"No, he's just keeping all those journalists and whatnot at bay," Kim hisses to me, all the while keeping the sweet half-smile intact on his face. "It's definitely good you're here and not back there. You'd have driven every one of the dancers crazy by now!"

I consider sulking, then decide against it. I want a cigarette, and I drift outside to the front staircase to enjoy one - or, well, to smoke one. Too much a bunch of nerves to actually enjoy anything else but the momentary illusion of calm it gives me. I close my eyes, inhale deep, open them again and raise my eyebrows at Chaim who is approaching with a smile on his face.

"I have appeased them for the moment," he tells me, flicks his cigarette case closed and lights up. "But I'm afraid Rith will have to talk to them afterwards."

"Are you sure they understand that the backstage is sacred area?" I ask and Chaim chuckles.

"Kim is keeping watch, with strict instructions to bite without question if anyone tries. And he's got sharp teeth."

"You would know," I agree, then almost start as I hear the bell from inside. "Oh my..."

"Relax." Chaim takes a deep drag. "That's only the second call - five minutes till the last. I still have time enough to finish this, and we'll get to our seats in good time too. We're in the box, remember."

Of course I do. The architects have managed to design two boxes in the auditorium, and we, the big sponsors, have the smaller of them for ourselves while the bigger box is packed with the dancers' closest relatives and significant others. But still I can't help fidgeting until Chaim grants me an indulgent smile and crushes the butt of his cigarette.

The place is full, sold out. The auditorium is not huge - there are limits to what can be comfortably squeezed inside an old school, however well dimensioned - but somehow it looks much bigger with all the seats taken. Funny, that; I'd have thought it would be the other way round. There's an expectant buzz in the air, a hum, a chatter, then a hush falls when the final call sounds. I tense up.

The audience is intrigued by many things, such as the austerity of the stage, and the small band of musicians who are playing in full sight of the spectators. This is a conscious decision on Rith's part. The people are used to the sumptuous props and sets of the classical style performances, and to the large but concealed orchestra. They'll have time to see elaborate sets here, too, said Rith; let them now concentrate on just watching the dance to start with.

The people are puzzled, but they are also interested and impressed. I'm definitely among the impressed ones as well. All right, so I've been there during the rehearsals, but this is the first time when I can just sit back and watch the 'kids' show what they can.

And boy, can they... The first piece, a duet for Leni and Beny, is bordering on classical, at least to start with, but the music soon picks up an altogether mesmerizing feel. It is followed by another fascinating duet, this time for two female dancers, where Aidee and Meia really show what they are made of. Each piece is different, bringing the particular talents of their performers to the spotlight. Thesh in particular makes a big impact on me; of course I know as well as the others that the blonde baby always gives his everything, but still the sheer energy and joy of dancing he radiates make me smile.

Next to me, Chaim and Kim watch with rapturous faces, gaze riveted to the stage. It takes me a while to remember that they have hardly seen any of the dance before. They haven't been haunting rehearsals, hanging on Rith's lips to hear every word of feedback she gives, cheering and encouraging the performers day after day. My friends are actually seeing something new, and judging by their expressions they are enjoying the experience tremendously.

Ahh, and Rashim then... my baby is absolutely dazzling. We first see him together with Darel and Dionn, in a piece with such speed that we're all left gasping. Their timing is impeccable, though, and they play so well together. I see it all again, the concentrated faces, eyes meeting, each one of them knowing exactly what to do and when. His second number is a meditative solo during which I hardly breathe at all, and afterwards I find it hard to join the thunderous applause. I'm too overwhelmed.

At last the gala is over, Rith is brought on the stage and just about drowned in flowers. A happy clamor fills the auditorium as people begin to pour out, and Chaim jumps on his feet.

"We'd better go and rescue Rith now," he says. "C'mon, Toni. Rashim will want to shower and take a breather before joining us, and right now there's a damsel in distress who just might appreciate some support from the flanks."

Spearheaded by Chaim, we weave our way through the crowd and to the backstage door. There are already several interested people waiting: representatives of the City Administration, a journalist from the daily paper, another from the quarterly Southern Dorelion magazine - a respected authority in all things cultural. I'm very pleased to see that the lady from the latter publication seems to be in a very good mood. There's also a mustached dark man who introduces himself as a representative of the company producing the 'Dirna This Week' calendar. A little to the side, the artist accompanying the journalists is busy with sketches - ah, so we might even have a picture in the daily paper? Perhaps in the weekend issue? That would be a publicity triumph.

"... yes, very good indeed!" the lady journalist assures Chaim, who beams at her. "Such a lot of promising young dancers you have here. They have great potential."

I find myself irresistibly gravitating closer, and she spots me.

"Ah, and how are you feeling now that there's no more need to be nervous?" The smile is indulgent; Chaim has obviously explained to her why I couldn't be made to stand still for more than a few seconds before the show. "I was just telling Mr. DelChaim how important I think it is to set the artistic level high enough at the very outset, when starting something new like this."

"Oh, I'm most pleased with their performance!" I tell her. "And they all seemed to really enjoy being on stage, too."

"That could really be seen," she agrees. "They have very good stage presence, for such young dancers. Definitely nothing to be ashamed of, they would have no trouble even in the older dance troupes around!"

My stomach makes an unpleasant lurch - what 'other dance troupes'? Oh fuck... what if Rashim wants to join another dance troupe one day, somewhere in another city... no, no thinking about such things now! "I'm glad to hear you think so," I grind out with a beatific smile, but then the door opens. Rith appears, and we must leap to her rescue as everybody wants to congratulate and interview her at once.

The dancers' relatives and friends have also gathered around, we've agreed that at least tonight everybody will come out through that door so that people get to congratulate them properly. And there they are already, freshly showered and beaming in their best suits and dresses, only to be immediately hugged and patted and grabbed by at least half a dozen pairs of arms. Rashim's parents look shy but I go to stand next to them, and when our wonderboy finally emerges, I show some superhuman self-control and let them have their turn first.

Rashim is flustered, eyes shining, oh yes, he's enjoyed performing so much! He hugs and kisses his proud parents, then melts in my arms.

"The solo... I danced it to you," he whispers into my ear and nips the lobe with his front teeth.

I have to close my eyes. Not because I'd be ashamed to let people see that I actually have tears in my eyes - oh no. Closing them just makes it easier to concentrate on willing away my body's immediate reaction to that little intimacy.

Rith is doing fine with the interviewers, and at some point I notice that a blonde little terrier has materialized by her side. Thesh, of course... but where are his parents - aren't they here to see their son performing? I try to peer surreptitiously around in an effort to locate any people who might look in the least like they could've produced a son like him, but can't see any. I frown.

"Aren't Thesh's parents here?" I murmur to Rashim who glances around as well.

"Can't see them," he sighs. "Oh, it's so stupid... he's the only kid and they never say no, they pay his lessons and all the stuff, but they just don't really approve of his dancing. Of course they wouldn't be here, either, the jerks."

So like my father, too much for comfort. Poor boy. "Well, tonight he's going to have fun with the rest of us and forget all about them!"

Rashim nods and we share a conspiratorial grin. Right about now, the catering people should be very busy in our brand new house, the chosen setting for the grand Opening Night Party. Everybody has been invited, and they are all looking forward to it. Now we just need to extricate the journalists from Rith...

I raise my eyebrows at Chaim who nods a little and smiles. Yeah, it's about time to get going.