May 31st, One Last Perfomance

     Today we were to write a story about an ending, and a beginning.  This is what I wrote.

         Rainy Lawson knelt on the ice waiting for her portion of the program to begin.  She’d gone through several songs just to get the right feel, and once that was done, then she needed the perfect costume.  She’d chosen an elaborate white gossamer costume that looked more like a wedding gown than one a skater would wear, and she felt like a fairy princess wearing it with her raven black hair in ringlets falling to her waist. 

     As the opening strains of Send in the Clowns sounded, she unfolded herself as if she were exiting a cocoon.  With the graceful moves of a ballerina, she made the dramatic slow movements that made her look as if she were dancing on a cloud.  As the last words of the song were sung, she came to a stop in the classical stance of a ballerina in a music box.

     She heard the awed exclamations as she held the pose without moving even a fraction of an inch.  She readied herself, pulling in as much air as she was capable of in the few seconds before the second program would start.  This one would be infinitely harder because of the fast pace.  If she didn’t time herself just right she would run out of air and steam halfway through the piece.

     As if by magic, her first movement coincided with the opening note of Minuet by Chopin.  She felt the tempo lure her along as her movements grew faster to match the music.  This was one of her favorite things about ice skating.  She was able to use the ballet that she’d learned as a young child to help her add a bit of class to her routines.  She heard the ending notes and performed the motions without even having to think about it.  They were ingrained into her very being.

     Timing the beginnings and endings was the hardest, and one error would throw off the whole program.  She worked on her routines tirelessly for months before they were ready for the public.  And today was the result of her years of training.  She’d put her first skate on twelve years ago on her sixth birthday.  Now today, when she took off her skates, she would be hanging them up for good. 

    She was incredibly sad about that, because she loved skating with them.  It was only when she was on the ice that she felt truly alive, and these skates had special meaning to her.  They were the skates her father had given to her for her fourteenth birthday just three weeks before he was killed in a car crash.  As they say, though, all good things must come to an end.  And today was that end.

     She paused, holding her pose once more and allowing herself to once again pull in the needed oxygen so that she would be ready for her final moments. 

     A hush fell over the crowd as if they knew the significance of the moment…  Then, finally, the last piece that she’d chosen started to play and she fought back the tears as Butterfly Kisses came out of the sound system and she once again started the movements that were second nature to her. 

     She felt the energy of the crowd as she built to the crescendo and then neared the final moment when all movement would stop.  One last jump that drew a gasp from the onlookers and then she moved into the kneeling position she’d started the routine with. 

     Thunderous applause had her lifting her head to see flowers dropping onto the ice.  She carefully made her way around, picking up as many of the red roses that she could before finally making her way back to her seat where she would wait for her final score.  Nerves kept her from looking.  But the renewed thundering applause had her looking at last to where her score was posted and tears of joy and sorrow fell from her beautiful blue eyes.

     As she walked back to the locker room with the other girls, the melancholy feeling overrode the joy that she’d been feeling.  When she stopped at her locker, she sat down on the bench and removed the skates from her feet.  Carefully, as if they were fine China, she laid them on the bench beside her and quickly changed into her street clothes.  When she was ready, she lifted the skates in her hands and kissed each one. 

     A deep voice from behind her gently said, “It’s time, Rainy.  You should have had new shoes months ago.  We can put those in a special place so that you’ll always have them with you.”

     Rainy looked up at Mark, giving a slight nod of her head.  “I know.  But, Daddy gave me these shoes before he died.  It’s like losing him all over again.”

     Mark moved forward and took her in his arms.  “Dad will always be watching over you, sis.  Just lift your head up to the sky and look for the brightest star.  That’s where he’ll be.”

     Rainy gave a watery smile.  “Can we swing by the cemetery on our way home?”

     Mark grinned.  “Sure.”

     It was quiet as they made their way across town to the cemetery where Logan Montrail was buried.  Mark parked the car and they walked hand and hand to their father’s grave. 

     Rainy frowned as they got closer to where her father’s final resting place was.  There was a large box lying there beside the memorial plaque that had his name, date of birth, date of death, and Beloved Father and Coach.  Below that were the words, The Wind Beneath my Wings.

     Mark lifted the box and handed it to her with a frown on his face. 

     Rainy looked up at him questioningly, but he shook his head and then shrugged.  She opened the box and a sob broke from her. 

     Mark stepped forward taking hold of her forearms as he said, “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

     Rainy turned the box so that Mark could see the beautiful skates that were in the box.  He pulled her into a hug as he scanned the area to see who might have left the box, but there was no one in sight.