Beginners to the stage! ... And cue the Lights.
The stage manager's voice rang out through the auditorium, calling the show rehearsal.
Oy, lampy! Get up there and adjust those troupers for me, will ya? The glare on stage is still blinding the ballerinas.
I jumped at the Gaffer's voice resounding inside my headset and scampered up the stage ladder. Rolling my eyes, I resisted the temptation to flick the switch on my belt pack to mute.
The Gaffer, a.k.a. Mr. Green from my English class, was a decent guy - a forty-something-year-old teacher who loved his job. His passion, however, lay in theatre production, more specifically lighting design. I had immense respect for him, so I answered whatever pretentious industry names he threw at me while on set. He answered only to the stage manager, Mrs. Watson, the Head of Drama. For Mr. Green, the annual dramatic performance was a highlight in the school calendar. It meant the start of a new season of artistic collaboration, and it was a chance to blood new lighting techs from his after-school Theatre Club.
This year the school production saw a break with tradition. Instead of a musical, the Drama Department was staging an abridged deconstructed version of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. It promised to be special, such was the blossoming of dance talent within its ranks.
I could have chosen any extracurricular clubs. Theatre production would not normally have been a contender. Unlike Mr. Green, the draw of the theatre was not my raison d'etre. Yet, here I was, slightly acrophobic, on a bridge suspended twenty feet above the stage, edging my way tentatively toward the offending lights, while the true object of my affection, performed a pirouette beneath me...
Cassie made the perfect Odette; feminine, graceful, and elegant. As the Swan Queen, her character was alluring and beautiful; her story, sad and tragic - no wonder Prince Siegfried was spellbound. Her appearance on centre stage was breathtaking. Her smile - beguiling - could disarm even the most hardened of boys. To the world, she exuded joy... but all I saw was an upturned band aid masquerading as a smile. I wondered if she ever had the inclination to rip it off. Perhaps, I considered, she was waiting, like me... patiently... for someone to come along and help her to peel it back more gently.
What captivated me most were her eyes. They were always searching. They swept the audience constantly. They hid behind a veil of sadness that my 8th-grade brain had not yet learned to navigate, but my heart wanted to understand. The truth is... I did not exist for her. Even if she was vaguely aware of my presence up on the gantries, she never let on. She was part of the in crowd at school... a clique I tended to avoid. But something still drew me in... She was after all...
Outta your league, mate!
Tim gave me a friendly dig in the side with his elbow as he brushed past, yanking me out of my reverie.
Jer... your little infatuation is gonna get you kicked off lighting if you don't watch out! The gaffer asked you to adjust the beams ten minutes ago and you're still standing here... watching... her.
Tim adjusted the lights and chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way back down to the stage. He was right though - I needed to watch my step if I wanted to stick around.
Which I did.
Cassie's presence on stage was commanding. With perfect poise and balance she would explode into action. Strength and grace would see her float through the air as she performed, launching from one movement into the next. When she had auditioned for Odette, nobody else had come close.
When she was not performing, she held back, seemingly aloof. Expressionless, she guarded her emotions. She did not speak much. It was almost impossible to break through the invisible walls of the fortress that she had built up around her. The only flickers of joy came when she danced.
Losing her father could not have been easy. I could relate. I had lost my mother in that same accident two years before, so I understood her pain. But Cassie's father would return one day after time served. On the other hand, I had watched my mother's casket being lowered to the ground. There was a certain finality in that.
Cassie's father had been rushing to make Opening Night after a brief stint abroad. Coming straight from the airport, a momentary lapse of concentration had occurred. He had turned left at the school crossing when he should have turned right. He drove straight into oncoming traffic. His 4x4 made short work of my mother's little two-seater. He was lucky to have survived himself.
Still, vehicular manslaughter carries a five-year sentence in our State, and he was serving two to three, with the balance suspended. I had no quarrel with him and I felt no anger toward Cassie for still having her father. It was simply a tragic accident. I had hoped that we could find solace in our shared grief but she had rebuffed all efforts to seek conciliation. She chose instead to hide within a citadel of pain - masking her vulnerability behind the last bastion of self-preservation.
For as long as I could recall, Gerald Roberts always sat in seat F17 front and centre... Never missed a performance... but he had now missed two years in a row. He was exceptionally proud of his daughter. In his absence, before and after every rehearsal and performance, Cassie would sit in seat F17 for a short while.
Watching her sitting there that afternoon, I knew I had to find a way to help us both to heal.
Mr. Green...erm gaffer... if Tim covers for me, would you mind if I missed the rehearsal this afternoon? There's something I need to do. It's kinda personal.
Mr. Green was busy - preoccupied - he simply waved me away.
If you must! But be back for tomorrow's rehearsal, I need you on top of things by Opening night!
I did not stick around or give him a chance to change his mind. But I did not leave either. Instead, I made my way down to the stalls; to seat F17 which Cassie had since vacated to take her place on stage. I sat down, lined up my phone's lens, and hit record. Ninety minutes later, a bunch of footage secured, I was gathering up my belongings when Cassie confronted me.
What are you doing here?
Oh, hi Cassie, I was just watching the rehearsal.
Aren't you supposed to be up there? On Lights?
then she motioned towards the seat...
Is this some cruel joke, Jeremy?
I looked at her wide-eyed.
Um, no of course not...
I paused, swallowing hard.
I was just... I can explain, Cassandra...
She would not let me. The veil was firmly in place. She simply scowled. It was clear she wanted to say a lot more, but she held back. I watched uneasily as her bottom lip quivered. Her toughened exterior, the fortress she had so painstakingly built, was threatening to crumble. I could see it in the narrowing of her glistening eyes.
I tried again to explain myself and caught the slight shake in her hand as she raised it to her face, pretending to shift some hair from her eyes. Then she brushed past me, knocking my phone from my hands and into the aisle. I watched her walk away, bent over, hugging her book bag. I was convinced that she hated me.
I left the theatre and headed out to my rendezvous with Mr. Roberts. The Prisons Board had confirmed visiting hours earlier when I called. I asked them to pass on a message that I needed to see him.
That afternoon, I made peace with the man responsible for my mother's death, and Gerald Roberts got to watch his daughter shine on the small screen... of my mobile phone.
The next day, with rehearsals in full swing, I took a moment to drop by row F on my way to lighting. I hoped that Cassie would stick to her daily routine and continue to visit seat 17.
We were shutting down the lights after another successful rehearsal when a familiar voice called out from below. I gazed down from the bridge. I could just see Cassie's shape close to the stage, peering up toward the gantry. She must have heard me shuffling about. I shifted the soft beam of the small spotlight onto her form.
She blinked, shielding her eyes.
Hello! Is anyone up there?
er, yes... I'm still here. I'm just packing up.
Is that you, Jeremy?
Her voice softened.
I hesitated.
Can we... perhaps talk?
She was tentative, her voice was inquiring.
Um...sure. Of course! Give me a moment and I'll be right down.
I fumbled with the power, shifting the beam's focus away from her, and walked down to the stage. As I made my way toward her, I noticed the open letter in her hands.
Before I had left the prison the day before, her father had hurriedly scribbled a short note and popped it into an envelope. He had sealed it before handing it to me and asked me to pass it on to Cassie. I had promised I would get it to her.
Her eyes were fixed on me as I approached. I could sense her turrets starting to crumble, the once-drawn arrows now tucked away. She rocked slowly back and forth, hugging her knees, the tear-stained letter, clenched in the palm of her hands.
Thank you for this, Jeremy. He saw me. My dad watched me dance, from seat F17. All because of what you did.
The band aid was gone. She was glowing.
You made that happen. I'm so grateful.
I returned her smile.
She patted the seat next to her.
Will you sit with me for a while?
The drawbridge was released. I slid in next to her and held out my hand, which she took slowly in her own.
I had finally made it onto her dance card. I felt a weight lift as I was handed the keys to the castle, and I was determined not to screw it up!
Resources:
This is my entry for the Ink Well Monthly Fiction Prompt: Fortress
Header image created in Midjourney AI by @dreemsteem using word prompts - used with permission.
Glossary of Technical Theatre Terms – Lighting (beginners)
Theatre Lighting; Design and Understanding
The title is taken from the song The Drifters - Save the last dance
Dreemport banner used with permission of @dreemsteem and @dreemport and designed by @jimramones
Sister, my sister...
Your writing has leveled up massively and yesssss!
I haven't read you for a while and something magical is happening.
Don't stop ❤️
Who do we have here? I have missed this one...yeesh!❤️❤️
Thank you my darling 💗I wasn't completely happy with this one yet !LOLZ and then I accidentally hit publish instead of update draft when I was still proofreading and adjusting. I made a couple of quick changes after publishing and then decided... you know what? A lesson in not overthinking and editing to death. Just let it be and breathe hehe. Thank you for the lovely support I have really been working on trying to improve my writing. I appreciate you so much !LUV !hivebits
I suspect you will never be entirely happy with anything you create ;)
Trust the flow!
Yeah - nothing worse than over editing, huh? Did it with a poem and destroyed it. And didn't keep copies of the development. I think literature just becomes "dead" with too much editing...
I adore you back. Beautiful to see you rising more and even more :D 💕
!LUV
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(1/4)
what a deliciously sweet tale.
you draw us through and reel out what we need to know at just the right time.
for me it is a little bit breathlessly paced, and I wonder if that is a function of writing for HIVE, and a later redraft will be able to put in more detail and slow things down
Hi Stuart, completely agree. I would have preferred for it to have hit around 2k-2.5k but writing for the Ink well I try to be considerate of their time so I try to keep things within acceptable parameters 🙈 I have also been focusing on tightening up my writing... but yes, sometimes we need to slow things down with longer sentences etc. I purposely deleted some detail from the story to reduce the word count. I also hit publish prematurely by mistake - intending to hit update draft !LOLZ and then I only made a couple of quick changes and left it as I didn't want to be fiddling too much with a published piece. I appreciate your kind and constructive feedback on this story... it will certainly guide my next effort. Perhaps I will not worry too much about word count if I feel it needs the extra to improve on the delivery 🙌💗 !LUV !PIMP
You must be killin' it out here!
@samsmith1971 just slapped you with 1.000 PIMP, @stuartcturnbull.
You earned 1.000 PIMP for the strong hand.
They're getting a workout and slapped 1/1 possible people today.
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(2/4)
I honestly am always beguiled by the way you express with words. Especially fiction. There is just something so...I don't know. I really wish you're a script writer. I'd be your biggest fan and watch all your movies. This is beautiful and the way you're just so creative of the use of the prompt word; Fortress is really admirable.
Dreemport!
aw thank you, my lovely Deraaa 💗I am happy you enjoyed it! I need to come read your latest offerings hehe !LUV !LADT
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Ahhh. You don't. Look at me...Also lacking in that area..lol
Yoi really need to get this talent in motion 🥺
Entertainment industries don't really know what they are missing... This is really really good.
You play with words....... Amazing
aw thank you - that's just the sweetest thing to say 🤗You made me smile !LUV !ALIVE
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Yu are really good at this for real
Oh my! This is so beautiful, how you do this is beyond me 😍😍. I was entirely glued, didn't skip a word. Jeremy choose to forgive instead of holding on to anger that would have damage him, I do hope we all can be more like Jeremy learning to forgive and make peace when we find ourselves in this kind of situations.
Came from #dreemport
aw thank you geelocks 💗Yes, it takes a certain kind of wisdom to refrain from the blame game all the time. If only more people were like that 🤗!LUV !ALIVE
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Thank you @teamuk !PIZZA
This is a wonderful tale, and I hope Jeremy and Cassie are finally healed.
You have been a wonderful writer and I always enjoy your content.
Well done
Thank you for your support. I really appreciate it and am happy you enjoy the stories !PIZZA !ALIVE
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What a touching moment ♥️ I hope Jeremy and Cassie finally heal...
!PIZZA !ALIVE !LUV
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Thank you, my friend 💞 !LUV !ALIVE !PIZZA
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Beautiful story, sensitive and human, @samsmith1971. Misfortune has touched Cassie but the beautiful humanity of the narrator has managed to detach her from the pain, while freeing himself.
Thank you for writing this story for The Ink well. We value your comments on other stories
Thank you @theinkwell
It was a great prompt to be able to write to! I enjoyed pulling this story together 🤗
!ALIVE !LUV
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That's an expertly told tale. There are a few heart-wrenching moments, but through it all, love and affection persevere.
Magnificent imagery. Well done!
Thank you! I enjoyed the monthly prompt: fortress ... it offered a lot in the way of imagery, and I can't resist playing with words hehe !LUV
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What a nice write and interesting story. Wonders never end.
And thanks for submitting this awesome piece.
With love ❤️
Pirate Q from dreemport
Thank you for your kind comment, Pirate Q 🤗 I appreciate you stopping by !PIZZA
Whew! It was a success!! I love happy endings. Good thing you did it here. Then Cassie and Jeremy live happily ever after. Lol.
Got this post from @dreemport.
hahaha... well maybe happily ever after. hehe did I write that cliche in? !LOLZ
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It's riveting
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(3/4)
Happy ending this story is really amazing 🤩 Thumps up 👍
Reading from @dreemport
It must have taken Jeremy a lot of courage to reconcile with Cassie's Dad. Nice story... it is wonderful that they all put down the fortress in their heart
Thank you for dropping by to read my story Tomi! !PIZZA
You're welcome 😊 sir
I cannot believe I only just managed to read this story, @samsmith1971. (This happens, since we have multiple curators.)
It is spectacular! It really touched my heart. You are such a gifted writer.
Congrats on winning the monthly fiction writing contest in The Ink Well! https://peakd.com/hive-170798/@theinkwell/february-2023-news-updates-and-new-contest-from-the-ink-well
Thank you so much, Jayna. I'm glad you enjoyed it 🤗I am constantly working to improve my writing so this encouragement means the world to me. I know there were some bits where the pacing could have been better and a few superfluous words could have been dropped to improve the flow. Next time I'll make sure I don't hit publish when I intend to hit 'update draft' hehe. !LOLZ Writing in the Ink Well under the guidance of the curators and fellow writers is so helpful to the journey. I'll be back this week writing again. Just spent 2 weeks with Dreemsteem and Penderis in the UK so I took a break from writing to enjoy my time with them both.
!LUV
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(2/4)
Of course, I'm the true crime guy who wants to know more about this murder that took place. How did this kid come to make peace with him, the murderer? Wow.
I know this is a month old now, but WOW Sam! You wove each layer together here, just so, until we understand this terrible fortress that has been built... Not just in cassie's mind, where she is trying her best to keep going... but also around both characters ability to heal from the situation. As you let the walls down, we are forced to exhale. A great pressure is relieved with a touching flourish at the end. Wonderfully done! !LUV !PIZZA !PIMP !LOLZ
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