Stage

by marksluce

The Knox Bowler looks crisp from the back, so does the golden vest, and Janitor John plunks his way through Carmichael’s “Rockin’ Chair” as the parents take their seats.

Mrs. Lindquist, behind the curtain at stage right, nods John’s way, and he wraps up the song with a flourish. Unlike the rehearsal, John spins on his seat and rises to the crowd, nudging their applause with a slow lifting of his arms. Mrs. Lindquist turns to Vera Storer and reminds her to smile.

John plays the opening bars of “Dance of the Blessed Spirits,” as Vera, a timid eight-year-old in white and lace, steps and toes in time. She concentrates on remembering the funny-named steps. The stage feels different, warmer, with an audience; only Vera can’t see past the glaring lights at the base of the stage. She remembers to smile.

Afterwards, Janitor John shakes her hand and Mrs. Lindquist gives her a hug. Her mother, Lillian, now backstage, tugs at the hem of Vera’s dress and says that it looks too crooked. Vera continues to look out at the stage lights, losing herself in their whiteness.

Vera shakes back to now. The lamp beside her recliner heats her face. It’s Tuesday, she thinks, and she’s no longer eight.  She remembers that her daughter will be here soon to clean the apartment that now passes for home.