A few years later . . .
Tamisin swiped her tongue over her teeth as she lowered the rear-view mirror. She hated visiting the dentist’s office, but she had to admit that her teeth felt and looked a lot cleaner. Turning away from the mirror, she glanced out the window of her mother’s minivan while she thought about her upcoming audition. Normally she would have used an afternoon dentist appointment as an excuse to skip school for the rest of the day, but the auditions for the school dance group were scheduled to start right after the last lesson and she definitely did not want to miss them. The group was hard to get into and . . .
Her mother slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing a large animal that had darted across the street and into the hedge on the other side. “Did you see that?” Janice Warner asked, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. “That dog came out of nowhere. I don’t understand people who let their pets run loose. I could have killed it!”
Tamisin’s heart was racing as she studied the still rustling shrubs. She had seen enough of the creature before it disappeared to know that it hadn’t been a dog. True, it had been running on all fours, but its face was human, or nearly so, and it had been wearing brown trousers and a baggy shirt. As her mother stepped on the accelerator, the face reappeared framed in the leaves of the hedge and watched the car as it moved off. The slightly bulbous nose and close-set eyes looked human, although the long, flopping ears would have looked more appropriate on a cocker spaniel. Another face appeared beside it, smaller than the first, with curly white fur covering its human cheeks and chin. It too was watching the passing cars and was turning towards her when Tamisin forced herself to look away. They were the same kinds of creatures she’d seen before, only this time she knew better than to let them know it.
“A penny for your thoughts,” her mother said as they waited at a stop light. “You’re being awfully quiet. If you’re worried about your audition, you shouldn’t be. I’m sure you’ll do just great. You’re a wonderful dancer.”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” said Tamisin. “I’m not worried.”
At least not about the audition, she thought. A few years before, the creatures had chased her down this very same street. She hadn’t seen them since then. If they were back, why now and why had they been gone for so long? All the fear of that long-ago night had come back, leaving her unable to think about anything else.
At the dance audition, as she stood in line waiting for her turn, she hardly noticed the girls around her chattering about the butterflies in their stomachs and how much they wanted to get in the group. Tamisin took deep, even breaths, hoping to slow the racing of her heart. Her nervousness had nothing to do with dancing and everything to do with what she might see once she walked out the school door. Why were they back now?
At least Heather was with her, more to support Tamisin than because she really wanted to dance. The audition wasn’t very long; each girl would get only a few minutes to show what she could do. Even so, the line seemed to be taking forever to move. Then it was Tamisin’s turn to go into the room and stand in front of Miss Rigby and the senior members of the dance group. Once the music she had selected began to play, Tamisin forgot all about the creatures and what she would do if she saw them again, letting her desire to dance take over.
Although Tamisin had never taken any formal lessons, she had always enjoyed dancing. Years earlier her family had gone camping in a state park not far from their home. She had been asleep in the tent with her parents and brothers when she woke to the sound of music. Whatever was creating it didn’t sound like anything she had heard before, but it was enough to make her wriggle out of her sleeping bag and crawl out of the tent.
The music drew her to the lake, where the silvered reflection of the moon rippled on the surface. Shivering in the crisp night air of autumn, she stood at the edge of the lake with the cold water lapping at her bare toes. The music was soft and sweet with a hypnotic quality that made her take one tentative step, then another. Before she knew it she was dancing, her feet keeping time to the melody, her arms swaying, reaching to the perfect circle of the moon overhead. She twirled, so light on her feet that she felt as if she were floating, the music carrying her in ever more intricate steps.
And then they came, a few at first, bright sparks that darted around her in an imitation of her dance. Anyone else might have thought they were fireflies, but she saw their tiny faces, dresses the colours of flowers, wings so bright that they hurt her eyes, and arms that gestured just as hers were doing.
The music grew louder, carrying Tamisin with it, filling her ears and her mind and leaving no room for questions. She danced with the moonlight shining on her face as the little creatures gathered around her, dancing as she danced, moving as she moved. Some broke away long enough to brush her cheeks with their feather-light wings and touch her nightgown as if she, and not they, were something special and worthy of awe. Entranced, Tamisin would have danced all night if a beam of light hadn’t swept across the campsite to centre on her. As the light touched her face, the music faded and the sparks of light fled into the night, leaving Tamisin alone and shivering.
“There she is,” announced her big brother, Kyle. “Dad, Tam is being weird.”
“That’s enough of that, Kyle,” said her father, who had come looking for Tamisin. “Sweetie, what are you doing?”
“I was dancing with the fairies, Daddy,” Tamisin replied.
“Girls!” said Kyle as he turned and headed back to the tent.
A month later, Tamisin was home in bed when the same feeling came over her again; once again she was unable to resist. Slipping out from under her covers, she padded barefoot out of her room and down the carpeted stairs. A turn of the dead bolt and the back door was open. The moonlight touched her face and the feeling became so powerful that her body swayed as if in a strong wind. Raising her arms over her head, Tamisin danced just as she had the last time there had been a full moon. She knew the twinkling lights were coming even before they appeared.
It happened again the next full moon and the one after that. It wasn’t until two months later that Tamisin’s parents learned that she was dancing in the moonlight in their very own back garden. They agreed that she must be sleep walking and put her back to bed. When they talked to her about it the next day, they seemed more concerned about the swarm of twinkling lights they’d found surrounding her than they were about her actual dancing. Within a week they had had a security alarm installed so they’d know if she opened the door after dark. Now they knew when she went outside, but that didn’t stop her from going. When she continued to dance every month on the full moon, they installed new locks that she couldn’t open. She danced inside that first night, twirling in the kitchen and through the living room, bumping into a coffee table, knocking over a floor lamp, and acquiring a set of bruises. Her parents finished off the room in the basement, creating a safe place for her to dance. They still didn’t understand why she had to dance when she did, but they seemed pleased that at least the strange lights could no longer reach her.
Tamisin soon began to dance whenever she could – after school, on weekends and at night. She danced because she was able to lose herself in the music, almost as if she were entering another world. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself there, but she didn’t dare close her eyes for the audition.
Trying out for the school dance group was the first time she’d ever danced in front of someone who wasn’t a friend or relative. Most of the girls trying out were older than Tamisin. Juniors and seniors seemed to think of it as their organisation, although there wasn’t any rule about it. Four seniors already in the group were seated on a row of chairs at the side of the stage beside Miss Rigby when Tamisin walked through the door. All four looked bored, as if they were already certain that she was about to waste their time. Although she hadn’t been nervous before she walked on stage, her hands began to shake and her stomach felt odd. It helped that Miss Rigby gave Tamisin an encouraging smile when she told them her name and handed them her CD.
The music was simple, but it was one of Tamisin’s favourite pieces and she danced to it often. She didn’t dance the way she did under a full moon, but some of the steps were the same, and her movements were fluid and graceful, even though she felt odd performing in front of people she didn’t really know.
When the music stopped and she saw how the seniors beamed at her, Tamisin could feel the heat of a fierce blush creep up her neck and turn her cheeks pink. Smiling until her face hurt, Tamisin nodded at the judges and left the stage. She’d kept telling herself that she didn’t really care if she got into the group; she danced for herself, not for others, and could do it in the basement as easily as anywhere else, but of course she really wanted to get in.
She was waiting for Heather to finish her audition when Tamisin’s least-favourite classmates, Kendra and Tiffany, walked by.
“Have you seen the new boy?” asked Kendra. “He is so hot!”
“His name is Jak,” said Tiffany. “I saw it on his notebook when he was at his locker. He spells it J-A-K.”
“Where is he from?” Kendra asked, ignoring Tamisin, who had to step aside to get out of her way.
“I don’t know, but I hear he has loads of money.”
Heather came out of the door to the school hall. “Well, so much for that.”
“How did it go?” Tamisin asked.
Heather sighed and ran her fingers through her short brown hair. “As well as could be expected, considering. I was so nervous that I bumped into the door on the way in. Those girls laughed at me before I’d even started and then I couldn’t get my feet to match the music. I know I blew it, but that’s OK. I’m thinking of trying out for girls’ basketball and a lot of the practices would be at the same time.”
“But you’re shorter than I am,” Tamisin said, laughing. “Do you think the basketball coach would take you?”
Heather shrugged. “I’m small, but I’m fast. My father says I have a mean hook shot. It’s going to be interesting to see who gets in the dance group though. They take only the very best, and that, Tamisin, is you!”
The next morning Tamisin pretended that she wasn’t interested in the results, but Heather insisted that they find out right away. While Tamisin waited by the drinking fountain, Heather joined the group of girls examining the list next to the office door. Voices rose and fell as girls pushed their way to the front, then retreated, a few of them smiling, but most looking disappointed.
“Did you make it?” asked Tamisin when Heather came back a few minutes later.
“Of course not,” said Heather. “But you did! You’re the first name on the list!”
“You’re kidding me!”
“I told you that you would. We should do something to celebrate.”
The bell rang in the hall; they had five minutes to get to the first lesson and their classrooms were at the other end of the building.
“Race you there!” said Tamisin.
Laughing, the two girls clutched their backpacks to their chests and dashed down the hall. A computer science teacher stuck his head out of his doorway and called after them, “No running, girls!”
“We’re not,” Tamisin called back. “We’re celebrating!”
At the next hallway, Heather waved goodbye as Tamisin turned the corner. Tamisin was still waving to her friend when she ran full tilt into a boy standing in front of his locker. They fell to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs as her backpack skidded down the polished linoleum and his books went flying. In an instant he was back on his feet, so nimbly that Tamisin wondered if he was a dancer.
“Sorry,” she said as she scrambled to stand up. “I’m not usually this clumsy.”
“Neither am I,” said the boy, handing her the backpack. “I’m Jak, and you are . . .”
“Tamisin,” she said.
Jak was about her height and had thick, dark hair and the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen. The rest of his features weren’t anything extraordinary – his nose was straight, his chin square, his lips full – but as a whole he was surprisingly handsome.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she stood there, speechless.
“Sure, uh . . . yes. But I should be asking you that. I ran into you, remember?”
Jak shrugged. “I was in your way.”
The bell rang again, signalling the start of classes. “Damn!” said Tamisin. “I’m late!”
“I guess that means I am, too. I’m not used to the bell system yet. I just started yesterday.”
“Go to class, unless you want to get into trouble,” she said over her shoulder as she hurried down the hall. Reaching the door to her classroom, she glanced back. Jak was still standing where she’d left him, staring after her.