Fierce September (33 page)

I stared at her, amazement, hope, fear swirling around in my head. ‘But Vima – people will turn away. They’ll withdraw if we change things.’

She put both hands on my shoulders. ‘Get this through your thick skull, Juno. We aren’t on Taris now. We can do things differently. For goodness’ sake, don’t you start sticking to every dumb Taris rule!’

I rubbed my hands over my thick skull. ‘Sorry. Stupid rules – sometimes they’re hard to break.’

She pulled me into the apartment. ‘Practice makes it easier, believe me. So, will you dance for us?’

‘Yes.’ I gave her my promise. ‘I will dance at your wedding, and it will be a new dance. A dance to wish you and James and Wilfred joy.’

She looked at me through narrowed eyes but relaxed when she saw that I meant it. ‘Good. Now scarper – you’ve got work to do.’

Mother, I was sure, wouldn’t be happy about deviating from the accepted Taris rituals. Always we celebrated weddings with a dance, and always it was the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from the
Nutcracker
ballet. Mother had performed the dance until she was pregnant with Hera, when she handed the role on to me.

She looked up as I came in the door. ‘Well, my daughter – have you apologised to Vima?’

I nodded. ‘She wants me to dance at their wedding.’

‘I hope you said you would.’

‘Yes, of course I’m going to.’ I hesitated for a moment. ‘She wants me to make up a dance. Especially for them.’

I waited for the outburst from Mother, but it was Dad who answered. ‘That’s a great idea.’ He went to Mother and put an arm around her. ‘Sheen dearest, we are free of those old constraints. Be glad for Juno. Be happy that she can create a special dance for a special friend.’

Hera capered around the room. ‘Hera dance too.’

Mother scooped her up in a hug. ‘No, not you, Hera. Not this time.’

‘Okay,’ said Hera, and Mother almost dropped her.

‘Talk to your grandfathers,’ Dad suggested. ‘They can help you with the music.’

Mother’s face lightened. ‘That’s an excellent idea.’ She didn’t say so, but it was clear she hoped the project would help Danyat to play his flute again.

While Mother and Leebar prepared lunch, I went to Danyat’s rooms to talk to the grandfathers. It was the first time I’d been in there since he’d come home without Grif. For a moment, I couldn’t speak – just stood there feeling the emptiness, the absence of my grandmother.

Danyat led me to a chair. ‘She leaves a big gap, Juno.’

I nodded. How could we create a joyful dance from such a place of sorrow? But I told my grandfathers about Vima’s request. By the time I’d finished, Danyat was nodding his head in agreement.

‘I’d like to think,’ he said, ‘that somehow Grif will be celebrating this dance. This new dance for a new start.’

‘Shall we begin?’ Bazin said.

Danyat glanced at me, a smile in his eyes. Bazin and Leebar, dear though they were, would have no discussion about the possibility of any existence after death. But how did they know? How could they be so sure? One thing I was certain of was that this wasn’t the time to ask. We began to weave a dance.

We were startled when Hera bashed on the door and called us to eat. Mother gave Danyat a searching look as we came in. He kissed her cheek. ‘Yes, my daughter, you are quite correct – it has been good to make music again.’

Leebar ladled soup into dishes. ‘We’ve been discussing what you should wear, Juno.’

‘I haven’t thought about that.’ I clapped my hands and spun around in a pirouette. ‘I can wear something different from a tunic! Yay!’

Hera clattered her spoon against the plate. ‘Ask Fergus! We going to ask Fergus.’

An excellent idea, as it turned out. Fergus had a friend who had a daughter who used to dance.

The following morning he bounded up the stairs to our apartment. ‘Will this do?’ He handed me a small pile of folded clothes –a proper dance costume, one with a long floaty skirt, shoestring straps and fitting bodice. I rushed into the bedroom to change, Hera and Mother in my wake. ‘It fits perfectly!’ Mother wiped her eyes. ‘You look – you look like a real dancer.’

I danced out to show Fergus, swept him a deep curtsey and said, ‘Thank you so much. This is the most gorgeous dress in the world.’

He laughed and handed me a bag. ‘See if the shoes fit too.’

They were ballet slippers, not toe shoes, and they did fit. Now all I had to do was make up a dance worthy of the dress, the shoes and Vima.

Fergus was out the door before I remembered to ask about Willem. How different this world was from Taris where we would have passed on news of Willem’s condition to each other every hour of the day. I’d got so caught up in my own life I’d forgotten about him. I ran out and called to Fergus just as the lift arrived.

‘Fergus! Is there news of Willem? Is he well?’

He put a hand out to stop the lift doors closing. ‘I spoke to him this morning. He says he’s back to normal again.’

‘But he didn’t sound like it?’

Fergus shook his head. ‘No. He sounded … older, less robust.’ He gave me a quick smile. ‘But he says he’s deeply relieved not to be suffering a brainwashing.’

‘Will you tell him …’ I stopped. What I wanted to tell him was all tangled up. ‘Please, just give him our love.’

He stepped into the lift. ‘I’ll do that. Don’t worry about him. He’s tough.’

But he was old too, the same age as Grif who had died.

It was a relief to have the dance to occupy my mind, and I worked on it every spare moment. The grandfathers worked hard too, composing the music and practising it. Several times I woke in the night to hear the sound of the flute coming from Danyat’s apartment. I think it was his beginning to play again that did the most to reconcile Mother to the idea of my making up my own dance. I was glad of it, for I needed her help when I got stuck or wasn’t sure if a combination of steps worked. I still didn’t tell Mother about Her Highness saying my technique was appalling. There was nothing I could do to fix it now – all I could do was make the dance as full of love and light as I could. Sometimes we went up to the roof to practise. There was more room and I didn’t keep tripping over Hera as she danced too.

We saw little of Vima. She spent her days with James, organising their new home with the help of all her stratum, except Oban, who had chosen to stay in New Plymouth. The garden, they said, was overgrown and wild, but they looked happy with their work. ‘What’s the house like?’ we asked. ‘Tell us about this Outside house.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Creen reported, her face dreamy. ‘It’s on a ridge. In Brooklyn. It looks out over the mountains and the sea. There are birds in the trees. Tui, James calls them.’

‘And you should see what’s inside! The floors are carpeted, and there’s technology for everything. Press a button and you get music,’ Kalta told us. ‘Press another one and the stove turns on, or the temperature in the house changes.’

All through the week, Vima looked calm. I wanted her to look happy, dreamy, in love – but accepted that calm had to be better than the haunted look she’d worn for so long on Taris.

Except for Vima and Oban, we were all back living in the Centre. But the prospect of change seemed to swirl around us at every moment. It was as if all conversations started with
when we leave here.
It was a relief to have the wedding to look forward to.

Jov and Sina left the Centre the day before the ceremony.

‘Please tell Vima and James that we wish them well,’ Sina said when she came to say her goodbyes to our family. She hugged my mother hard. ‘I’ll miss you so much, Sheen.’

Mother could only manage to say ‘Dearest Sina’, before tears choked her voice.

Jov took his wife’s hand. ‘Goodbye and thank you,’ he said. He paused a moment, then added, ‘Please tell James and Vima that we both wish them happiness.’

‘They’re wise to go,’ Mother said after they’d closed the door behind them. ‘It’s hard for all of them.’ She sounded sad. She’d grown close to Sina – she adored Jovan too. My heart jolted as the reality of parting from those we had known all our lives hit home. I couldn’t help wondering though, how Vima felt about having to live in the same city as Jov – I knew she’d intended to be as far away from him as possible. It was a strange twist of fate that they would both now live in Wellington.

Oban, who loved Vima, wasn’t coming back for the wedding, but apart from him, Sina and Jov, everyone else would be there. We looked forward to it with mixed feelings. A wedding was a joyous occasion, an excuse for a party, but how could we rejoice wholeheartedly when Vima was taking such an extreme step? Her wedding would be the last occasion for so many of us to be together, for as soon as it was over we would begin to scatter throughout the country. My family was to leave on the early train the following morning. Silvern and others who were going south were catching the midnight ferry on the day of the wedding.

Our stratum spent as much time as we could together, but all the time I felt as though somebody was tugging on a band around my throat, closing it up. Marba looked at our glum faces and shook his head. ‘We can talk whenever we want. What’s the problem?’

Nobody tried to explain until Dreeda, exasperated, said, ‘Marba – how would you feel if you knew that tomorrow your hair was going to be shaved off forever?’

Marba opened his mouth, but we yelled, ‘Think about it!’

He shrugged. ‘It’s only hair.’

‘All right then,’ Silvern snapped. ‘Try this for size: somebody’s going to come and chop your right hand off. How does that grab you?’

But he couldn’t imagine it. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

We gave up. I looked at Silvern, wondering if that was the way she felt about leaving Paz. I lingered behind to walk with her when we broke up the meeting. ‘You could get married. You’re both sixteen.’

She shook her head. ‘Don’t think we haven’t talked about it. But we’re too young. Haven’t seen enough of anything yet.’

I touched her hand. ‘Life. Doesn’t seem any easier Outside.’

She pushed my hand away. ‘It’s only a year. We’ll do our compulsory service together.’

It would be longer than a year – there was the rest of this year too. ‘I’ll miss you.’ I blurted the words out.

She turned on me. ‘Don’t talk about it. All right? Just keep your mouth shut. We can’t change anything, so don’t go on about it.’ She clattered off down the stairs away from me.

I watched her go.

Love – was it worth it?  

W
E GOT SUCH A WELCOME surprise in the morning – Willem walked into the Centre. The word spread through the building and within minutes he was in the middle of an excited crowd. ‘Are you all right?’ Silvern demanded. ‘You look skinnier.’

He laughed at her. ‘I’m so much better than I would have been.’ He picked up Hera. ‘I wanted to thank you. You saved more than my life.’

‘Sounds like we’re pretty even then,’ Paz said. ‘We’d all be dead now if it wasn’t for you.’

I said nothing. I had an uncanny feeling that Willem was here to do more than just thank us, more than say goodbye as we scattered after the wedding.

He caught my eye. ‘Juno, would you be good enough to ask your parents if they can spare me a moment in about an hour?’

I felt hollow. ‘All right.’ I looked over to where Dad was standing holding a green branch.

He bowed his head to Willem. ‘Of course. Anything you ask.’

That sounded ominous. Anything he asked? What if he asked something we – I – didn’t want to do?

Bazin took my arm. ‘We’ll all be pleased to meet with you,’ he told Willem. ‘But now, dear granddaughter, we have a dance to practise.’

He, Danyat and I went up to the roof for a final practice. After the first run-through they put their flutes down and considered me.

‘What?’

‘Your mind is on what Willem wants to tell us. Keep concentrating on the dance,’ Bazin ordered.

Danyat picked up his flute. ‘Let’s try again and we won’t think about the future.’

But it took three more tries before they were satisfied. As we made our way back down the stairs, I asked, ‘What do you think he wants? Why us? Why not Vima? Or Silvern. Or anybody?’

‘I suspect all those questions will be answered when he talks to us,’ Bazin said. ‘So don’t get yourself into a state worrying about it.’

‘Whatever he tells us,’ Danyat said, ‘you have to put it aside at the wedding. You must dance for Vima and James. Even if your heart is breaking.’

There was no reply to that.

Our apartment was full of the smells of the food Mother and Leebar had cooked for the wedding feast.

‘Has Willem said what he wants to talk to us about?’ I demanded as soon as I came in the door. I had a strong feeling that I wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was Willem wanted to talk to us about. I focused on the feeling, hoping it would vanish, but it only intensified.

Dad looked up from towelling Hera dry after her bath. ‘No, he hasn’t said anything yet, but he’ll be here soon.’ He gave me a sharp look. ‘Juno, calm down. He has our welfare at heart – as I shouldn’t need to remind you.’

I held my tongue and tried to keep my mind on the dance. Willem’s plans kept nibbling away at the edges.

When Willem arrived he seemed to acknowledge our anxiety instantly. ‘I’ll be brief,’ he said. ‘There’s a wedding to prepare for.’ Hera ran to him. He picked her up and set her on his knee. ‘My friends, I won’t beat about the bush. I’d like you to reconsider going to Otaki.’