The Midnight Dancers: A Fairy Tale Retold (5 page)

Once outside, she clicked off the light and let herself be bathed in the glow of the full moon, the ground around her blotched with the shadows of the trees. It was an entirely different sensation from being bathed in sunlight.

She tossed her hair—she had coal and cobalt hair in the moonlight—back over her shoulders and looked at her sisters.  A few of them were looking around uncertainly.  Cheryl was explaining the possible origins of the secret stair to the younger ones. 

“What are we going to do?” Liddy asked, her voice uncertain.

Rachel raised one eyebrow. “Whatever we like.”

“But what if Dad and Sallie find out?” Liddy pressed, her blue eyes shadowed with concern.

“They won’t find out,” Rachel said, putting the flashlight into a hollow by the door where she could easily find it on the way home. Over her shoulder, she cast a look around the circle. “So long as no one tells them.”

She meant that Dad would never find out, that none of the sisters would dream of breathing a word to him or Sallie. But she couldn’t impress that on them now. She had to show them how to explore the possibilities first.

“Come on,” she invited. “Let’s go swimming!”

She plunged along the path through the woods to the bay, and with muffled squeals and protests, her sisters followed. After about a quarter mile they came out of the woods to a short slope leading to the beach.

“But we don’t have our swimsuits!” Debbie pointed out, scrambling down beside Rachel breathlessly.

Rachel shrugged at her youngest sister. “Next time, we’ll wear our swimsuits to bed. So long as we can get them quietly without Dad and Sallie finding out.” She sat down on the pebble beach overhung with a willow tree, and said, “Tomorrow I’ll put our swimsuits in the dryer during dinner and bring them upstairs with the laundry. Now, remember, try not to make too much noise.”

She stripped down to her underwear and splashed into the water. A few yards out she dove into the plum black water and swam. The colors of the water were so different now, beneath the moon—she plunged upward and out of the water, into the night. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the rest leaping into the bay, and heard their laughter echoing across the waves. 

The water was warm, still heated by the long summer day, and she swam slowly, meditatively, feeling herself wrapped in its black beauty. Her hair hung down her back like a heavy seal-fur curtain, sleek as otter skin. She was beautiful in the night, and she knew it.

After a while, she swam to the rock near the shore and climbed lightly atop it to watch the rest. While they frolicked, she planned.  Dad must never know about the door. They needed a strategy, a system, and most of all, a combined group secret.  It was fortunate that Cheryl had been present for the discovery of the door, and that Tammy had discovered it. That made this a Fendelman effort as surely as a Durham effort. Both sets of girls had equal stake in the discovery.  If she could present it to them in the right way, she could bring all of them to an understanding that this secret was too valuable to lose. And they would be unified.

And from there … Rachel stretched. The horizons were limitless.  They could do almost anything they pleased, here in the night.  She looked up and down the Bay Shore, from one side to the other, and her eyes fell on the island.

It stood in the middle of their corner of the bay, dark spiky firs and green velvet lawns. In the embrace of the firs stood a fine house, nestled in its evergreens like a movie star wrapped in a mink coat.   It was the summerhouse of a rich family, rarely used. Caretakers came and went occasionally by boat during the day, but it seemed to be deserted most of the time.

Deserted or no, there was enough wood and valley on the island’s ample shore to hide a dozen girls.  If only they had a boat. But their father didn’t see a need for a boat, aside from an old canoe the girls used occasionally. And there was no way all twelve of them could fit into the canoe.

The rumble of a motor made her turn her head, and she saw, across the bay, a speedboat slicking through the wavelets like a silver knife cutting through butter, scattering glittering wakes as it passed, generously heaping up the waves. Rachel smiled. That was how it would have to be done. Other people—men—had boats. She would have to be brave, and cunning, and careful, but it could be done.

“I
will
get to that island before the summer is over,” she promised herself.  She slid off the rock and threw herself back into the purple waves and stroked back to the shore.

“Ready?” she said, all business once more. “Time to go back. Get your things together—be careful not to leave anything. If we’re going to keep this secret, we have to be careful. Prisca, get your other sock. Taren, is that yours?  Right. All together? Then back up to the cave.”

Once they were at the door of the cave, Rachel surveyed the near-dozen wet and breathless faces.

“Okay,” Rachel said. “This is our secret. We tell nobody. Not our best friends, not Mom, not Dad, nobody. This is just for us sisters. But we never talk about it during the day. We never use it during the day, not for nipping out of chores, or anything. It doesn’t exist during the day. The only time we use it is when we all go down together, at night. After everyone else is asleep.  We keep it a dead secret.  We don’t volunteer that it exists, and if anyone asks us, we don’t admit to knowing anything. All agreed?”

Rachel looked at each of the Fendelman girls in turn. “Cheryl? Tammy? Taren? Brittany? Melanie? Linette?” They were with her. Then she looked at her biological sisters. “Miriam? Prisca? Becca? Liddy? Debbie? Anyone object? Anyone too scared?”

“I won’t be scared,” Liddy said, “not if we stick together.”

Rachel nodded. “That’s the whole point,” she said. “We sisters have got to stick together on this.  It’s what we can do together, without anyone else supervising us or giving us rules. Right?”

All the girls—Fendelman and Durham—nodded.

“Good,” Rachel breathed. She had succeeded.  They were all in on this as one. “Now back upstairs. I’ll keep this flashlight under my bed.  Remember, keep quiet. When we get upstairs, no whispering, no talking. Just straight to sleep. Miriam, go last and latch the bottom door behind us.”

She led the way back up the stairs, and opened the top door quietly.  She tiptoed inside and held the door open for each sister. Miriam came up last, nodding that everything was okay.  Rachel shut the door quietly, pushed the flashlight under the bed, and lay down.

They had pulled it off.

three

Paul reached the campgrounds after a long but carefree walk from the bus station. He paid the fee, and started to get settled in on his vacation. He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, just relishing the sweet taste of freedom.  His doctor had declared him fully recovered from his war injury. Medical school didn’t begin till the fall. So his tour was done, school was yet to start, and within this brief window, he could do as he pleased.

Trimming expenses to the absolute minimum meant that he had decided to go without a car for the summer. He had packed everything he needed into his backpack and the large colorful bag that held his juggling gear.

He took a bit of time to pick a campsite, and finally chose one within reach of the Bay, but sheltered from the constant breezes that swept over the waters.  Clearing the ground and pitching his tent were done in the same leisurely fashion.  When everything was arranged, he settled down on a fallen log and just sat for a while, feeling no inclination to move or do anything but be still.

This was his holiday, his treat before starting medical school, and he rejoiced within its limits. He planned to spend the next several weeks camping, hiking, and doing some stints as a street musician and juggler at the Maryland Colonial Festival. Entertaining would pay for the campsite and some food for the next few weeks. If not, he could always ask his parents or one of his seven siblings for money to see him through, but he hoped he wouldn’t need to fall back on that.

He started to whistle and picked up a stick, tossing it gently from hand to hand, planning a new tune for his flute.  While he had to make time to practice his juggling routine for the festival, which started next week, for now, he could relax.  He decided to start with a walk on the beach, maybe go for a swim.

So after tidying up his campsite, he walked down to the beach that bordered the campgrounds.  The bay curved around him, and he looked with satisfaction at the green shore stretching out into the distance on either side of him. A few miles down the beach to the left were houses, but to his right the trees came right down to the water, and the land jutted out into a promontory on the bay. There was a house up there: he could see its chimneys through the trees. They must have a beautiful view of the surrounding bay.

He started down the beach to the left, enjoying the brisk breezes.  After a while he broke into a jog.

The beach ahead was mostly deserted, but as he jogged on, he saw an older man walking in his direction wearing khakis and a windbreaker.  As Paul drew near, the man paused and looked out at the bay. There was something familiar about him. When Paul was close enough, he thought he recognized him.

“Excuse me—Colonel Durham?”

The colonel turned, and his troubled expression was replaced with surprise. “That’s right.” He brightened up. “Corporal—what was your name? Jester?”

“Fester,” Paul said with a grin.

“That’s right,” the man said, shaking Paul’s hand warmly. “How’s your leg doing?”

“Doing really well,” Paul said. “How about your arm?”

The colonel lifted his arm. “It’s OK. My back’s a little stiff, but that would happen just by getting old,” he said. “It almost doesn’t count. But I’m working a desk job now. No more work overseas. My wife is grateful. So what are you doing now?”

“For the next few weeks, I’ll be at the Colonial Festival.”

The colonel snapped his fingers. “That’s right. Fester, jester. You juggle. I remember now.  So what are you doing after that? You thinking of staying in the army?”

“Well, at least to get through medical school,” Paul said. “I start in the fall. It’s the only way I could afford to go.”

“Take my advice: don’t stay in if you get married.”

“Why do you say that, sir?”

The colonel looked out at the bay. “Too hard on the family. I’ve been in the army since I was nineteen. I’ve been on tour a lot. It’s always tough for the family, but you know, we worked through it. Even after I got married again, everything seemed okay. But coming back this time, it’s been different. It’s like I don’t know my kids and they don’t know me. I’m wondering if I paid too high a price.”

After a moment, Paul said, “My dad was military too. He was a captain, in the Marines. We moved around a lot, until he retired a few years ago in Chicago. I don’t know what he did differently, but you know, it was okay with us kids. I’m really proud of him.”

He noticed the colonel was studying him. “Did you get along with your parents when you were a teenager?”

“Me? I did, I guess. I mean, we had a pretty open relationship.”

“You’d tell them what was going on in your life?”

“Sure. Well, sometimes I wanted my own space, but yeah, I’d talk to them a lot.”

“It’s a mystery to me how that happens,” Colonel Durham said. “I can’t get my girls to talk to me at all. And they’ve been very—secretive lately.”

“Maybe they’re just getting to know you again,” Paul ventured. “It takes time.”

The colonel shook his head. “There’s something going on with them,” he said positively. “I can tell they’re hiding something. The odd thing is that it’s all of them: from the oldest right down to the youngest ones.”

“Have you asked them about it?”

“Sure. Flat denial, all down the line. Sallie’s asked them about it. Nothing. We finally just let it go, but I can’t get the idea out of my head that they’re up to something. I’ve been trying other tactics, but I’m up against a wall.” He sighed heavily. “I have no idea what else I can do.”

“Maybe it’ll come out, in time,” Paul said. “Maybe they’ll tell you.”

Again, Colonel Durham shook his head. “You don’t know my daughters,” he said positively. He seemed to change the subject. “Would you like to come to dinner, now that you’re in town?”

“That would be great.”

“How about tonight?”

Paul was taken aback. “Sure. If it’s no trouble.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Colonel Durham said. “Besides, I’d like you to meet my girls. I’m sure you’ll have a lot in common.” He pointed up the beach in the direction from which Paul had come. “Our house is right up there. But you can reach it by the road as well. Will 5:30 work for you?”

 “I’m free,” Paul said, grinning.  It was good to be on vacation.