Studio of Dreams

Studio of Dreams Part II

by josie

--------- Synopsis:

Wilhelmina Mann, aka Willie, has fallen victim to her exaggerated bravado and calamitous arrogance. It is a near fatal flaw in her character that leads to her complete undoing. Now, her life in ruin, Wilhelmina begins looking for a way to resurrect her life from the smoldering ashes of the old. In so doing she opens up to the possibility that fate may yet have a hand to play in her redemption.

Chapter V Rebirth

Wilhelmina thought the old ballet mistress looked rather tired and worn by all the years of teaching. She walked with a cane and wore a sweeping, floor-length, Empress-style gown of black velvet. Her silver-gray hair was piled high in a bun, and she wore layers of foundation shades to light, and rouge far too bright to cover the signs of her age. There was also a defensive air about her as she approached, and Whilhelmina thought her a bit ill-tempered in the way she asked what she was going there.

"I've come to see Madam Leonora about the job opening," Wilhelmina said.

Not wishing to bother with whomever was beneath the pompadour and black leathers, the old ballet mistress dismissed her with a sweeping gesture of her hand.

"You're speaking to her! And that Help Wanted sign is for a qualified Ballet Instructor, not a janitor!"

Wilhelmina's first instinct was to lash out at her, not unlike what she did to Lacy Richardson just hours before. She felt her fists clench and her jaw tighten, like a cat prepared to pounce - but she didn't. Instead she stifled the surge of anger that had again welled up from within and regained control of herself. Once free from the tyranny of her rage it suddenly became clear how she had come to lash out at poor, defenseless Lacy.

Still she didn't understand the anger, nor why it was becoming increasingly difficult to control. She felt powerless not knowing what was happening to her and worse, fearful she might never figure it out. All she had to stave off a foreboding sense of hopelessness was her slim hope that fate had brought her to this moment for a reason. She had nothing more to go on, so she decided to throw herself into the foreordained in hopes of finding her answers. Perhaps in this tattered old studio she'd find some way to expel the demonic rage, and find the redemption she sought.

Besides, there remained Simon; dressed in leotard and pink ribboned blocks, doing his exercises at the barre. What was she to think of that boy ballerina who appeared at her moment of need, he alone responsible for leading her here? What part was he to play in all this, and why was it that while the lady and she spoke Wilhelmina could not take her eyes from him?

So Wilhelmina smiled warmly at the old ballet mistress instead of lashing out. With all the civility she could muster, she politely told Madam Leonora about herself, her mother and all that both had accomplished in ballet.

The lady knew the last name, of course. She had seen Katherine Mann dance at the Metropolitan, and had even read a newspaper article or two about Wilhelmina. There was also a nationally televised broadcast of The Nutcracker she remembered seeing some years back that featured a much heralded, thirteen year old Wilhelmina as the lead. Yes, she was well aware of Wilhelmina's illustrious past and was pleased to be in her company, dressed as a boy, or not!

"Why, I'm so dreadfully sorry! I did not recognize you in your costume, dear."

"We've met?" she asked.

"No dear, but I had the pleasure of watching a performance of yours some years back. You've grown some, certainly, but I've a mind for such things. I am to assume you're currently dressed in preparation for some . . . performance?"

"Ahhhh, yes! Yes I am," Wilhelmina hesitantly responded. "It's small repertory group's take on West Side Story - a playhouse off Broadway. I'll be dancing the role of Tony," she added, uncomfortable about the lie she had just told. Wilhelmina looked away to avoid the lady's gaze, praying she wouldn't have to delve deeper into her lies and deceit.

"I see. You live in the area then?"

"Yes, ma'am! I live at the new Regency Towers on 89th and 3rd Ave - my mother and I, that is. I was hoping to find a small studio, where I can be of help. Perhaps as a service, I can give back to the kids in the community. Have you something available along those lines?"

Wilhelmina didn't want to lie. She did have her pride and thought it the lowest order of things to have to resort to lying. Then too, she believed she had no choice in the matter. Surely if she told the truth about Lacy Richardson, the lady would have branded her a danger to her students and tossed her out without entertaining a second thought. If she wanted to stay, she knew she would have to fabricate a story and preserve it at all costs - even with her lies.

Of course, Leonora was skeptical of what Wilhelmina had said. She knew Wilhelmina's claim to fame was genuine enough but, regarding her present circumstance, there were too many clues in her nervous posture and strain in her voice to not believe the story made up on the spot. Besides, what was she to think of the pompadour, callow mustache and the red eyes still damp from the tears?

For Leonora, the conclusion was inescapable. Wilhelmina was a girl scarcely in control of herself. Exactly what she was trying to keep hidden, she didn't know. The only thing certain was the truth about her celebrated past and the certainty of a very snarled present. It was an interesting, if not intriguing brew that piqued her interest to play along - so she did. She smiled warmly in an offer of full acceptance of all she heard.

"Heavens, yes! In truth, after 40 years in the business I would have no choice but to end classes altogether at the end of the month if I don't find somebody. You see I've a very serious problem with my hip that requires an operation and may require months of recuperation."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Your illness would force you into retirement then?"

"From the dance studio, yes! But I'll not be retiring from my script editing business that pays the bills. Honestly, demands for my 'Danceline Agency' are such that I could never completely retire from the industry. Though it saddens me to think about closing down this old place. It would be a great loss to the community and a disappointment to the girls. As you can see, I am very much in need of someone's help."

"I've heard of 'DanceLine', Madam. Your agency is highly regarded."

"Indeed! Given enough time, everyone garners some respect, warranted or not! Even so, I've only student fees to cover the cost of keeping the studio doors open. Naturally, the studio couldn't afford the cost of your talent. . . I've a small list of clientele, you understand!"

"Madam, I'd be honored to do it just as a service if you'd allow me!"

Leonora didn't believe for a moment the claim of her "Good Samaritan" purposes, and the fact that she needed to lie as cover for something unseemly troubled her. The unanswered questions weighted as heavily upon her as the intrigue of Wilhelmina's untold story. Leonora didn't know what was going on, but she knew she couldn't allow her questions to go unanswered no matter how troubling they might turn out to be.

Besides, she simply felt too amused by the possibilities to not follow along.

"Oh my, yes! How could I refuse? It's not everyday so prominent a dancer as yourself offers to donate her time. Certainly, I would be delighted. . . and please, dear. Called me Leonora!"

"Thank you, Leonora. I'm grateful for your trust in me."

Wilhelmina's delight was obvious. Just as apparent to Leonora was the fact that she couldn't stop starring off in the distance at Simon. The thought that this girl, dressed as a boy, wanted to help a boy dressed as a girl gave her reason to pause. After some moments reflection on the peculiar complexities of it all, Leonora returned Wilhelmina's smile. Then taking hold of hers arm, she walked with her toward her little corps de ballet.

"Then I must welcome you to my Studio of Dreams, Wilhelmina Mann!. Come! I think you might find this a pleasant new beginning for you, my dear!"

"Filles! . . . et jeune monsieur! Attention! Attention! This is Miss Wilhelmina Mann. For those who do not know the name, I will tell you she is one of the young stars in the world of dance. I am very proud to announce that classes will continue, and she will be providing your instruction during the short time I am away."

Madam Leonora had scarcely gotten the words out of her mouth when Simon first looked up to see who was standing before him. Immediately his heart raced and he became consumed by panic. He became so distraught that by the time Leonora had finished the introduction he had erupted into tears, dashed from the studio and ran out onto the street. Behind him, Wilhelmina was in pursuit.

Had it all not been so dreadfully serious you might have thought the scene laughable. Many stopped to watch the peculiar event unfolding before them, though no one seemed sure how to react to the chase, the struggle, and the shouting match that followed. Nor did anyone know just how to react to the sight of the two strange players in the little drama. One would certainly have to wonder who was who. To wonder whether it was really a boy they saw in ballet leotards, pink-ribboned blocks and clean shaven leg - and if it was really a girl they saw with a grease-slick pompadour, black leather pants and biker boots. One had to wonder what where the danger lay.

"Hold on! Hold on!" Wilhelmina yelled as she finally grabbed hold of his arm.

"You can't go running off dressed like this. I know you're angry but I'm not going to hurt you!"

Simon was filled with contempt as he struggled to break free from her grasp. All he could think about was getting as far away from "Wicked Willie" as possible. The memories of her cruelty toward him were still too fresh in his mind to listen to her.

"Look, I'm sorry for picking on you at Tae Kwon Do! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It was mean and cruel of me!"

It was at this point that a stock boy from a nearby store tried to intervene, but Wilhelmina's snarling "back off, jack" kept the boy from stepping in. It also made Simon shamefully aware of his condition, and the focus of too much unwanted attention. His sudden embarrassment helped to calm him just long enough to hear Wilhelmina's apologies.

"Why do you want to be nice to me now?" he asked apprehensively after summoning enough courage.

"Because . . . just because! That's why!"

Hearing the change in tenor of the dispute, the crowd slowly dissipated, leaving Wilhelmina in charge of her catch. With an air of command, she released her grasp of his arm and looked down into his eyes, searching for a way to convey her sincerity.

"You're really a famous dancer?" Simon braved, between sniffles.

"Yes!"

He lowered his eyes and dried his tears in offer of his resignation. Wilhelmina, the cunning predator, knew the sign of submission well and thought to bring matters to a close as quickly as possible.

"I'll tell you all about me when I walk you home after class. Now, come along!" she said to her subdued student. "Class has been disrupted for far too long already!"

Taking hold of his hand, Willie led and Simon followed as they returned to the studio.

Good to her word, she did accompany Simon and his friend Rosaline home as she had promised. She carried Simon's bag and held his hand firmly in hers. Then because she had asked, Simon began explaining all the reasons he wore his "dress and bandanna disguise." He explained to her as best he could about his fear of being found out, and what that would mean for his future in ballet.

"Actually, the dress and bandanna disguise was Rosaline's idea," Simon explained. "She was the one who introduced me to madam Leonora and figured out how I could go to the class without anyone knowing!"

He went on to explain how he'd walk from his house to Rosaline's, change into his "disguise" then the two of them would go to class together.

"You see, Rosaline's mother doesn't get off work until six and doesn't know a thing about it. And Madam Leonora promised to never say a word, so . . ."

"That's very clever of you, Rosaline," Wilhelmina commented. "But how did you come up with the dress as a disguise?"

"Well, Simon didn't want to. He didn't like the idea, not one little bit," Rosaline thoughtfully reflected.

"I still don't!" Simon added.

"You don't?" queried Wilhelmina.

"No! I'm not a sissy. I just want to dance ballet."

"That's true! He's not a sissy. He's very brave," Rosaline chipped in. "He's just like my dad. My dad loves ballet too, and he's not a sissy. My dad is a firefighter, and is always telling me how he wishes he were young again to follow his heart and learn to dance. He says that when I dance I should remember that I have all his fondest hopes and aspirations. He tells me I am dancing for us both."

"You have a very loving father, Rosaline" Wilhelmina said.

"He is, and Simon is just like my dad. So I told my dad about this boy I know who loved ballet but was frightened of what would happen if anyone discovered his secret. I asked him what my friend should do and he told me 'everyone should follow their heart'. He also said, 'we shouldn't let what others think separate us from our dreams'."

I told Simon what my dad told me and he decided that he owed it to himself to try. He is very brave. Now, would a sissy do that?"

"I suppose not." Wilhelmina offered. "But why dress like a girl?"

"We tried my dad's overcoat and dark glasses first, but the first day Mrs. Weatherspoon next door recognized him right off. She knows Simon's mom and said that she didn't know what was going on but would speak with Mrs. Gray if she saw anything else like that again. I had to think of something less obvious. He didn't want to, but it worked. He uses my old leotards to wear under an old dress, and a bandanna to disguise his head. Dressed as a girl, no one bothers looking twice. Not even Mrs. Weatherspoon, and after Madam Leonora promised to help keep his secret, it's worked ever since."

"I still don't like it!" Injected Simon.

"You have to admit though, you do make a very pretty girl," Rosaline giggled.

"Jiminy-cricket! Will you stop it, Rosaline!"

"It's true! Even Madam Leonora compliments him on how natural he looks in a dress. She also says that his arabesque and sissonnes come more naturally to Simon than most girls."

"You certainly must love ballet to go through all this, Simon"

"Oh, I do! I've always loved ballet. It's like Madam says, it's the form and the movement that expresses life's beauty like nothing else can. And it's true. I feel a part of that beauty when I dance."

"But this studio is for young women. You must get teased a lot."

"Sure he is," Rosaline interjected. "We all tease him, but we don't call him names or poke fun of him. Like Madam says, it's okay to tease about the things that make us different if it's meant to show affection, and share camaraderie. Sometimes it's good to have friends who can make us laugh at ourselves like that, and can laugh right along with us."

"That means you're all very close friends?"

"Ah-hu! We're a team, and teams stick together like glue."

"Odd! Usually in groups like this everyone is always snipping at one another."

"Madam calls us odd too. She says we're her little oddballs, and when we dance together in our troupe we celebrate what makes us different from the kids in the street - it's a creative journey we all take part in. She also says it's okay to be different because that's where genius lingers waiting to be discovered. So it doesn't matter if we tease him when Madam powders his cheeks or puts a pretty ribbon in his hair. The only thing that matters is he's one of us - just another oddball with the same genius as me."

"I see. Simon is very lucky to have such understanding friends."

"What about your mother, Simon? What does she think of this?" Wilhelmina prodded.

For all his candor, Wilhelmina could tell from his sudden pause that the matter of his mother was a problem for him. She had thought not to press the matter when he just as suddenly told her the importance of keeping his secret from her. He went on to explain how he had actually led her to believe he was attending Tae Kwon Do three days a week, not just one. He said that his mother didn't know about Madam Leonora's nor what he was doing to attend her classes. Simon added that his mother had certain beliefs about how a boy is supposed to behave.

"She says I should always act proper, and not disgrace myself, or her!"

"Oh?" Wilhelmina queried. "That means you would be a disgrace if she knew. . . I mean . . . thought, you were a sissy?"

"Yes! That's why I could never tell her about ballet!"

Wilhelmina felt surprised by what she had heard. In truth, she had already formulated an opinion regarding Simon's circumstance, and the image of a brave boy doing what he must just to dance didn't fit her preconceived notion. It was clearly in his sensitive nature to embrace the world through a feminine mind set, and he did little to hide his effeminacy. However, there was also another part of Simon which he expressed in his fear of being found out, the shame of being called a sissy and knowing what that would mean to his mother.

That said, it didn't matter to her whether he was a sissy-boy or not. His honesty and his motives seemed so unpretentious and clear. She heard in his voice a boy who loved ballet, and saw in his deeds a boy who wanted to dance. Wilhelmina couldn't help but admire what she saw in him. Like herself, he was trying to forge his own way with only a vague sense as to which way he should go. Was this reason enough for fate to have drawn her into this studio - to help Simon?

There was an irony in the notion that in helping Simon find his way she'd be helping herself just as well. She wasn't sure how all that was suppose to come out, but she knew it was somehow meant for her to help. That much she could tell just by watching him fidget with a wayward lank of hair, curling it around a forefinger just under his chin. Looking so utterly vulnerable in his dress and bandanna disguise, she put her arms around his shoulders to shelter him, then promised that in the future things would be different.

"Will I still have to wear a dress?"

"Unfortunately, yes!" Wilhelmina affirmed. "I understand how you feel about it. I really do! No one dislikes it any more than I do, but you can never be too careful if you want to keep this secret from your mother. One day when you've the respect of a great dancer you can go to ballet dressed as you please. That much I can promise you!"

She then went on to tell him about herself, her famous mother and about both their many accomplishments in the world of ballet. She also told him about how much she thought of his dancing. She could see his joy written on his smile when she spoke of his potential, and how he had danced so very well.

"Of course there are many tricks to the trade and nuances you must learn. . . but if you're willing to make the commitment and listen closely to what I have to tell you, you'll find success."

Wilhelmina was delighted to see him so flushed with excitement, but it was his voice and his words of candor that made her laugh for the first time in years - giving her reason to live once again.

"Can you teach me to be as good at Tae Kwon Do?"

She had to tell him no, of course. She pointed out that he really wasn't cut out to make a good Martial Arts student. They all had a good laugh over her honesty. Then as the three approached Rosaline's tenement stairs, Wilhelmina gave thought to the new sense of comfort she had found. No one questioned her style of dress, nor her manner. Gone was the anger and the frustration. Now, she felt the joy from the laughter and a renewed pride in whom and what she was. As for Simon, she couldn't really explain the feelings she had toward him other than it just felt right to want to help. She also knew that standing beside him she felt a new purpose. Wilhelmina really didn't understand it all yet, but intuitively knew that if ever she was to find the meaning of it all, Simon would somehow play a part.

Chapter VI The Preparations

Wilhelmina watched over her young troupe going through their paces at barre. She carefully scrutinized the plie, developpe and battement reps with the eye of an artisan and the determination of a drill instructor.

"Your hands, people . . . the movement is about the hands! Remember, palms inward, arc the elbow and the wrists in a crescent. The sweep upward should be like a slow breeze filling a ship's sail."

"Loosen your wrists, Rachel! Like so, oui?"

"Remember your hands are expressing something. Let them speak for you. Watch and listen to what they are saying!"

No one had reason to question Wilhelmina's command of the dancing arts nor her commitment to her troupe. Whether she spoke sharply or in praise it was never disputed in whose interest she labored. That was just as true before as after she revised the program to include her new rehearsal protocols and routines, all of which Leonora and her students happily embraced.

The changes made sense to everyone. It stood to reason that one "should be judged on proper mien as one is judged on performance." Moreover, everyone would now train with performance objects in mind, and always "en costume" to add purpose and refinement to one's efforts. The change meant that everyone would now have to wear their new matching blue Danseskin leotards, and white tights for every session.

She had Katherine's charitable donation to thank for the more gender-neutral costumes, replete with a warm-up jacket with a "Junior Ballet Assn." crest on the sleeve. The donation came at no small expense, and soon became the nexus around which their new sense of group pride and identity emerged. Everyone was pleased, especially Simon, who would no longer have to wear the more feminine pink leotard and white stretch-knit stockings he had borrowed from Rosaline.

Wilhelmina couldn't have been more grateful for everything her mother now saw fit to do for her, nor could Katherine had been more happy to help. After all, Katherine had a lot to be thankful about these days. She saw her contribution to her daughter's troupe as but a small token of her appreciation, happily given after the renewal of their mother-daughter relationship.

Much had changed in Wilhelmina and Katherine's relationship since the day of the Lacy Richardson affair. After her chance encounter with Leonora and Simon, she went home to talk with her mother. It was Wilhelmina who had taken the initiative to set things right, and the smile she wore was the first Katherine had seen on her daughter's face in years.

That night Wilhelmina told her mother about wanting to "right" her life, about Leonora's studio and how it all seemed to point to her lack of direction. She spoke about the students who respected her for her talents and how unassuming and nonjudgmental they were about her choice of dress. She also said that while this was a great opportunity, it was something she could only do on her own terms. That meant Katherine would have to accept her for whom she was. She would gladly give up all identity associated with her wretched past, but in her manner and dress could no longer be expected to be Katherine's, "pretty little princess".

Katherine wasn't overcome with joy over her daughters well chosen words, but she accepted them. She believed it was a good start on the eventual return to normal life for Wilhelmina, and held her tongue. In doing so, mother and daughter reached out to one another, and Katherine embraced her daughter for the first time in years.

Their joyful reconciliation brought a promise to respect Wilhelmina's wishes and, after a phone call to her attorney, Katherine expressed confidence that the juvenile court judge could be convinced to do the same. Surely the court would insist upon restrictions in her associations, a repayment of medical costs and probation. In the end, however, she felt confident she could convince the court to grant Wilhelmina her freedom as well.

Both mother and daughter held to their word. Wilhelmina was smiling again and the open exchange broke down the barriers that had added to their pain. In compliance of the court order, she gladly ceased all association with Tae Kwon Do, the gym, the Warlords and Banshees. To end the unnecessary antagonism, Katherine ceased her criticisms of Wilhelmina's dress and Wilhelmina stopped the exaggerated fashion statement that no longer suited her.

Her new fashion of choice was a white denim, Versace suit and matching toulouse fedora. Wilhelmina acquired the men's apparel and all the associated accents the next day, dragging a hesitant Katherine along with her. They shopped at the Men's Emporium, of course. Above all else, Wilhelmina would stand firm on the cut of the coat, the trousers and the style of the red tie and brown Wingtips. As well, the signature of her apparel would remain the long, black comb kept in her back pocket to primp her slicked back pompadour. Wilhelmina left the store pleased with her new image. As for Katherine? While she had hoped that her daughter would also abandon the jockey shorts and sideburns, she was pleased those detestable black leathers, and Warlord jacket were gone forever.

The dawn of Wilhelmina's new life began in Leonora's dance studio with the first blossoms of spring. Given full creative and artistic control, she set off to resurrect the spirit of the program and rekindle a glory now as faded as the sun worn drapery. From the elements that made up the whole of Madam Leonora's little studio she created a new world of her own making. She alone ordained the genesis, evolution, and the order of all things ballet - all with Leonora's smiling approval. After all, she had no reason to doubt the proven skills of her new dance mistress dressed in her white denim Versace suit. Neither did the little corps de ballet, who happily paid homage with the adoration in their hearts. At Madam Leonora's, no one questioned Wilhelmina's masculine appearance - nor her past.

Day after day, she gratefully committed her all to her devoted congregation, free to renounce the past she wanted to keep secret. That is, until the day an unexpected and unwelcome memory came slithering through the front door. It was just her 2nd week at the studio and she recognized him immediately, as he did her. The sight of Bubba "Snake" Johnson, in his black leather Warlord jacket, with that dimwitted smirk on his face brought all life in the studio instantly to a halt.

She felt certain that his acknowledging gesture toward her was going to lead to her ruin, but a quick acting Leonora intervened, escorting him into her office instead. Everything seemed cordial enough, and before Leonora closed the door behind them Wilhelmina could hear him asking about a janitor job that was available. Of course, the fact that he had come stumbling into the studio looking for a job did little to ease her anxiety. Nor did the fact that they spoke behind the closed door for so agonizingly long.

Pensive and prepared for the worst, she waited for the moment Leonora would angrily storm out of the office having learned all about her deplorable past. She would know about "Willie the Warlord" who had assaulted an innocent girl; about the lies she perpetrated to conceal the truth, and the deceit behind her "good Samaritan" offer so she could stay. In anger, Leonora would kick her out of the studio, no explanations asked; Simon, and her hopes for redemption lost forever.

But when they emerged neither Buddy nor Leonora looked Wilhelmina's way, nor spoke to anyone as Leonora escorted him out the door. That was the last she was to see of him and Leonora never gave any hint that he had revealed any truth about her. Whether Leonora knew more than she would tell about Wilhelmina's unsightly past, or chose to keep what she knew secret, did little to bolster her shaken confidence.

Exactly what motive Leonora could have in keeping what happened in the office a secret Wilhelmina didn't know. She even wondered whether she had wrongly placed her trust in Leonora. Nevertheless, as the room filled with activity and her students cried out for her attention, she gave up worrying and threw herself into her work. Without a clue to go on, there was nothing else for her to do. How could she know that Leonora secretly rejoiced over all she had learned from Bubba, or that while she began working with her students again, Leonora sat in her office planning all that was yet to come.

"Demi-plie' and stretch! Demi-plie' and stretch! . . .Extension, Rachel! Torso over hips is critical, my dear!"

Even after the operation had confined Leonora to a wheelchair Wilhelmina still counted on her for help with the class. Not surprisingly, Leonora was only too pleased to help, choosing to oversee the costume and grooming of all in the little troupe. It made the best of sense because she had already been crusading to see that everyone followed Wilhelmina's "en costume" and "proper mien" edicts to a tee.

"It will not do to have unsightly nails, or skin of a rhinoceros," Leonora would declare. "We shall be judged on our person as we are judged on our performance."

Of course, it helped that everyone had the utmost respect for Leonora. At 65, she could be a bit too resolute in her thinking, and at times unyielding. Although she was also very fair minded, with a sense of equality that underscored her desire to do what was best for all. Given her comforting smile and motherly affections, her students found her endearing, and impossible to disagree with. Now bound to a wheelchair as she was, they would jump through a ring of fire to accommodate her.

Leonora's posture toward her students was a given. She expected the same from them all, holding all to the same standards. In fact, her desire to hold everyone to the same standards was the gospel of equity Leonora taught. She was just as apt to fuss over Simon's attire as that of the girls. The same held when she advised him on the care of his nails, or how to maintain the smoothness of his legs. She did so with everyone, and it had been this way long before Wilhelmina had arrived on the scene.

Simon was a high school sophomore when Leonora had first met him. He came with a student of hers, Rosaline Maxwell, and Rosaline spoke, because it had been she who had convinced Simon to forego his fears, and his masculine identity beneath the dress and bandanna disguise. It was the best she could do for her friend who wanted to dance ballet, but feared having his secret known.

Whenever Leonora recalled her first meeting with Simon she always wore the most sublime grin. How could she not? As Leonora told the story, "It wasn't every day that a boy wearing a dress and bandanna disguise came through the door asking 'to dance ballet just like Rosaline'." She was also quick to tell how his unusual request had startled her, but after regaining her composure she saw in him a sincerity far more reaching than the naivete of his words.

"At first, I thought it was a prank, a Halloween trick come February. Then I saw the way he was - eyes lowered, his hands fidgeting with a cord-belt tied about the waist of what was Roseline's borrowed dress - and I knew."

She was honest with him, telling him that though this was not the kind of thing a boy usually wanted, she understood his desire, and agreed. For the sake of propriety she agreed to do her part to keep his secret as well.

Naturally, questions abound right from the start. How was she to justify the presence of a boy in this exclusive feminine and, till now, exclusionary world of her making? This was supposed to be a girls only world, a place where girls can be girls apart from the pervasively male dominant world outside. Clearly changes would be in order if this was to work, and she told him so.

First, Leonora promised that she would always be candid with him. She told him that ballet demanded complete commitment, and since she expected the same commitment from everyone it wouldn't do to treat him differently, or give him special favors. On this point she was adamant. It was to be a rule that both would have to honor and always abide if this was going to work.

Then too, it would take more than group conformity if the troupe were to function as a unit. This was an all girl troupe after all, and Simon was a boy. A different sort of boy, but a boy nonetheless. To Leonora, all boys suffered from the same unruliness and inattention as your average bull in a china shop. Obviously such boyishness wouldn't do, so she made a point of this too, telling him he'd have to leave the boyish snips and snails behind in the street; that inside this studio, only sugar and spice would do.

"It won't be easy, Simon. I can be very intolerant, especially when it comes to inattention, recalcitrance and sloppiness; but if you are willing to try . . ."

In turn, she promised that she would do her best to subdue his boyish penchant and to keep his attention from wandering. If he agreed, this too would become a rule upon which both would abide.

For his part, Simon was all too happy to agree. He said he didn't want special treatment, he only wanted to dance. He promised he'd do whatever it took not to be a problem and do whatever Leonora asked of him. Indeed, it was a teary eyed Simon who begged to be given the chance, promising to mind her every word. Whether he fully understood the implications of her sugar and spice refrain made little difference to Leonora. She'd expect nothing less from him regardless, then set out to teach Simon how to become the dancer he wanted to be.

It didn't take long for Leonora to see his natural gifts and his potential. He was a quick learner, exceedingly handsome with the natural lean and delicate appearance one would expect of a dancer. In addition, he possessed an infectious exuberance in everything he did. Always bright and cheerful, everyone in the troupe had nothing but the warmest affections toward him. All this came naturally to Simon, as did the accommodations he made. Having been raised without paternal influence had already made him thoroughly respectful of everything feminine. In fact, he had such respect for things feminine that neither the girlish attire, incessant teasing, nor the things Leonora asked him to do deterred him.

Arguably, there is a lot more to learn about becoming a ballet dancer than learning the movements and putting on the exercise leotard. Simon understood this and, because he asked and was anxious to learn, Leonora took it upon herself to show him what a dancer must do to appear properly groomed.

"As the language of the body is the key to success in dance, proper grooming holds boys and girls in equally good stead."

As she did all her students, Leonora advised him how to manage the collar length hair that hindered his vision. Of course her solution was the most obvious and natural. She showed him how to gather up his hair and bind it in a ponytail with a pink tie to keep it neat and out of his way. Along with that, she also advised him on the importance of shaving his legs and underarms as she told him "all ballet dancers must do." She taught him how to avoid unsightly acne with a daily facial scrub regime, then provided a small cosmetic case containing all the items he would need. It was a case he could conceal on his person, kept hidden from his mother, and containing nothing too flowery so as not arouse suspicion. She assured him that she would replenish the shaving gel, disposable razors and skin cleansers when needed, and expected him to follow the regime every day.

Simon followed Leonora's grooming program, and to ease any suspicions his mother might have had, he told her that his new rosy aspect was just part of the Eastern religious tenets of Tae Kwon Do mastery. He explained that it's the nature of Eastern thought for something so potentially violent to also be poised, refined and splendid: ". . . like the Lion before he strikes."

It was a good enough explanation, though Eunice never asked him to explain himself. All the mattered was that Tae Kwon Do was a manly art, and the male attachments he found there would surely help cultivate the independent young man she wanted him to become. Was she suppose to think there was more to his manicured nails, clean shaven legs, and flowery scent other than he claimed? She knew enough about her son, and not enough about this mysterious Eastern art form to question his word. Besides, she had to admire the fact that he so loved Tae Kwon Do that he even endure having a fellow warrior pierce his ears for the little Lotus Flower pendants - vaulted symbols of Eastern thought - so he'd look poised and splendid before his enemy.

In turn, Simon was free to accommodate the girlish world of ribbons and lace about him. His hair, skin and nails enjoyed the daily application of specialty soaps, creams, shampoos, and oils carried home in his hidden cosmetic case. They softened, soothed and moisturized every part of him; any remaining blemishes were covered with foundation. Surely Leonora could not expect less from Simon than what she expected from everyone else. In fact, she insisted that for girls and boys alike; special attention to proper hygiene and grooming was essential All of this he accepted, and none of it he refused because it wouldn't do for him to be given special favors, nor to be treated differently.

"Filles! . . . et jeune monsieur! It's time we untie your blocks so I can see how well we've tended to the rest of our nails!"

Now, after almost two years of such treatment, Simon featured the most rosy complexion, the most delicious nails and legs as smooth and soft as any girl in class. As he said of himself to his mother, "I'm a fearless warrior, poised and splendid ready to strike" - though not very likely to strike fear in the heart of his enemy. That is, of course, unless his enemy happened to suffer an allergic response to his richly fragrant perfume.

To say that Leonora looked upon her creation fondly would be an understatement. Like a mother cat tending to her kitten, she scrutinized his appearance at every turn and seldom neglected an affectionate pat on his bottom, telling him how pretty he looked.

"I declare! If you are not the prettiest lass in Manhattan", Leonora would purr.

Naturally, Simon would blush from the compliment, rather than the innuendo in her words. Then he would sigh and kiss Leonora gratefully on the cheek before stepping out onto the dance floor without a second thought.

Obviously there was much to Leonora and Simon's relationship that Wilhelmina was yet to understand. In truth, she often found herself scratching her head in wonder over the bond forged between them. It hardly mattered though. She would never think to question the nature of that bond no matter how stringent Leonora's resolve, nor how great a shadow she cast over a lesser Simon. To Wilhelmina, theirs was a relationship years in the making, and the trust they had for one another made it quite apparent that theirs was a relationship that served them both well.

Indeed, she had only the best of reasons to believe in Leonora just as Simon did. She was firm, yet evenhanded, mothering and protective of all in her brood. She was all this and more toward Simon, who always had her attention, and whose best interests were always first on her mind.

"It serves no one's interest to single him out for special treatment. Pointing him out as an oddity will only make it harder on him, and unfair to the others."

For the first few months, Leonora left the business of the day in Wilhelmina's capable hands. In truth, she kept herself invisibly tucked away in her office, busy with the editing work that many production companies had contracted her to perform. She had every confidence that Wilhelmina would manage the class admirably, and showed it by leaving her to her affairs as she saw fit. That is, until the last half-hour of each session.

That's when Leonora would exercise her self-appointed duties managing the proper hygiene and grooming habits of all in her little troupe. That was also the time Wilhelmina thought best to keep her nose out from where it might not be welcome. Instead, she would sit behind Leonora's desk to help as best she could with the script-editing work that Leonora had yet to complete. There she would work with one eye on the correction's Leonora had made, and the other peering into the studio from a respectable distance.

But respectable distance, or not, a more peculiar spectacle one was not likely to see! From her seat in the office, Wilhelmina would shrug her shoulders, and shake her head over the things Leonora did in the name of Simon's best interest. It was a sight to watch her attend to everyone's nails, complexion and costume with such attention to detail. If that spectacle wasn't enough to cause her to shake her head in wonder, she need only consider Simon, virtually indistinguishable in his dress and demeanor from the girls. Simon and girls alike; prim and proper, every be-ribboned ponytail brushed, every plump rosy cheek aglow. Then Leonora's, "Filles, et jeune monsieur, best face forward," would bring into focus the earnest faces - all prettily painted as they were.

With all her pixies in a row, Leonora would closely inspect each beautifully sculpted, rose pink nail. Then she would have them stand en pointe, one elegantly pointed slipper postured before the other. With arms up in a crowning 5th position, glossed lips pursed and chins held high, she'd inspect the shaven smoothness of each leg, under arm and bikini line. Then when done, the rosy hue of blushing cheeks gave ample evidence to the health of their complexions, Simon's included!

It was left for Wilhelmina to wonder if Leonora's discerning fingers left any personal modesty un-compromised. Here, she chose to ignore the details. Besides the occasional sound of panty elastic snapping back in place, the occasional giggle or humorous refrain, Wilhelmina found it far too distracting to look up from her work.

"Prickly leafs, on a flower so sweet, is never pleasing, pretty or neat. Silky smooth, not stubble nor debris, A pistil to attract the pollinating bee."

Though she chose not to bother with Leonora's antics, Wilhelmina did muse over the absurdity of it all. It wasn't just her humorous propensity to refer to her students as "flowers" in the studio "garden", nor that Simon would want to keep himself, and his pistil (whatever that was), shaven smooth to attract pollinating bees. What she found amusing was Simon's unwavering resignation to Leonora's treatment of him. When she stopped to consider the sight of him amid the girlish array, she entertained the strangest thought. What if Leonora were to have him step out onto the floor in pretty lace panties and training bra, or worse yet, nothing at all? Would he still not complain?

Of course, Wilhelmina found Simon's acceptance of all this as rather peculiar, especially since he professed such love for his mother and lived in continual fear of shaming her. Wilhelmina would have thought that any boy worth the weight of his genetic code would have fought like hell to preserve his masculinity. Not Simon. His only utterance was his sigh, and to Wilhelmina his silence said more about himself, and the nature of his relationship with Leonora than words ever could.

Wilhelmina said nothing about Leonora's strange antics. As she saw it, no complaint, no harm done. She had promised Simon she would help him become the ballet dancer of his dreams, and it mattered not whether he danced as a boy or a girl. Instead she remained quiet, and kept herself busy with the work in the office. Then at the end of the day, when it was time to walk him home, she'd simply return his glance with a smile. Along with her smile, her unspoken acknowledgment that gave Simon reason enough to resign himself to his circumstance, even more.

Yet we must remember that Wilhelmina did have her principles. Indeed, she even considered herself rather high minded about such things as fair play and equality. Sissy boy or not, she wasn't going to stand by and allow anyone to take advantage of him. To that end she continued to look on with a judicious eye, cautiously receptive of Leonora's strange theatrics.

Throughout the Spring, Wilhelmina worked hard to engender a new sense of pride and accomplishment in her little troupe. She demanded a lot from them and their progress exceeded in ways what neither she nor Leonora could have envisioned. It was an extraordinary transformation from what had been just a few short months before. One could not watch them dance without seeing as promising a troupe as could be found anywhere.

This was especially true about Simon, who had quickly become the best dancer in their troupe. Wilhelmina was due the credit for using the best of all she had learned to make her students success possible. Experience taught her to expect practical outcomes, then teach goal directed activities. To accomplish this she entered her troupe in a competition to test their fledgling skills and to help her "teach up" to the level everyone aspired. The competition she chose was the annual Youth Ballet Competition, sponsored by the Center for the Performing Arts.

Wilhelmina knew that the annual pageant at the Center always brought out the best. The instant recognition and the $500.00 first prize for the Most Outstanding School, not to mention the Individual Best in Performance, assured that. She knew that annual competition would be tough; perhaps a bit too tough for their first competition. Had it not been for Katherine and Leonora's prodding to register her troupe for the competition she certainly wouldn't have even thought to do so on her own.

Perhaps it was Katherine's puzzling wink-and-a-nod, followed by her comment about the chief judge being an old friend that brought Wilhelmina around to their way of thinking. Perhaps it was a need to pull for the underdog, to help gain some recognition for the otherwise invisible little studio. Whatever her reasons for entering the competition, Wilhelmina worked hard to bring out the best in her dancers, giving them every opportunity to succeed. Now, after three months to ready themselves and only one month remaining before the competition, the importance of it all was only now coming to bear.

Thus far, both Leonora and Wilhelmina were very pleased with how their arrangement of Act II, "The Rose Garden" from Sleeping Beauty was turning out. It was the selection assigned to her troupe by the contest committee, but from the start she was puzzled as to how the committee had come to make this choice considering the presence of a boy in her troupe. Clearly a mistake had been made, and as there were no boy fairies in the Rose Garden scene, she believed she had every right to appeal the selection for the choice of another. However, from the onset Leonora had favored it. While she swore that the error made by the contest committee was not her doing, she believed the choice uniquely suited for both genders equally.

"Wilhelmina. It's not at all unusual to see a male dancer add his masculine panache to a traditional lady's routine. In fact, I find it rather fanciful, don't you?"

Wilhelmina found it a reach to argue that it was simply a matter of Simon's costume, or his learning a few feminine movements. She also couldn't shake the feeling that Leonora was tactfully and skillfully maneuvering her into agreeing to something against her better judgment. In the end, however, it was Leonora's powers of persuasion that convinced her, and everyone else, that the choice was fitting. While unsettled by Leonora's argument, she thought it wise not to question her counsel and let the selection stand. As for Simon? Whether it was because of his naivete, or because it was in his nature not to protest, he was the first to agree.

The following months of preparation did not bring a single word of complaint from him. He learned the distinctively feminine movements with ease. As well, he expressed such devotion to the artistry of his work, always aspiring to be the best. That is, until the fairy costumes the troupe would wear for the performance arrived at the studio.

Much like all other pageants, the contest committee mandated what contestants would wear to eliminate costuming as a factor in judging. In truth, the committee mandated that the same camisole design leotards of cotton chiffon be worn year after year. There were rose colored costumes for the Rose fairies, aqua for the Woodland fairies, black for Carabosse and a soft white chiffon for Princess Aurora. If you excluded the French cut panty, the sheer fabric and embroidered lace and sequined lattice wings, the spaghetti strap camisole design was rather modest by most standards. Though modest as the costume might have been, Simon was quite peeved when he first saw it.

"Wilhelmina! I can't wear this on stage!"

Though Wilhelmina knew that no male would want to be caught dead wearing a costume so obviously feminine, she found it difficult to feel sorry for him. She knew all about his fear of shaming his mother and all else that the term "sissy" implied. However, in her way of thinking, he should have seen this coming. Hadn't he agreed with Leonora that the "Rose Garden" selection was suitable for the troupe to perform? As well, he won the lead role of Princess Aurora not only because he was the best dancer, but because he wanted it. What was he expecting? Was he so naive as to believe Leonora or the contest committee would allow him to dance a girl's part in a boy costume?

Still it played heavily upon her sense of fair play to try to convince Simon to do something he didn't want to do and, knowing how he felt, it troubled her to have to use her influence over him in this way. Making matters worse was the fact that none of this was her doing. Leonora had set this up, if a setup it could be called - and Wilhelmina didn't like it one little bit.

Even so, Wilhelmina knew that preparations had already come too far to change things now. The truth was that without him, the troupe would have to withdraw from the competition. Under the circumstance she had no choice, and she told him so.

"Look, Simon! My hands are tied and there's nothing I can do. You know that the contest committee governs what contestants will wear, not me. Now, it's yours to decide if the best dancer in the troupe is to dance the lead role you have earned. Just remember that everything this troupe has been working so hard to achieve depends upon what you decide."

"Yes, but. . . "

"Yes, but nothing, Simon! You must have known this was coming, and if not, you should have."

"Wilhelmina! Everyone's going to call me a sissy!"

"No one is going to know, unless you tell them," she rebuked, no longer bothering to hide her agitation.

"Think of it like the dress and bandanna disguise you wear to class. Just another masquerade to hide your little secret!"

"But I'll be on stage. . . in front of judges! How can anyone not know?"

"Well now! Have a look at yourself, Simon. You're wearing pink leotards and ballet blocks. You have your ponytail tied with a ribbon; you've smoothly shaven legs and cheeks so rosy that it's impossible not to mistake you for an enchanted fairy. Do you think a dainty camisole leotard with wings is going to make a difference?"

"Please don't be angry with me, Wilhelmina. It's just that I know it will never work and then my mother will find out. It'll be the end of her, I know!"

"Simon! This was your idea, not mine! You agreed with Leonora. Now you deal with it!"

"Oh! Wilhelmina, Please! What should I do?"

"The choice is yours, not mine. Either you chose not to dance and we withdraw from the competition, or you stop acting like a wimp, put on that damn costume, and stop the bitch'in."

Although leery, he reluctantly agreed that the sheer abstraction he would have to wear as Princess Aurora wasn't reason enough for him to give up the lead role he had earned. As well, it was far easier for him to agree than to disappoint someone whom he cared very much about. So to appease Wilhelmina he agreed, and she thanked him in recognition of his sacrifice. Then to not further upset him she thought it wise to keep secret the crinoline ruffle tutu, flower tiara and nylon hosiery that would be added to his costume later.

It was the gaff harness with its accompanying silk panty that truly drew his ire. The matched pieces were designed to conceal his masculine bulge back up between his legs, and the meager rose colored piece of silk was nothing he wished to trifle with. As the gaff and panty were Madam Leonora's personal addenda to the costume it was now her time to intervene.

She told Simon he should not feel ashamed. She said that it was not the costume that made one a great dancer - it was his performance that mattered. Not wanting to knock the petals off her young bloom, she then did what was her custom whenever she wished to remind Simon of something important. She'd take his hands in hers; gaze intently into his eyes; and carefully measure the cadence and sound of her voice.

"Rule one, Simon. I expect nothing more of you than I expect from everyone else. Rule two. I told you this was not a place for boyish snips and snails. Now tell me, Simon! Will another choice of costume make you a better dancer? Will wearing the panty make you any less a man or command anymore, or less, respect for your performance?"

After explaining that the girls would wear the gaff, panty and a wrap to flatten the chest, he grudgingly agreed that in fairness to all that he too would conform. After all, wasn't in the nature of their relationship for him to acquiesce to Leonora's wishes? Besides, as Leonora was quick to point out, ". . . without it, everyone was going to see every last detail of that lil'pinkie of yours sticking out through the sheer."

She didn't need to continue on with her agrument, but as it was common place for her to carry her satirical antics to the extreme, she did so anyway. She drew up close to him and dangled the diaphanous little garment before his startled eyes for him to take hold of. "Come now, Simon. They'll not bite you. Look! It has the all the same dainty ribbon-bows and pretty lace trim the girls must also wear."

Leonora's bold pronouncement caused a stir of giggles. He hesitated, then joined his friends in a self-effacing laugh at himself before reaching to take hold of what was his. "Or would you prefer I ask the girls to wear boxer shorts to accommodate your timidity?"

Once again, using her shrewd persuasiveness Leonora prevailed, convincing Simon that the intimate apparel was both fitting and fair to wear under the circumstances.

After everything was said, there was no question as to the fit of the costume and - with no obvious visible disparity - how nice it looked upon him! The high hip cut made his naturally long and slender legs appear unending, and the bare shoulder camisole gave his spindly arms the sweeping largeness of wings. Excluding his flush caused by the teasing lavishly imposed upon him, it would have been hard to single him out among the others. He was a pleasure to look at, and either by the feminine habits he was quickly assimilating, or by Leonora's prodding, Simon appeared the little ingenue as well.

When in costume, he was never without his radiant smile, infectious laughter nor capricious playfulness. Standing with his arms wrapped around his midriff, or his hands held conspicuously high and away to keep from crimping the bellowing flounce about his hips, he didn't seem a boy in duress. Neither did his mannerisms, mimicked after the girls about him. He was forever pulling up on his slackened camisole bodice as the girls did to insure a bust's modest decolletage, and forever pulling down on the elasticized material that inched up between the crease in his plump bottom.

As the "disguises" that Simon now counted upon to conceal his masculine identity continued to grow, so did his acceptance of his circumstance. Like the sacrifice made by a dedicated trouper, he courageously relinquished a bit more of himself for the good of the cause. But sacrifice, or not, his pollyanna-ish view of the sacrifices he was making did not go unnoticed by his classmates. Especially Gerty, who caused a flurry of giggles by asking Simon if he was going to be wearing a white strapless bra to coordinate with the bodice, or a pink one to match his new, pretty panty?

"Just ask to borrow one of her trainers." Rosaline laughed out in his defense. "It works for her."

When all was said and done, the whole affair proved quite an eye opener for Wilhelmina. Suddenly, Leonora no longer looked like the tired and worn ballet mistress she had once appeared. Her character was evolving, no less than Simon's and equally unexpected. To be candid, her manipulation of Wilhelmina was as cunning a maneuver as any she had witnessed in the Banshee sisterhood. Likewise, her control of the situation, along with her dominion over Simon showed the kind of skill that would make anyone a very worthy opponent.

These were certainly busy times for Wilhelmina considering all the work yet to be done before their upcoming performance of Sleeping Beauty. In all manner of ways she juggled what time there never seemed enough of. It was all very demanding, but she always found the time for her work-out in the weight room at school, keeping herself fit and consuming those hormone laden cocktails in mass quantities. She even found the time to occasionally stop by Frank's Tattoo Parlor.

She didn't know why she was drawn there. It was, after all, part of the past she was trying hard to forget. Frank's, like everything else about her past life was nothing she was proud of, and going there only heightened her worry about the consequences should Leonora find out about any of this. For twenty bucks Frank would have gladly "ratted" on her - telling every agonizing detail about Alyssa, the Warlords and about the Lacy Richardson incident. If she had thought it through she would have known that it wasn't worth it. The risk of being tossed from Leonora's studio for so little didn't even make sense, but as old habits die hard she went anyway.

She cautiously found her way back to Frank's, and after seeing his titanic smile and hearing his infectious laughter she quickly found the old comfort she once knew there. She'd perused the wears and listen to the gossip about everything, including all he had knew about Alyssa's most recent stint in juvenile hall for grand thief. She even found a comfort in listening to Frank try yet again to talk her into that "Devil or Angel" tattoo she wanted so much to be hers. He'd try his best to coax her, but as they both knew she still wasn't ready, he'd finally resign himself to tell her, "One day . . . I'm a-go'in ta paint on Willie's arm da' badest damn tat-toooo I've ever done - jus ta' make ya' proud." On that she turned to leave, then wistfully replied, "One day, Frank. When I'm ready."

Like Wilhelmina, the weeks leading up to the performance were also busy ones for Simon. Now resolute to the task of bringing a certain masculine panache to a traditional ladies routine, he gave it his all. That is, he gave what little remained of his unique masculine self. Thanks to the feminine habits he was quickly assimilating there wasn't a lot left of his manly style and flair to exude. Of course Simon couldn't see that. He was naively unsuspecting as he labored to perfect every nuance, convinced he was adding that certain quality that Leonora said was his alone to give.

"Honestly, darling. You have such a lovely touch of mystery about your princess. One can scarcely see the impersonation."

It was about this time that matters about the studio also began to change. In offering to help Simon refine the subtle nuances of his role, Leonora began to impose more of herself in the daily affairs of the studio. This unwelcomed intrusion into her affairs was a big problem for Wilhelmina because Leonora's increased presence also meant a more outspoken Leonora who was bolder and more imposing than ever before.

"Ahhh, that's my sugar! Let your audience share the mystery behind those fluttering lashes and pursed, red lips. Oh my! The spice, so nice!"

Perhaps Wilhelmina should've asked Leonora if she hadn't enough to keep her busy in the office! All her eccentricities aside, her flamboyant, soap opera-like antics were an extreme aggravation, and it was difficult to understand why she would behave this way.

She thought that Leonora would have wanted to serve as a model of stateliness and decorum to which her students could aspire - with dignity and professionalism. Apparently, Leonora saw it otherwise. Instead when she wheeled herself out onto the floor to work with her students, she appeared to leave all good sense behind. She became a kind of eccentric Merry Andrew, sliding into an overly ripe, emotion laden dialogue so rich in flowery adjectives as to seem condescending. To Wilhelmina, it was unbecoming. It didn't make sense, nor appear to be sound teaching practice - though clearly no one else felt the same.

In Leonora's presence, everyone was always so much more spirited and agreeable. Even her condescending repartee brought nothing but blushes and giggles. No one thought wrong of her, not even Simon, even when her comments belied the fact that he was a boy and not a girl. It all seemed rather odd, yet she had come to expect as much from Simon. He never spoke in defense of himself. He simply lowered his eyes, and sighed.

She couldn't confess to understanding his responses any more than she understood why Leonora behaved as she did. However, there was something about his sigh that was reminiscently familiar to her. It was at night when she dreamt those recurring dreams where she found herself trying to follow Alyssa into the dark of the alley. She'd walk endlessly toward her but the distance between them never diminished, no matter how hard she tried. Then she'd awaken and, like Simon, she was left to acquiesce to her unrequited desire - and she too would sigh.

In the end, Wilhelmina chose not to say anything to Leonora's about her sudden intrusion into the daily affairs of the studio, nor about how she chose to conduct herself. As for Simon, there was nothing more for her to do. It was impossible to determine where his ambitions ended and Leonora's intrusiveness began. Nor could she tell what was in his character to oblige and what was being thrust upon him. All Wilhelmina knew with certainty was that while she was busy refining Simon's dancing technique, Leonora's unsolicited contributions were helping define his persona in ways that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Trying to figure out Leonora and Simon's relationship was beginning to make Wilhelmina's life very complicated indeed. As the weeks passed, however, something else began to complicate things. Wilhelmina was beginning to feel a definite attraction toward Simon and she couldn't deny that her feelings were changing right along with his flowering effeminacy. It wasn't a conscious effort on her part, nor did she necessarily think it was a reasonable way for her to feel. Truthfully, she had never felt attracted to boys at all. She didn't like boys! Boys were obstacles to overcome, to challenge and beat at their own game. Simon represented nothing of that sort, and the logic of feeling as she did about a boy as docile as Simon made no sense to her whatsoever.

She was in a quandary over her feelings toward Simon and it was beginning to cloud her focus, making it harder to know how to respond to him. Nowhere was this more evident than when walking him home Simon wore his dress and bandanna disguise, and - like any public disaster - no one in their path could look the other way.

"Wilhelmina? Can I ask you something?" Simon asked one day as they wove their way through the busy later afternoon sidewalk traffic.

"Hmmm! Yes!"

"Why didn't you like me in Tae Kwon Do class?"

"Hum! Well! You know I don't like boys very much! In Tae Kwon Do all I could think about was killing me a few . . . and, I guess . . . you were there!"

"You like me now?"

"Yes!"

"I'm still a boy, you know!"

Wilhelmina looked down at him, unsure of how to respond, then changed the subject.

"Madam Leonora said she wants you to use more lacquer on your nails this evening. You haven't forgotten?"

"No!"

"And the new Oil of Olay? You've enough for this evening?"

"Yes!"

"Wilhelmina?" Simon asked again for her attention.

"Yes?"

"Will I always have to wear a dress?"

"Why do you ask? Is it a problem for you?"

"I don't know," he said after a moments thought.

"If you don't know, how can it matter?" Wilhelmina replied.

"I guess it doesn't matter then."

She paused to consider his ready acceptance of his circumstance. There was something about his forthrightness and his willingness to agree that inspirited her. As she watched him fastidiously straightening a crease in his skirt she felt the need to tell him more about how she felt.

"It suits you, you know!" she heard herself unexpectedly confess.

"It does?"

"Ah huh! It's kinda hard not to like a boy in a dress, ya'know!"

"Would you like me as much if I didn't wear one?"

"Ahhhh . . perhaps! But honestly, I wouldn't like to wonder!"

Chapter VII The Set Up

In the days that followed, Wilhelmina bought Simon a Yellow Belt to wear with his "Do-bok Gi." It was part of the plan Wilhelmina and Leonora had devised to give Simon more time to spend in dance. The plan was for Simon to tell his mother he had finally earned his Yellow Belt, and that his new status required attending class five days a week from then on. To ward off concerns about added expenses, Simon embellished the lie by adding, ". . . at no additional cost." What he didn't disclose to Eunice, however, was that he had withdrawn from the Tae Kwon Do class just hours before.

Wilhelmina's plan worked, and the additional time began paying dividends immediately. They felt certain that Simon would be ready for the competition and began concentrating on the part of the plan they wanted to keep secret from him.

It was Leonora's idea. She believed that something would have to be done if ever he was to win the acceptance he so desperately needed from his mother. Although Wilhelmina had reservations about the proper time and place, she deferred to Leonora's better judgment because she knew Simon needed their help. Unannounced to Simon, the plan was for Wilhelmina to surreptitiously contact his mother.

Wandering into the cafe where Eunice worked, Wilhelmina sat for a cup of coffee and got to know his mother. She had no intention of revealing the truth about herself, saying only that she didn't live in the area and just happened by. After that, she made it a point to stop by daily for a coffee, always sitting where Eunice could serve her table.

Wilhelmina found Eunice to be a very forthcoming person, always with a warm smile and amiable greeting. Consequently, it didn't take her long to start an exchange designed to solicit Eunice's advice. Each day Wilhelmina would manufacture some fictitious personal problem and receive the motherly advice Eunice was happy to give. Then the next day Wilhelmina would return to graciously thank Eunice for her help.

It shouldn't have been difficult to see through Wilhelmina's deceit, but Eunice didn't. She bought into Wilhelmina's lies hook, line and sinker. She was only too glad to help this odd girl dressed in masculine attire and sporting a boy's hair cut. Even if she did find Wilhelmina's appearance unsettling, she also found her likable enough to look forward to her visits. The two were already fast friends when Wilhelmina deployed the final strategy that she hoped would win the approval and acceptance Simon so desperately needed from his mother.

"Eunice? I have this friend with a problem. It's not me, mind you . . but a friend, you understand."

"Is she pregnant?"

"No, no! It's nothing like that. It's that she looks and feels so much differently than her mother. She dresses differently, you see. Not like her mother wants. Her mother looks at the way she dresses and thinks of her as a bad girl, and can't think of her otherwise."

"Oh! I see."

"Ah-hu. You see, this friend of mine loves her mother and wants her to understand, and to be her friend . . . before she loses hope altogether!"

"I see!" Eunice replied, now utterly convinced that the friend in question is actually Wilhelmina.

"And your . . . friend! She can't change the way she is just to suit her mother?"

"Exactly!

The problem is, my friend doesn't know what to do. There is nothing I can do for her, so I'm asking if you can think of any way to get the mother to accept her daughter for who she really is?"

"Hmmmm!" Eunice mused while wiping clean the table cloth for the fifth time. "I think it is maybe the mother who has the problem, not your . . . friend!"

"How so?"

"A mother should love her child no matter who she is or how she dresses. That's all we can do for our children, to be there to love and support them when they need us the most."

"What would you suggest my friend do?"

"Well, if I were your friend I would find someone to intervene for her . . . like a psychologist, or a clergyman, or someone her mother respects. As soon as possible! I think this is something she should do before losing all hope!"

"That's a wonderful idea. I'm going to ask her and see what she says about that. Thanks for your help. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Eunice was only too pleased to help in any way she could, and told her as much. Then too, if she had known Wilhelmina would be returning the next day to ask for her help, she probably wouldn't have offered. She had an unsettling feeling about it all as she listened to Wilhelmina tell her there was no one who could take issue with her friend's mother, nor any hope of getting her mother to a psychologist, nor a church. With nowhere to turn, a seemingly desperate Wilhelmina then asked if Eunice could speak with her friend's mother for her.

Again believing that the girl under discussion was really Wilhelmina, Eunice saw the offer as an invitation to help mediate a mother-daughter conflict over her mode of dress. Her first reaction was not to become involved, but after hearing Wilhelmina's lament over what might happen to her friend as a consequence, she agreed. Wilhelmina thanked her for taking the time to help and promised to arrange for a meeting with the fictitious Mrs. Brown at the most convenient time.

"I just know my friend wishes she had a mother as accepting and caring as you!" she said in closing.

Chapter VIII The Confrontation

The day of the competition was upon them at long last. The last day of rehearsals went so well that both Wilhelmina and Leonora thought the troupe ripe for success. If they didn't win, they certainly would be no less deserving. Wilhelmina was very proud of them all, especially for her Simon. To see him dance among the group of twirling fairies was to see splendor undaunted by nature and unrestrained by desire. With the competition now upon them, Wilhelmina and Leonora sat over a cup of tea to review their plans for that momentous day.

Like the unfolding of a plot in some Shakespearean drama, they touted the parts they would play. Leonora would accompany the class to the Performing Arts Center and ready the troupe with makeup and dress for their performance. Wilhelmina would in turn take a taxi to Simon's home, where she had arranged to pick up Eunice on her only day off from work. All was prearranged. Simon would tell his mother he was going to a Tae Kwon Do event to clear the way for him to attend the competition. Then with Simon gone for the day, Eunice would have the time to meet with the fictitious Mrs. Brown. As for other details about the meeting, all she told Eunice was that the meeting would take place at the Center for the Performing Arts.

At 9:00 AM sharp Eunice saw the taxi pull up before her tenement from her family room window. Dressed in her best Sunday dress, her hair nicely set and makeup suited for a formal occasion, she grabbed her purse and her gloves to meet Wilhelmina at the door. Wilhelmina wore a white suit, replete with wide lapel, cufflinked sleeves and a fashionable black tie. With her slicked back pompadour, protracted sideburns and her white suede shoes, she was the vision of the suave masculinity she wished to portray. To look at her, Eunice thought to appreciate her mother's anguish and believed the task before her an impossible one.

They arrived at the center with just enough time for Wilhelmina to seat Eunice in the two reserved theater seats. She explained that as it would take her awhile to locate Mrs. Brown, Eunice could watch the stage performances until her return. Wilhelmina departed, leaving Eunice alone in the crowded theater to wonder how she had ever become involved in such a strange affair. She puzzled over Wilhelmina's behavior and wondered how she was expected her to have a private conversation with Mrs. Brown in the middle of a crowded theater?

"Kids! What is one to do?" she thought to herself as she settled in to watch the curtains drawn on the first performance. On the seat beside her was a program which she picked up to see what she would be watching. A dozen acts appeared on the program, with the first being:

----------------- 1: Carmen's House of Dance. Act III: Swan Lake

"The Black Swan"

Performers:

. . . followed by a listing of the performing artistes in the troupe. -----------------

Wilhelmina made her way back stage to the dressing room assigned to her troupe. Amid all the excited chatter, the nervous fidgeting and tension she found Leonora with the troupe. Lined up before her wheelchair, the students anxiously awaited the final adjustment to their makeup. All in a row stood her exquisitely outfitted fairies with coiffure uniformly styled, and crowned with the most delicate flower and lace tiaras. There she saw Simon in his ruffle tutu and fairy wings, eyes downcast, sorrow written upon his face. After Leonora's artful application of lipstick to his lips, pencil to his brow, rouge to his cheeks and mascara to his extended lashes, he truly looked the lovely Miss - only in despair.

"Now compress your lips on the tissue, Simon" Leonora directed as she placed a neatly folded tissue between his freshly painted red lips.

"There, my little fairy", she added as she unfolded the tissue before his startled eyes to show him the perfectly formed red impression. "See, no difference. Your lips are just as pretty as the other girls."

Wilhelmina stood behind him and placed her hands upon his shoulders. He turned around to face her, his head downcast, his shoulders slumped, his wand hanging motionless at his side. The air about him was deluged with a rich, fragrant perfume, his hair was sculpted and coquetishly crowned. Raising his chin she could see a sheen of moisture building in his eyes, and told him he must not cry.

"Chin up, Simon! I think you look great."

"I look like a sissy!"

"No! You look like a dancer. The dancer you want to become. A dancer who Madam Leonora and I, and all your classmates are counting on to carry us through the day. You can't disappoint us now. I know what a great dancer you can yet become. It makes no difference how you look. A dancer's heart is not worn on his clothes. It shines in the spirit and devotion to his craft. Now, Simon! I want you to smile, turn, and tell your fellow dancers that you shall put on the performance of a lifetime for them, your admiring audience and yourself."

Wilhelmina made her speech with all the passion and conviction that one would expect from so talented an artisan as she. Her words fell upon Simon's heart as he began to realize for the first time what being a performer was all about. He suddenly beamed broadly up at her, then turned to face his compatriots and made his heartfelt address. Everyone applauded and girlish gaiety engulfed the little troupe as they gathered about to hug him, one and all. Then came the knock upon the dressing room door to ready them for their performance.

"Five minutes girls. Break a leg!"

Wilhelmina returned to her seat beside Eunice just as the lights dimmed and the curtains parted. Eunice thought to ask her why the mysterious Mrs. Brown had not returned with her, but decided to hold her tongue when Wilhelmina "shsssss'ed" her to be quiet. Besides, she saw nothing wrong in sitting through another performance, and again picked up the program to see what Wilhelmina was so intent upon watching.

Now, how the program listing came to read as it did, Wilhelmina was never quite sure. Leonora insists to this day that the contestant names she supplied the committee were exactly as Wilhelmina had given her. But whether by accident, or by Leonora's devilish sleight of hand, the world would forever come to know Simon by the name cast in the printing of that program:

12: Leonora's Studio of Dreams Act II Sleeping Beauty:

"The Rose Garden" Performers:

Princess Aurora: Miss Simone Gray

Carabosse: Miss Dawn DeWinter

Rose Fairies:

Miss Ann Browning

Miss Caitlin Rose

Miss Emily Ross

Miss Janet Stickney

Miss Rosaline Maxwell

Woodland Fairies:

Miss Kelly Ann Rogers

Miss Karen Elizabeth

Miss Jacki Pett

Miss Gerty Walker

Miss Julia Thomas

At first, the performance seemed to Eunice like all the others she had seen. It seemed just another troupe of dancers and a performance unfolding to the Tchaikowski melody. Perhaps a bit better then most she thought, but nothing special. Except perhaps the vision of one particularly graceful girl facing the audience majestically posed in arabesque. She could see a contented smile upon the girl's face as her movements graced the stage. The moment was brief, but enough for her to capture the girls gaze before she spun off into a triple pirouette. Eunice found her eyes, her face, her person haunting in their familiarity. She felt as though some old reminiscence was trying to find its way from the recesses of her memories. She felt as if she knew this girl, who danced as if in the clouds, jumping and twirling, seemingly lighter than air. While she didn't understand her disconcerted feeling, she did know an accomplished performance when she saw one.

The program ended with applause and the young corps de ballet taking their curtsies and bows. The lights again rose and the mistress of ceremonies took her position on stage to announce the results of the competition. With all the talent on stage that day it would be a bit much to expect Madam Leonora's troupe to win first prize. That honor went to Crystal's Dance Salon, while the most coveted honor came as a surprise to all.

It is up to us to decide whether this was the results of Katherine's wink and a nod debt repaid, or Simon's sheer determination. Whichever we choose to believe, there was no mistaking a smiling Wilhelmina at his side, leading Simon up on stage to the resounding applause. Simon's excitement soared, his thoughts in disarray as he walked beside her to the announcement of Miss Simone Gray: winner, Best in Performance.

Simon received his award to a standing ovation of the crowd and the glare of countless flash bulbs. So excited was the young virtuoso that when, introduced as Miss Simone, he paid it no notice. Amid the photographers, he beamed with a breathless Wilhelmina now at his side, their picture taken to grace the city papers' entertainment section the next morning. There would also be the framed portrait taken to be placed where all the winners' photos hang in the hallowed halls of the center. Close to where Wilhelmina's picture still hung on display, there would forever be the picture of this year's winner, Miss Simone Gray.

As all this unfolded before her, the undeniable truth disclosed itself to Eunice. With her tear strained face hidden beneath her hands, she sobbed a lament that could scarcely go unnoticed. It was her inability to face the man offering her his kerchief that sent her running from the theater, suffocating in her shame.

Later that day, Leonora and Wilhelmina brought Simon home. The cab driver was happy enough with the extra fee to help Leonora up the stairs in her wheelchair. Then as Simon opened the door to the sounds of his mother's sorrowful weeping, they entered, prepared for the confrontation they knew had to come.

There was name-calling, of course. Wilhelmina didn't take lightly to Eunice calling her a liar, a fraud and a dike! It wasn't until the verbal rampage subsided that Leonora asked Wilhelmina to accompany Simon to his room so he wouldn't hear. Only then did Leonora begin to unveil the unhappy truth before the downtrodden woman.

"Now I've something to say to you, Eunice. It's something I think best that the children not hear. What I am about to tell you is between us, and you'd be wise to hear me out."

The stage thus set, Leonora began describing in detail the ruse Simon had created to cover his true desires to become a ballet dancer. She told Eunice about his dress and bandanna disguise, about his fear of discovery. Leonora blamed Eunice for distancing her son and for making it impossible for Simon to tell her how he felt.

"Your son is a very gifted child. You saw him this evening in expression of the unique skills and marvelous qualities that make him a stand out above all others. He needs you to understand who he is, what he is to become. He needs you to be his mother, not a Judas."

"There you have it," screamed a tearful Eunice. "You say he is uniquely skilled and stands above the rest, but you compare him to a girl. He is a boy, not a girl!"

"Ah, but you are a tough nut!" Leonora bellowed back. "Don't you think I can't see though your game. You think that by denying the truth you'll be rid of us, and the problems with your son . . . but neither your opinion, nor your denial will accomplish anything but to bring you pain. And on that, you can count!"

"Why should I take advice from you?"

"Because I'm older and wiser than you, Eunice! Pay heed to my words. You cannot simply wish things were different. Although you are his mother, I shall not stand by and allow you to destroy Simon."

"Me? Destroy my own son?"

"Yes! He is a boy, but he is a boy who yearns to be a girl! That is his nature, and there is nothing to excuse, no one to blame, nothing you can do but accept it. If you refuse, if you deny the truth, you will cause far greater harm to him than you can possibly imagine. Think of how it might be if he must come to terms with himself without guidance, in the streets of this city. My heavens! The thought is just to ugly to imagine."

"And how am I to stop that from happening, if it is as you say, it's in his nature?"

"Through enlightenment! Celebrate his difference, let him feel free to express himself as he needs to, safely and with your approval. He need not wander the streets in search of himself if he can find what he needs at home."

"Then it's me!" Eunice angrily shouted, loud enough for the whole building to hear. "I'm the bad mother! You want me to carry the guilt!"

"As his mother you will carry what you will regardless of what I say!" Leonora hissed so spitefully that it again brought Eunice to tears - drawing Wilhelmina back into the room to help soothe the woman's torment.

". . . And it is I who must live with the guilt if something goes wrong?" Eunice snapped back at Leonora. "How am I to feel if he gets hurt doing something I encouraged him to do?"

"Eunice, to deny your duty as a mother would cause him, and you, greater harm. You're bound by your duty as a mother to give him acceptance!"

"Accepting a boy that wants to be a girl is not any mother's duty!" Eunice replied.

As we might suspect, Eunice's statement about Simon wanting to be a girl surprised Wilhelmina. It seemed odd that Eunice would say such a thing about her son, and she wanted to ask her where she could have gotten such a strange idea. After all, everyone knew that Simon didn't want to be seen as a sissy- especially by his mother. He might have dressed and acted the part well enough, but he only did it because he wanted to dance, not to become a girl. But feeling the need to push the exchange forward, she instead took the momentary pause to speak out about what Eunice had said to her at the coffee shop.

She reminded her how she had come to accept that it was the fictitious Mrs. Brown who had the problem, not her daughter. That it was Mrs. Brown's inability to accept her daughter's differences that pushed her daughter away. Then she pointed out how the fictitious story was modeled on what Simon had told her, and that if Eunice could come to an understanding of Mrs. Brown's problem than she could come to terms with her own.

Wilhelmina's words quieted Eunice to intermittent sobs. She accepted the offer of a handkerchief from Leonora, then sat back to consider what she had just heard.

"I can't say whether you or I am right. Still it would be foolish to pretend I have the answers. I don't know what I shall do. I simply know that I am not the kind of mother who will turn from her child in his time of need!"

"I know that, Eunice!" Leonora replied. "You're made of stronger stuff. You will do what's best for your child."

"What am I to do? How am I to ever manage? What if I should make a mistake, unknowingly become my own worst enemy?"

The rage gone. Eunice looked at Leonora, then reached out to take the hand's Leonora extended to her. Then as she always did with Simon, Leonora gazed intently into Eunice's eyes and carefully measured the cadence, and sound of her voice.

"Rule one, Eunice. You'll not be on your own. Both Wilhelmina and I love your son dearly. He will continue under our guidance. Rule two. All you need to do is provide love and acceptance. You need not have doubts about how things will go. Simply be there to help him when he needs you at his side."

"And that is an offer I should be happy to accept after all that has already happened. How could you ask me to relinquish responsibility for what happens to my son?"

"I'm not asking you to relinquish responsibility. I'm asking that you not deny your responsibility. What I am saying is that you need not worry, and that we are here to help. You are his mother and your word is absolute. You will be kept advised and no one shall counsel your son without your consent. Is that acceptable, Eunice?"

"Well! I'm not saying I am buying into any of this, mind you, but if I should decide to allow him to continue with ballet, I will be kept advised?"

"Always! You can expect to hear from me every night. Over tea, we can get to know each other and discuss your son. If that is all right with you, Eunice?"

"Well . . . until I can decide on the best course to take, that sounds reasonable enough. That is, for now! If Simon wants to continue ballet, I guess nothing worse could come of it."

With everything agreed upon, Wilhelmina escorted Simon back to the living room where mother and son ran to each other and embraced. While Eunice held her son to her breast, she asked him the question that could no longer go unspoken. And with Simon's arms clutching his mother ever so tightly, he joyfully whispered his "YES."

The sage continues in Part III -----