To the Stars, Isabelle Read online

  Luisa stayed cautious for the next two turns, again doing stuff from the pirate routine. I was just as careful when I added my own moves. I did a few steps from my Waltzing Flowers choreography, but I kept them simple because I was afraid of making a mistake.

  After three consecutive victories, though, Luisa was feeling pretty good about herself. She pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment and then smiled wickedly. Shifting her weight from one leg to another, she began to sway her shoulders and move them up and down.

  “Hey, no fair,” I said. “You’re samba-ing.”

  “The steps can come from any style of dance,” Jackie reminded me.

  Luisa began to move her feet rapidly. If she’d been dancing to real samba music, I probably couldn’t have followed what she did. Her family is Brazilian and her father is a musician, so she’s been dancing the samba all her life. But she had to slow down to the tempo of the pirate tune, so I could see every step she made. She finished with a pirouette.

  And that was her mistake.

  I’d done a bunch of pirouettes in my routine for The Nutcracker, so I was pretty good at them now. After I mimicked Luisa’s samba, I pictured a toy top in my mind as I spun once, twice, three times in near-perfect pirouettes.

  “Isabelle wins,” Jackie announced. “She’s the new captain.”

  Yes! I felt like taking a victory lap around the studio.

  With a shrug, Luisa handed me the baton—the butterfly charm. It was warm from her hand.

  “Really try to think of something new this time, Isabelle,” Jackie urged.

  Safely clutching the baton, I thought for a moment. What would a pirate do? Then I thought of my dad’s favorite old-time pirate movie—so old that it had been filmed in black and white.

  I smiled and struck a pose, standing on one leg while crossing the other in front. With one hand on my hip, I raised the other in a casual salute. Shifting my feet into the position for a jeté, I put up my hands as if I were holding on to a rope. Then I kicked off with all the energy I could muster, leaping into the air.

  Jade always said that leaps were one of my best skills as a dancer. So when I landed, I kicked off again, moving across the studio as if leaping from the deck of one ship to another. I ended by focusing on my other strength: I launched into a few pirouettes as I waved an imaginary sword over my head.

  “Good, Isabelle!” Jackie called, just as Luisa began copying my routine. She did all the moves successfully and finished with a high kick. Luisa was a good leaper, but not as good as me, so I kept the captain’s baton.

  Before we began the next round, though, Jackie had some advice for us. “You’re both holding your breath when you jump,” she pointed out, “and that makes you a little stiff. You need to keep breathing during your jetés.”

  Luisa and I each tried an experimental jump, focusing on our breath, and it did feel easier. I couldn’t believe Jackie had helped me improve one of my strongest moves with such a simple tip! I want to learn everything I can from her, I thought happily as I tried another leap.

  Luisa and I traded the baton back and forth so many times that I lost count. We were both laughing by the time Jackie turned off the music.

  “Let’s take a breather,” she said.

  Luisa leaned forward and rested her hands on her knees. Panting, I glanced at the clock in the studio. I was surprised to see that rehearsal was almost over.

  “That was good,” Jackie said. “I really saw your joy while you danced, girls.” She curved her back as she stretched and then sighed. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

  Neither have I, I realized suddenly. I’d been so nervous before rehearsal started, but now I was having the time of my life. I didn’t want the morning to end!

  As Jackie reattached the butterfly charm to her bag, she said, “That game was a big help to me. Between Mr. Amici’s choreography and your improvs today, I’ve got enough ideas to come up with two good solos for you.”

  I blinked. I thought the improvs had been a warm-up. Was Jackie really going to create routines for us based on our made-up moves?

  Jackie must have seen the confusion on my face, because she said, “A lot of choreographers base their dances on what they see their dancers create and on the moves they do best.”

  That made sense, and it was exciting to think that Jackie was going to use some of the moves we had come up with. It was as if we were her creative partners. “Do you want more?” I asked with a glance toward Luisa. “We could dance another round.”

  Luisa shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “I love your enthusiasm!” Jackie said, laughing. “You’ll need to call on that joyful energy when you perform in the show. Your grand finale really has to wow the audience—to make sure that they have as much fun as you’re having while you dance.”

  I thought about our future audiences—sick children and other patients at hospitals. Suddenly I had an idea.

  As the words started rolling off my tongue, it was hard for me to stop them. “My dad works as an administrator at a hospital, and sometimes I go with him to visit the children’s ward. We take along a ‘fun box’ full of costumes and props so that the kids can dress up,” I said. “Maybe we could get the kids in our audiences involved if we bring along something like that!”

  Jackie’s smile lit up the studio. “Yes, we could turn the whole show into a kind of costume party,” she said, sweeping her palm in an arc through the air. “We’ll call it the ‘Big Hart Party.’ How fun! I knew I could count on you for fresh ideas, Isabelle.”

  “I bet my dad would loan us his box,” I said, pride and excitement swelling in my chest.

  “Yes, and all the performers could distribute props from the box,” said Jackie excitedly. Then she paused. “Hmm. But you’ll all be in different costumes. It’d be nice if we had some visual cue to tie all of you together at the start and maybe at the end.”

  Suddenly I had another brainstorm. “How about capes?” I asked.

  “Yes, I like that! Where would we get so many capes on such short notice, though?” Jackie asked.

  “I could ask my mom to help,” I said. My mom is an amazing seamstress who often helps sew costumes for our dance productions.

  Jackie wrinkled her forehead. “Wait, slow down for a minute. You’re going to need a new costume for the pirate routine, aren’t you?” she asked. “Your mom will most likely be busy enough with that.”

  “We can come up with something and still do the capes,” I promised. “I…I usually help my mom a lot with the designing and sewing.” It felt funny telling Jackie that. I didn’t want her to think I was bragging, but I knew that if we worked together, my mom and I could get the job done.

  “Isabelle is a really talented designer,” Luisa piped up. “She helped design some of the costumes for The Nutcracker.”

  I shifted uncomfortably at Luisa’s praise.

  “Is that right? That’s great to hear, Isabelle, and I do like your cape idea,” Jackie said. “But focus on your costume first, and then we can see about the capes, okay? And as you think about that pirate costume, steer clear of the usual pirate clichés.” She fluttered a hand near her throat. “You know, no frilly shirts or coats with lots of braid.”

  Jackie looked out the window as a new thought occurred to her. “In fact, let’s think outside the box for your character,” she said. “Perhaps you’re not even a pirate at all. Maybe you’re another character inspired by the sea. What do you think?”

  It was Luisa who answered, almost proudly, “Isabelle will come up with something special. She always does.”

  I felt myself stand a little taller then, rising to the challenge.

  When Jackie dismissed us at the end of practice, Luisa and I started to do a reverence—a curtsy done as a way to thank ballet teachers at the end of class. But Jackie waved for us to stop.

  “We’re shipmates now,” she said, holding out her index finger like a sword.

  I stared at it, puzzled, but
then Luisa put her own index finger over Jackie’s finger. “Shipmates,” she repeated.

  I rested my finger on top of theirs. “Shipmates.”

  Jackie’s hand dipped and then rose several times, taking our hands with it, and then we broke apart. I didn’t think any pirate had had an adventure as special as this—it was scary and wonderful and fun, all at the same time.

  As we left the studio, we met the Waltzing Flowers in the hallway. Ms. Hawken must have just let them out, too.

  “So, what’s Jackie like?” Olivia demanded eagerly.

  “She’s really nice,” I said.

  “Well, duh, of course she’s nice,” Renata snapped. She looked envious that we had spent so much time with Jackie. “She organized this tour, after all.”

  “She doesn’t act like a star at all,” Luisa said. “She’s just a regular person.”

  “What did she have you do?” Olivia asked.

  “We played an improv game where we danced like pirates and tried to outdo each other,” I said, grinning at Luisa as I remembered how much fun we’d had.

  “And next week we’ll learn solo routines she’ll create for us based on our own best moves,” Luisa added proudly.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Renata. I wished I had a photo of her face at that moment. She looked as if she had just sucked on a whole basketful of lemons.

  When I walked through our front door a little after noon, I immediately started shouting for my sister. “Jade!” I was bursting with all the great stuff that had just happened, and I wanted to share it with her.

  When she didn’t answer right away, I tried again. She’d had private lessons early this morning, but she should have been back by now. When she still didn’t respond, I yelled, “Mom? Dad?”

  But there was only silence in the house, not even a mew from Tutu.

  I headed into the kitchen. My family led such busy lives that we used the fridge as our bulletin board. That’s when I saw the note:

  We went to the Mall to find inspiration for Jade’s school report. We’ll be back by 1:00 for lunch. Text me when you get home, and remember that Mrs. Ordway is next door if you need her.

  Love, Mom

  There was only one “mall” for Mom, and that was the National Mall. It had nothing to do with shopping. The National Mall was the long grassy area stretching from the Lincoln Memorial to the Capitol Building. The Mall was surrounded by museums, from the National Gallery of Art to the original brick Smithsonian Institution to the Air and Space Museum.

  I pulled out my phone and sent off a quick text to Mom. I felt a little sad that my family had gone without me. But that had been my choice, after all. I was the one who had decided to do the tour.

  The sound of my footsteps in the kitchen brought our curious cat, Tutu, to the doorway. “At least you didn’t desert me,” I said as I scooped her up into my arms. “I had the best day, Tutu. It was like having my own master class with Jackie Sanchez.” A master class is a lesson that a famous artist might give, and I couldn’t think of a more amazing instructor than Jackie.

  Tutu began licking her shoulder.

  “You could at least pretend to listen,” I grumbled.

  I had to work off my extra energy somehow, so I hugged Tutu close to my chest and started to dance a hornpipe around the kitchen, skipping first on one leg and then on the other. For a while, Tutu let me cradle her in my arms, but she quickly got fed up and jumped to the floor.

  With my hands on my hips, I danced after her, hopping along and kicking my feet in the air. At first, Tutu tried to keep a dignified pace down the hallway, her tail pointing straight up like a flag. But the steady thumping finally got to her. Poor Tutu broke into a run toward the living room. My last sight of her was her tail disappearing under the sofa.

  I was feeling very sailor-like as I skipped around the living room, pretending to haul up an anchor cable and climb the riggings of masts. Finally, panting and laughing, I fell onto the sofa.

  My whole body was tired, but dancing for my idol had made me too excited to rest. Even if my arms and legs were finally still, my mind went on racing.

  When my stomach growled, I pulled myself up off the couch and got a banana from the kitchen. I ate it in the living room and started thinking about my costume. Possibilities whirled through my head. I sat up suddenly to reach for my tablet, which lay on the coffee table, and began to sketch out ideas.

  I was still drawing when I heard the front door open. “We’re home,” Dad called.

  “Ahoy from the living room!” I shouted back.

  I heard the rustle of coats as my family hung them up on the hooks by the doorway, and then they trooped into the living room.

  “How’d it—?” Jade began to ask, but I’d already jumped up and grabbed her.

  “It was crazy, crazy fun!” I said as I began to spin her around the room.

  She let me whirl her around for a minute and then put her hands on my shoulders. “Whoa. I can see that,” she said, laughing.

  Mom settled onto the sofa beside Dad. “What happened, honey? Tell us!” she said.

  I let go of Jade and wheeled around to face my parents. “Guess what I’m going to be?” I said mysteriously. But I couldn’t wait to tell them. “I’m going to be a pirate!”

  “Oh, I know the perfect costume for you then,” said Jade. She fluttered her hand excitedly beneath her throat. “A shirt with lots of lace”—she gestured toward a shoulder—“and a coat with shiny gold stuff on the shoulders.”

  I shook my head. “Jackie already told me she wants something different from a normal pirate costume,” I said.

  Jade looked skeptical. “When did you get a chance to talk to her about your outfit?” she asked.

  “I worked with her all morning,” I bragged.

  “Really?” Mom said in amazement.

  “That’s incredible, honey,” said Dad, giving me a high five.

  “She’s already taught me something new,” I said eagerly. “I mean, I thought my jetés were pretty good.”

  “They are,” Jade said confidently.

  “Well, Jackie noticed that I was holding my breath when I jumped,” I said. “It’s such a small thing, but it made a big difference when I tried it again and focused on my breathing.”

  “Huh, I’ve got to remember that,” Jade said thoughtfully.

  I went on, reliving the wonderful morning. “We played this game where Luisa and I had to copy each other’s dance steps and then make up new ones,” I said, explaining all about the improvs and what we each had done to try to win the captain’s baton.

  “Wow,” Jade said, sounding sorry that she hadn’t come with me after all.

  “But that’s not all,” I said, pausing for effect. “Jackie’s going to use some of the moves we made up to create solos for each of us.”

  Jade looked stunned. “She’s choreographing a routine for you?” she said, eyes wide. “Do you know how many people would love to be in your shoes?”

  I remembered Renata’s face as we left the school. I know of one, I thought to myself with a satisfied smile.

  “Hey, maybe Jackie will want to hear this joke,” Dad said, clapping a hand over one eye. “Argh, matey, why did the sailor paint an ‘X’ on his dog?”

  Jade rolled her eyes and frowned at me. “It’s your fault for giving him that joke book for Christmas,” she murmured.

  “Give up yet?” Dad asked with a sly grin.

  I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay, Dad, why did the sailor paint his dog?” I asked.

  “Because ‘X’ marks the Spot,” Dad said, and he began laughing.

  Mom patted Dad on the shoulder. “All right, dear,” she said gently. “That’s your quota of jokes for the day.”

  Dad lowered his hand, disappointed. “I’m just getting started,” he protested.

  Mom held up an index finger. “One,” she said firmly.

  I was eager to tell them more about my session with Jackie Sanchez, but I thought I should be p
olite. “How was the Mall?” I asked.

  “Incredible,” Mom said. “The National Gallery had an exhibit on how dancers have inspired artwork—from cave paintings twelve thousand years old to modern art today.”

  “I would’ve liked to have seen that,” I said, whining just a little.

  “You can’t do everything, honey,” Mom said. “Washington’s like a three-ring circus, with something spectacular going on in each ring—kind of like our lives these days.” She sighed and asked, “So what’s Jackie Sanchez like?”

  “She doesn’t act like a big star at all,” I said, gushing. “And when I told her about Dad’s fun box, she thought it was a great idea. Can we borrow it for the tour, Dad—to make our show feel more like a party for the kids?”

  “Of course,” said Dad, sounding pleased. “You’ll probably want my joke book then, too.”

  “Uh, thanks, but I think I have enough to handle with the dancing,” I said quickly. Then I turned to Mom. “And Mom, can you help me with my costume?”

  She nodded. “As soon as you give me a sketch,” she said.

  “And could I have some fabric?” I asked. “I thought the performers could all wear capes. Jackie loved the idea. I want to bring her a sample next week.”

  “Of course,” Mom said.

  I jumped up. “Could we start now?” I asked eagerly.

  “Take it easy, Isabelle,” Mom said, smiling. “Remember that going too fast leads to mistakes.”

  I’d definitely learned that lesson before. “Right—slow and steady, and I’ll do most of the work,” I promised.

  We went into Mom’s sewing room, where she began to pull material off shelves. “How’s this?” she asked, handing me a bolt of shimmery green cloth.

  I unrolled some of the fabric. I loved how it seemed to pour cool and silky smooth across my palms. “It’s perfect!” I said to Mom. “But there might not be enough for all the capes.”

  “Don’t worry. I know where I can get more,” Mom said. “You cut the material for the sample cape, and I’ll hem it up.” Then she asked, “Have you thought about your own costume yet?”