I arrived at Bev's school about thirty minutes early. The parking lot was filling quickly. I knew I wouldn't be seeing her before the start of the Spring Concert and ballet, so I just wandered through the halls, past her dark classroom, her other world.
The gymnasium was packed. I stood in the back and looked out over the sea of parents and grandparents that filled all of the chairs. It appeared that they all knew each other. And, why would they not?
There were a few empty chairs in the last row, and way off to the side. One teacher came to me and pointed out the few empty chairs. I said that I was fine. I wanted Bev to be able to easily find me.
The kindergarten, first, second, and third grade songs were cute, in a way that only kids of those ages can be. Some were really into the songs. Some, you could tell, were 'just there, because'. The little ones were 'star struck' as they just looked out to the sea of parents, being their first time on-stage.
Each class did two songs. I couldn't tell what the songs were. It didn't matter. At the end of each song there was a loud applause from everyone... even those parents that didn't have kids up there, at the time. It warmed my heart. This was a close-knit community. No wonder Bev had no problems getting cooperation from the moms.
At the end of the last third grade class's song, the one teacher, who appeared to be the main organizer, stood at the edge of the stage, as the curtain had been drawn shut.
"Thank you all for coming to our annual 'Spring Concert'. I want to thank all those that helped in the preparation and organization of the songs, rehearsals, and especially to our talented pianist, Linda Johnson."
I saw an elderly lady at the piano turn and wave to the applause.
"We're going to have a ten minute break, to allow our next performers to get ready. It will be something that I know you all will enjoy."
Ten minutes later, as the crowd settled back down, "This year, we were fortunate to add a new educator to our staff, after the retirement of Mrs. Livingston at the end of last year. She graduated from the University of Iowa and was born and raised, in a town, not far from here, Woodstock. I know that most of the third grade parents know her as their child's teacher, Miss Bev Tallman. It was her idea, and hard work, for the next, and final, performance of the evening."
With that introduction, she exited the stage. The room lights were brought down and the stage curtain was pulled back. The stage was black. Slowly the stage lights were brought up. Everybody let out gasps of surprise. Fourteen little eight and nine year old petite girls were lined up across the stage. Each dressed in their pink tutus and leggings.
The tops were held in place with thin straps, which tied behind their necks and held up the open top that sat about 'mid-chest'. The white leotard-like material hugged their tiny bodies. The skirt portion, stood out horizontally a good twelve inches. The pink leggings adorned their young legs. Each girl had a pink ribbon in her hair and stood there with a smile that could brighten, even the darkest day. Flashbulbs started to go off.
And then, off to the far right of the little girls, was my Bev. In
exactly
the same classic pink tutu. The top was molded to her, now, slightly, flattened chest. However; the soft swells of those underlying firm mounds were more than evident. I was positive that the lady, who did Bev's outfit, added some additional material to hide Bev's nipples, as there was no sign of anything underneath. The material hugged her toned and flat tummy. And, finally, the leggings made it look like her legs went on... and on... and on.
In a few words, "A classic Ballerina".
I saw her, briefly scan the crowd. Looking for me. When our eyes connected, I was rewarded with a huge smile.
She had always been toned and fit in high school. I knew that she had been practicing these movements herself. Stretching as she warmed up, and everything. But, man, she looked good. Maybe, I'll be lucky enough to get her to come through on the comment about me watching her go through her routine... nude.
The girls mirrored Bev's movements. She guided the girls, as they all went through the five classic ballerina positions: first position, second position... fifth position. All the time, the pianist played softly in the background. This was repeated before moving onto a few movements: Arabesque, Battement, and finally the Pirouette. You could see the concentration on each of their young faces. A stumble here. A slight loss of balance there. All, much to the delight of the completely hushed crowd. I couldn't help, but smile as I watched.
Then, the music picked up and they went into a dance routine. They all got into a gentle little run in a circle, their little heads back, arms out to their sides as if they were flying. All beaming with radiant smiles. I tried to look at the little girls to capture their excitement. Their innocence; but, my eyes were focused on Bev's lithe and toned body, as she stood off to the side as the girls did their dance. I was sure that the eyes of 90% of the male audience were focused on the same thing. I was also positive that the fourteen dads were torn between watching their daughters and that graceful beauty, my girlfriend.
The music ends. They all gather in a line across the stage. They followed Bev's movements, as all took the final ballet bow, the Reverence... down on one knee with their little hands up to their chests, their heads down in a graceful bow.
The place erupts in a thunderous applause, as everyone springs to their feet. Flash bulbs from cameras lighting up the whole stage in a sea of flashing light blue. The girls rise up and flash the crowd smiles and beaming eyes as they wave. More flashes. The applause never subsiding.
Bev stood off the side, spread her arm gracefully out toward the little ballerinas and had them take another final bow. Another explosion of flash bulbs. My heart swelled with pride, as a lump formed in my throat. I saw Bev put her hands to her face, hiding her own tears.
Then I watched as she raised her hand to quiet the jubilant crowd.
"We all want to thank you for that. It's been fun. All of the girls worked really hard. It was satisfying to watch their improvement day by day. I want to especially thank Judy Taylor and Lynn Winston for all of the time and effort that they put in measuring and sewing the outfits for these wonderful girls," another loud applause, "I also want to thank my colleagues for their support, and encouragement, in this first ballet. And to Linda Johnson for her time, and effort in coming up with just the right music selections. Thank you all. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart."
Another round of applause.
I stood back, as everybody gathered on the floor, in front of the stage. One of the mothers wanted a picture of Bev and her daughter. Bev got down on her knees next to the little girl, putting her face at the same level as the beaming girl. Her arm around her little waist. And that set the precedence for the next twenty minutes, or so. Not all of the ballerina mothers thought to bring cameras, so those that did, took pictures. They told Bev that she would get copies.
Once that was over, I got a huge hug. My hands found her tiny waist. A flash. One of the moms had caught us. She smiled back. Taking the hint, we leaned cheek-to-cheek. Each of us beamed a smile as her camera flashed again.
"I'll make sure that you get a copy of that. On second thought, two copies," she grinned and then she was off.
"I'm so glad you made it. It warmed my heart to see you. I'm glad you stood in the back. It made it easy to find you," a quick kiss to my cheek, "Are you going back tonight?"
"No. I brought a change of clothes and my bathroom stuff."
"I was hoping that you would," she grinned, "In that case, everybody is heading out to the bar to unwind. Do you want to go?"
"Yeah, I do. We have lots of time, and it's still early. We can get something to eat too."
It was kind of a cool reception when we arrived. Looking back at it, I think those teachers that had worked with their students on the concert part were a bit miffed at the attention and accolades that Bev received at the end of the evening, for the ballet portion. I hoped that there weren't going to be any lingering aftereffects.
