Tours battement soutenu

Short Story

“Tendu – relevée - Tendu – relevée…” It was the beginning of the class and the first step was at the barre.

The students lifted their right foot, held it up, and put it down. Leotards glowed and shoes lifted and fell in unison. The teacher looked over each student from top to bottom occasionally making corrections. There were no compliments past the lips of the teacher, but every student expected that because he was a strict teacher to the final exit.

“Gertrude, please do not dispatch the step.”

Gertrude just nodded and continued the movement.

The first thing that you would notice about him was that he was all short and lean, but when one starts as a dancer and then becomes a teacher, this is relatively expected. The second thing that you would notice about him is that he was in his 60s. but despite that age, he held on to his faculties and his eyes were extremely sharp. But then his telephone rang on the chair that he provided for all of the things that he didn’t need when teaching class: code, a long woolen scarf, and a bag that was Brown, droopy, and outsized. On the floor was a large coffee which was only about half full. This was the way that Vincent wanted things and for 15 years he answered to no one. The four mirrored walls were his domain.

“Take five minutes.” He did not know who would be calling him because most of the people who were on his speed dial knew that calling him when he was teaching was clever. To die in a most visceral way.

“Yes, Vincent Barrow. How may I help you?” What are you doing to me when I am teaching?

“I know you must be busy so could you at me at The Kartlal on Tremont Street at six? My name is Liam Alessandro.”

At least he was precise.

“I may be a few minutes late is that all right?”

“Of course, I will have one of your friends there and he would rather like to see you.” But before Vincent could ask who it was the phone went off. Well,s that was very odd.

He returned to teaching classes, got everything that he needed, and went to the garage for his Mini. It was not the most stylish model of car, but it would have to do.

On the passenger side included all of his belongings then went over to the driver’s side and went for the exit. He stopped to pay the amount to a real person, which was rather extraordinary, and again he looked up and down at the attendant as if he were a student.

Going from one place to another in Boston was not hard it was getting into or out of Boston which was the trick. He went from one garage to another, noticed the amounts for how long he could park, and ended over his credit card, again to another real person.

He entered into The Kartal and realized that it was considerably lower down the totem pole than was his usual preference. He briefly thought that he should have carried his bag in with him too bland and with the crowd, but that was very similar to Paradoxe sur le comédien, that is to say, he needed to be more watchful of himself.

He did not see a maître d’ to ask where the person who had invited him could be found but a young man walked up to him and said: “Vincent Barrow? I am Liam d’Alessando.”

“Pleased to meet you.” But in Vincent’s mind, he wondered if he knew this young man someplace. “How did you know who I was?”

“A few years ago, you were particularly helpful in re-organizing the ballet company, and I was one of the people who watched how you did it.”

“I’m so glad my efforts were not completely unhelpful.”

“Please, let me introduce your friend.”

“Yes, of course.”

Going back to a table which was not visible from the entrance there was a man drinking whisky. He was immediately recognized by Vincent.

“Vincent so good to see you again.” He leaped up but did not offer up his hand.

“This is a day I thought would never come.”

“Liam, dear, could you leave us alone for about 10 minutes?” The composer looked backwards at Liam.

Both men waited, it was very clear that both of them thought that Liam was still a boy.

Vincent spoke first: “I didn’t that I did not think that today would ever come.”

“Surprised?”

“That is putting it rather mildly. Does Liam or his handlers know about you? And where did they find you?”

“Liam does not, his handlers probably. But they needed a composer who had worked with the choreographer that they selected. And the choreographer gave them a list with only one name on it.”

“Vous.”

“Comme ça.”

“And I assume that the choreographer does not know?”

“He’s been in France for a very long time. And as for where they found me, as the old saying goes still in the book. We worked together long ago go.”

“The choreographer was not up on the details on this end of the pond.”

“With the French, who’s to say? I keep coming up en dehors.”

“So, what am I doing here?”

“They need a ballet master, and I suggested you.”

“Which means that you want me to keep your secret?”

“Exactement. It is cold dead cash.”

 And that is what they did.

-

It was six months later, and Vincent was teaching the dancers in the class the steps to the new choreography. The piece was called “Roman à clef” and Vincent wondered what the key was.

After he cleared out the dancers and again watering the floor for traction Liam was at the door. Vincent continued wiring the floor and without looking up said: “Yes? How are you Liam today?”

Liam looked faintly nervous and closed the door. It seemed to Vincent that there was something ominous to how he did so, but that might have been just imagination on his part. “The composer has disappeared.”

A lump grew in Vincent's throat. “Did he complete the work?”

“Actually, he did, and also completed the parts for every instrument.”

“Is there a problem?”

“He left you as the person to get in contact with for the check owed him.” And out-flipped an outdated form of payment, because no one actually uses paper checks nowadays. “He was for a specific that it be a check rather than anything else. I don’t know why.”

 Putting down the water,  first Vincent looked over the check like an eagle looking for any defects and then took the check. “I know where it will be accepted. You do understand that the composer has some slight idiosyncrasies to how he works.”

“I did notice that, but many creative sorts have some very odd behavior.”

“He is a bit odder than most.”

“So, you will deliver the check?”

“Of course, I believe that that is really why he wanted me on board for this project. He could have gotten numerous people to do the work but there are not many who can deliver the check.”

“Then we are good then?” Liam was still terrified that something had gone wrong.

“Indeed so.”  Vincent touched Liam on the hand to comfort him because he knew just what  Liam was going through.

And it was at this point that Liam opened the door and found his way out.

In the fluorescent light, Vincent looked at the check. He doubted that Liam knew the depths of the synchronicity. And his idiosyncrasies were not simply ways of doing things but the machinations of a man still producing music.

For you see, the person listed on the check had been dead for 10 years.