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“What do you mean?”
“There’s eight of us. We have a tribe. He can’t control us the way he wants to because of it. He can’t tell me I have to get involved in the business when Gaspino and Goliath are there to have my back. He can’t tell Giovani he’s never going to be as good a Don as he is, when Gianni and Guido are there to say otherwise. And sure as hell he can’t say you’re not enough because you’re a girl when all seven of us love you like crazy.”
He ruffled my hair – something he knows I hate – and smiled down at me. It was one of those brilliant, all-teeth smiles that could make any bad day instantly feel so much better.
“You know, I’m gladBabbopicked you to come here with me. You’re the fun one.”
“That’s right.”
“You and Gaspino, of course.”
“He is not funnier than me.”
“Umm, he is. Just a little bit.”
Garon shook his head before checking his watch. “Shut up and get moving, Grazia. You have that dance class in an hour.”
“Oh, shit! I forgot.”
~~~
The Scala Ballet Academy was not located in the big opera house that everyone knew, but a few doors down, in an equally impressive old building that a few hundred years ago served as a nobleman’s home. Now it was a vast ground for rehearsal rooms and all kind of facilities for some of the best dancers in the world. Well, dancers in training. The real names were traveling around the world right now, dancing on all the stages of the world before returning home for the autumn season.
Rosa Vitale has arranged for me to take some classes and sit in on a few rehearsals, so I could see how things work around here. I have to give props to Miss Rosa, the past few days were incredible. It wasn’t just me alone in the class every day, now I was surrounded by people who felt about ballet the way I did. Everyone here understood that the pain of long hours on pointe shoes were worth for the freedom of becoming one with the music. I didn’t make many friends – actually, I didn’t make any – ballerinas aren’t the most warm and welcoming bunch, but just being close made me feel like I belong.
The teachers were good too, each and every one having a very specific set of skills and together shaping some of the most gracious dancers I’ve ever seen. Since I was Rosa Vitale’s protégé, I got to sit down with a few of them and watch them teach. Even if I wasn’t part of the Academy, Rosa’s word weighed heavy in these circles.
It was because of Rosa Vitale that today I was allowed – again – to sit and observe the special neoclassical barre class held by Franklin Walsh. Everyone who knew anything about ballet would recognize that name and get goosebumps hearing it. He was one of the best maestros out there and a few times a year he was invited to select the most promising ballerinas at the Scala Academy and teach them for a few months.
This year’s group was small – and I mean really small – only four girls were in the room jumping and turning at Walsh’s command. I wasn’t allowed to participate, but Mr. Walsh welcomed me to watch in silence for the second time since I came to Milano and it was amazing. The man was smug and always looked just a little disgusted with everyone around him, but he was amazing at his job.
When the class was over – well, better said, when Walsh decided it was over – he clapped his hands a couple of times to dismiss the dancers and walked out of the room without another word.
I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just sat on the floor, in the corner, thinking of where to go next. I guess I wasn’t as relaxed as I thought I was, because one of the four girls came to me. She had a smile on her face and that put me at ease.
“Hello.” She said in broken Italian. “I’m Petra.”
“Hi, Petra. I’m Grazia.”
Petra looked younger, but her dancing was advanced. She was good and to me she looked determined to get better.
“I’ve seen you here in our last class. Why?”
Ok, so she was direct.
“I’m visiting the school so I can decide if I want to apply here.”
“Oh, you get to decide. That’s nice.”
“You didn’t?”
“I’m from a small town in Serbia. Getting into any ballet school would have been a blessing. Getting a scholarship here was a miracle.”
I rose to my feet and looked her up and down. Strong legs that still had grace, perfect posture, and a steel determination in her eyes.
“You got that scholarship because you’re good. Walsh selected you for his special class too. That means something.”
“Oh, I’m very good.” She smiled. “I’m glad to see you’re not one of those spoiled vipers that usually wander the halls around here.”
