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I didn't say anything, but I wasn't so sure. Perhaps the doctors were wrong. Perhaps the fact of being from an immigrant family, unable to allow myself the luxury of being ill, acted with such force upon my unconscious mind that it provoked a natural reaction in my body. Or perhaps it really was a miracle, although that went totally against what my Catholic faith preaches: dance is not a cure.
I remember that, as an adolescent, I had no idea what the right music would sound like, and so I used to put on a black hood and imagine that everything around me had ceased to exist: my spirit would travel to Diedov, to be with those men and women, with my grandfather and his beloved actress. In the silence of my bedroom, I would ask them to teach me to dance, to go beyond my limits, because soon I would be paralyzed forever. The more my body moved, the more brightly the light in my heart shone, and the more I learned--perhaps on my own, perhaps from the ghosts of the past. I even imagined the music they must have listened to during their rituals, and when a friend visited Siberia many years later, I asked him to bring me back some records. To my surprise, one of them was very similar to the music I had imagined would accompany the dancing in Diedov.
It was best to say nothing of all this to Athena; she was easily influenced and, I thought, slightly unstable.
"Perhaps what you're doing is right," was all I said.
We talked again, shortly before her trip to the Middle East. She seemed contented, as if she'd found everything she wanted: love.
"My colleagues at work have formed a group, and they call themselves the Pilgrims of the Vertex. And all thanks to your grandfather."
"All thanks to you, you mean, because you felt the need to share the dance with others. I know you're leaving, but I'd like to thank you for giving another dimension to what I've been doing all these years in trying to spread the light to a few interested people, but always very tentatively, always afraid people might find the whole story ridiculous."
"Do you know what I've learned? That although ecstasy is the ability to stand outside yourself, dance is a way of rising up into space, of discovering new dimensions while still remaining in touch with your body. When you dance, the spiritual world and the real world manage to coexist quite happily. I think classical ballet dancers dance on pointe because they're simultaneously touching the earth and reaching up to the skies."
As far as I can remember, those were her last words to me. During any dance to which we surrender with joy, the brain loses its controlling power, and the heart takes up the reins of the body. Only at that moment does the Vertex appear. As long as we believe in it, of course.
PETER SHERNEY, FORTY-SEVEN, MANAGER OF A BRANCH OF [NAME OF BANK OMITTED] IN HOLLAND PARK, LONDON
I only took on Athena because her family was one of our most important customers; after all, the world revolves around mutual interests. She seemed a very restless person, and so I gave her a dull clerical post, hoping that she would soon resign. That way, I could tell her father that I'd done my best to help her but without success.
My experience as a manager had taught me to recognize people's states of mind, even if they said nothing. In a management course I attended, we learned that if you wanted to get rid of someone, you should do everything you can to provoke them into rudeness, so that you would then have a perfectly good reason to dismiss them.
I did everything I could to achieve my objective with Athena. She didn't depend on her salary to live and would soon learn how pointless it was: having to get up early, drop her son off at her mother's house, slave away all day at a repetitive job, pick her son up again, go to the supermarket, spend time with her son before putting him to bed, and then, the next day, spend another three hours on public transport, and all for no reason, when there were so many other more interesting ways of filling her days. She grew increasingly irritable, and I felt proud of my strategy. I would get what I wanted. She started complaining about the apartment where she lived, saying that her landlord kept her awake all night, playing really loud music.
Then, suddenly, something changed. At first it was only Athena, but soon it was the whole branch.
How did I notice this change? Well, a group of workers is like a kind of orchestra; a good manager is the conductor, and he knows who is out of tune, who is playing with real commitment, and who is simply following the crowd. Athena seemed to be playing her instrument without the least enthusiasm; she seemed distant, never sharing the joys and sadnesses of her personal life with her colleagues, letting it be known that, when she left work, her free time was entirely taken up with looking after her son. Then, suddenly, she became more relaxed, more communicative, telling anyone who would listen that she had discovered the secret of rejuvenation.
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Rejuvenation, of course, is a magic word. Coming from someone who was barely twenty-one, it sounded pretty ridiculous, and yet other members of the staff believed her and started to ask her for the secret formula.
Her efficiency increased, even though her workload remained unchanged. Her colleagues, who up until then had never exchanged more than a "good morning" or a "good night" with her, started asking her out to lunch. When they came back, they seemed very pleased, and the department's productivity made a giant leap.
I know that people who are in love do affect the environment in which they live, and so I immediately assumed that Athena must have met someone very important in her life.
I asked, and she agreed, adding that she'd never before gone out with a customer, but that, in this case, she'd been unable to refuse. Normally this would have been grounds for immediate dismissal--the bank's rules are clear: personal contact with customers is forbidden. But, by then, I was aware that her behavior had infected almost everyone else. Some of her colleagues started getting together with her after work, and a few of them had, I believe, been to her house.
I had a very dangerous situation on my hands. The young trainee with no previous work experience, who up until then had seemed to veer between shyness and aggression, had become a kind of natural leader among my workers. If I fired her, they would think it was out of jealousy, and I'd lose their respect. If I kept her on, I ran the risk, within a matter of months, of losing control of the group.
I decided to wait a little, but meanwhile, there was a definite increase in the "energy" at the bank (I hate that word energy, because it doesn't really mean anything, unless you're talking about electricity). Anyway, our customers seemed much happier and were starting to recommend other people to come to us. The employees seemed happy too, and even though their workload had doubled, I didn't need to take on any more staff because they were all coping fine.
One day, I received a letter from my superiors. They wanted me to go to Barcelona for a group meeting, so that I could explain my management techniques to them. According to them, I had increased profit without increasing expenditure, and that, of course, is the only thing that interests executives everywhere.
But what techniques?
At least I knew where it had all started, and so I summoned Athena to my office. I complimented her on her excellent productivity levels, and she thanked me with a smile.
I proceeded cautiously, not wishing to be misinterpreted.
"And how's your boyfriend? I've always found that anyone who is loved has more love to give. What does he do?"
"He works for Scotland Yard." [Editor's note: Police investigation department linked to London's Metropolitan Police.]
I preferred not to ask any further questions, but I needed to keep the conversation going and I didn't have much time.
"I've noticed a great change in you and--"
