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Mike:Jesus, do you never keep up? It’s Giselle, dumb ass!
Me:A classic, but it never gets old.
Mike:True that. It’s also a debut performance for Nia Brown in the lead role. Remember she caught your eye as the courtesan last time you came to see Manon.
Me:Oh right. Yeah, I liked her a lot. Looking forward to it.
Mike:Gotta go. See you later.
Me:Later.
I drop my communicator on to the side table by my bed and begin to undress. As I do, I think about Melinda and how she’s getting on in Krovatia. The latest message from her came this morning, recorded on the day of her arrival there. She showed me her new house and told me about some weird ceremony with a priest who somehow transformed the personality of her colleague, Avery. I sent her a message back, but I’m very conscious of the fact she won’t be receiving it for at least another two weeks. I wonder what has been happening in her life over there all this time.
I head into the shower and take a quick wash, thinking about the other message I received today, this one from my good friend Pravol, the Venorian I got to know well in the six months he lived on Earth. After my last chat with Peyton Miller, I had contacted him, asking for help in my quest to get to Krovatia, emphasizing the fact that I needed to be with my mate—knowing how this would chime with him. His response arrived today.
Nodding gravely into his communicator screen, he said, “Hello Wyatt. As always it is a pleasure to hear from you. I am glad you are well and thank you for your enquiries into my wellbeing and Treylor’s. We are both well thank you, and settled into our new home in Krovatia. I was also glad to hear of your wish to join Melinda here. It has troubled me greatly to see two mates such as yourselves separated, and I will of course do anything in my power to help you re-unite. I will personally forward your application for permission to enter Krovatia to the authorities here, and vouch for you. Perhaps you could write a letter explaining your purpose, and I will see to it that it gets to the right people.”
He then smiled and continued, “As for the matter of transport, I also have good news. Martha, Krantor’s mate, is on her way to Earth to visit her ailing grandfather there. She is travelling on one of our cargo ships—commanded by Treylor’s cousin Rivlor. I believe Rivlor could assist in transporting you on her ship to Krovatia for a fair price which you will have to negotiate with her. I have taken the liberty to inform Rivlor that you are wishing to use her ship for transport and to share your contact details with her, so she should be in touch soon. I have also sent a communication to Martha, explaining your situation and asking if she can help put in a good word for you too.”
He frowns then, looking uncomfortable. “However, Wyatt, I am uneasy about withholding this information from Melinda. I urge you to contact her and let her know your intentions. It would make me much easier in my mind if she was aware of all that you are planning. Please do let her know. I bid you farewell my friend, and await your response.”
Pravol is right. I shouldn’t just spring on Mel unawares. I do need to tell her. However, I want to get all my ducks in a row first.
My heart quickens at the thought of what this could all mean. I could be on my way to Krovatia within a few weeks. The clock has begun ticking, with very little time left to overcome my fear of flying. On top of all that, I need to come up with a plan for what I’m going to do over there. My second appointment with Dwight tomorrow takes on a whole new dimension. We’re no longer in the realm of possibilities but of reality.
Shit or get off the pot.
The time for indecision is over. I’m doing this.
???
I arrive at the theater just as the curtain goes up, and slip into the private box where Mike is already sitting.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey,” he smiles. “Nearly gave you up for lost.”
“Sorry.”
Just then, the orchestra begins playing, and I sit back to enjoy the performance. Giselle is the story of a poor peasant girl who falls in love with a duke who masquerades as an ordinary peasant, hiding his true identity and the fact he’s got a fiancée. Albrecht, the duke, has his fun and woos innocent Giselle, only for things to go wrong when he’s unmasked for who he really is. This is when things get dramatic. Poor Giselle goes mad with grief, confronting the cheating, lying Albrecht, and eventually stabs herself with his sword. I’ve seen this ballet before, but Nia Brown, playing the role of Giselle, infuses it with renewed meaning. I watch spellbound as she goes from a sweet, trusting girl falling in love with the swashbuckling, handsome stranger, to a woman possessed with rage and madness as she confronts the man who’s betrayed her.
I lean over to whisper in Mike’s ear. “She’s good.”
He smiles smugly, “Yeah.”
The first act comes to an end and the lights come back on in the auditorium. I stand and stretch my arms out. “Shall we go get a drink?”
“You go ahead. I need to go backstage and speak to a few people. I’ll see you back here in the box, and we can catch up later at dinner.”
“No probs.”
I head out of the box, towards the bar area which is already filling up with people. I order a mojito on my communicator and collect it a few moments later. Standing by the bar, I sip on my drink, casually people watching. I love coming to the ballet. It’s one of the art forms that I find the most helpful in getting me out of my head. In my most stressful times at my old job, coming to see the ballet once every month, thanks to my friend Mike, was one of the few times I could forget the ten million and one things on my mind and just immerse myself in the performance.
There’s something magical about the music, the theatrics, the movement of graceful yet powerful bodies, that just gets me every time. And despite this ballet being set long ago in the 19thcentury, telling a quaint, old-fashioned tale about the betrayal of a poor peasant girl, there’s an eternal truth to it about the human condition. Art, at its very best, does that. It transcends all barriers of time, language and race, and gets to the beating heart of who we are as humans. As you watch and experience emotions that you recognize, you realize you are not alone in this lonely world. You feel connected. That is what truly great art can do to you.
I came tonight, in a turmoil over what I need to do over the coming few days. And yet here I am now, calm and content, observing a parade of people chatter excitedly about the performance, exclaiming over how good the lead dancer was as Giselle and how much they enjoyed the first act. I feel a sense of connection with all these people who sat and experienced with me that marvellous piece of art. I can only compare it to that feeling you get in a rock concert when the band plays an anthem everyone sings along to, or a ballad that has all the gathered swaying to, holding up their communicators in lamp mode and creating a sea of lights. It’s that great feeling of togetherness.
If I were asked to explain to an alien from outer space who we are as humans, then I would point to these great art forms. I would say, “Come and watch Ricky Charles perform ‘One Day’ in front of a live audience or come see a performance of Giselle, and then you will know what it is to be human.”
