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The Magic of Christmas

ClaraMarie

Nervous energy whizzed through me like the blowing snowflakes outside. I wanted this role and I wanted it bad.

I was freaking perfect for it. Who better to play a chubby rosy-cheeked life-sized dancing dolly than a chubby rosy-cheeked plus-sized ballerina?

I knew this choreography. I could provide my own clothes, so the costume department didn't have to get all outraged over having to make one for me on short notice, since I didn’t fit into anything they had in the racks already. This was one of the few dances Frau Hoffman's studio had auditions for without a partner, and none of the guys would even consider lifting my right thigh, much less all of me. Most importantly, I could perform this part tonight.

I didn't exactly have the evening free. I was supposed to be at my family's annual Christmas Eve party. If I scored the part of the girl soldier Vivandiere, I would still be there, only as a performer instead of a hostess. Wouldn't that surprise the shit out of my stupid brother. He'd probably have an aneurism if he even knew I was here trying out anyway. The dance performance was supposed to be a surprise for my family and our guests, but Drosselmeyer had given me a whole bevy of clues so that I would be here for the audition this morning.

"Group three, you're up. Let's go ladies." Frau Hoffman clapped her hands and the five of us made our way to the center of the room for our turn.

I tried to take the spot in front, but Louisa gently pushed me aside, with a whisper. "Not this time Clara."

I rolled my eyes and took up the place beside her just to piss her off. She and I had been dancing together since we were little kids. She was the beautiful one with the ballerina body, the one who got cast in all the parts. I didn't have it in me to hate her. Louisa wasn't some typical mean girl, and we were sort of friends. She tried to be kind to me, in her own way, when most other dancers wouldn't give me the time of day.

But when it came down to it, she wasn't going to let me get in her way. Especially now that I had a shot. She'd get a role for sure, probably as the toy ballerina. I rarely even got to be a back-up dancer. Not this time. I was going to get the part of the dancing Vivandiere doll if it killed me.

When it was my turn, I gave the small pendant I always wore, a squeeze sending up a wish to my long dead mother for a little luck from above.

The music started up and I bowed my head. The tinny notes that sounded just like a music box pinged from the speakers and I pasted the perfect fake dolly smile on my face. My arms rose as if controlled by puppet strings and my legs and feet followed. I fondued, arabesqued, and pas de bourréed just as good or better than the other girls, throwing myself into the role of a wind-up come-to-life dancing doll until the music stopped and the other dancers politely clapped.

My heart beat with the exhilaration of getting to dance and I couldn't help but smile for real this time. I totally nailed that audition. Louisa knew it too if her irritated pout was any indication. Of course, she quickly covered it with a smile and a pat on the back for me. Even Frau Hoffman gave me an approving nod as I padded off the floor and back to my seat.

"Parts will be posted within the hour. We'll start rehearsals at ten o'clock sharp and perform this evening at seven. If your name is on that list, expect to be here all day. I don't want any last-minute excuses about having to spend time with your family on Christmas Eve. This is paid work people. Don't accept if you can't fulfill the responsibilities of the role."

No one said a word, probably because each dancer chosen for tonight's performance would be paid more for one hour of work than most made in a month. Nothing but the best in entertainment for the Stahlbaum Christmas party.

Not that we could afford a lick of it.

If I got the part, I’d be doing the family a favor because Fritz certainly wouldn’t hand even a single dollar over to me.

I got my bag of grapes, half a hard-boiled egg, and lemon water out of my bag. If we were going to be here all, day I needed some energy. Before I opened the baggies with the food, I turned my back on the rest of the room. Dancers were weird about food at the best of times. I was weird about it all the time. I'd die before I'd let any of them see me eat.

I'd been called Clara Cow or worse enough times to know better. Didn't matter if I starved myself or ate two large mushroom and sausage pizzas, I pretty much stayed the same weight always and forever. I could dance eight hours straight, sweat buckets and the scale would say the exact same two hundred something pounds like the asshole that it was.

I guess I shouldn't care what I ate or who I ate it in front of, but like a dummy, I did care. I wished that I didn’t but wishes weren't worth diddly squat.

Forty-five minutes later, Frau Hoffman posted the list. Everyone else rushed up in a big mob to check whether they'd gotten a role or not. I stayed where I was, closed my eyes and willed the universe to give me this one chance to prove I was as good a dancer as the rest of them. Just this one time.

Call it my Christmas wish. Miracles could happen and if I believed it hard enough, maybe it would come true for me.

I knew I’d never be a professional ballet dancer, but this wasn’t exactly Swan Lake. These were little vignettes based on fairy stories, just like the ones Drosselmeyer told me and Fritz as young children. I always loved the one about the Vivandiere because she was a strong warrior princess who took no guff from anyone.

When all but five other dancers were gone, I stood, crossed to the list, and ran my finger down the hand-written names.

Ballerina - Louisa

Harlequin - Frania

Soldier -Astrid

Columbine -Daphine

Vivandiere - Marea

I blinked and looked at each role one more time, taking an extra-long stare at the Vivandiere. That was my part. Mine.

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