Invisible Subjects, we have a problem.

The Blond Duck returns tomorrow, and we haven’t done anything scandalous while she was gone.  All YOU people have done is read her double edition Gift and Twirl segments.  All I’ve done is sleep on Mama Duck’s bosom.  And eat puppy pies, nachos, fried chicken…

You get the picture.

So we must do something exciting.  Everybody meet me tonight at 8 p.m.  We’re going to toilet paper the Blond Duck and Ben’s room.

I’ll see you then.  Or else.

For my new Invisible Friends, Twirl is the story of a star-crossed ballerina named Vivi and her handsome cowboy named Wade, who have stumbled into a international ballet scandal and a old Texas legend that might possibly lead to riches! To catch up in the archives, go to the Never Ending Stories Tab at the top of this site.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Dearest Wade,

I’m going crazy without you.  Things here are simply terrible.  I found out the most horrible secret about my mother today…it’s too awful to type.  I’ll have to tell you whenever I see you next.

Even typing those words hurts my heart.  I hate being here without you.  Every night, I cry myself to sleep and dream of being back with you, driving down the back roads of the Hill Country and dancing all night long.  Your last kiss still tingles on my lips, and sometimes I wake up feeling your hand on mine.  But it’s just a dream.  It’s always just a dream.

Sometimes, I pretend I’m dreaming.  I pretend that these classes are an awful nightmare and the days are something out of a horrible movie, like a warped Groundhog Day. I dream that I’m telling off Mrs. Angelson and my father, and you walk in and whisk me away.  And then we find the treasure and drive off into the sunset to live happily ever after.  Perhaps I’ve simply been watching too many late night Westerns.  I only watch because they remind me of you.

I wish you would come in the next minute.  I hope you come tomorrow to take me away from all this madness and deceit.  But whenever you do come, I can’t wait.  Until I’m with you, dancing will hold no joy for me.  And weeks without joy wears on the soul, just as much as days without you are a lifetime of sorrow.

Love,

Vivi

——————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Vivi kept her lips pressed together as they hurried down to the lobby, walked several blocks and ducked into the corner of a dark cafe with tall, dark waiters with foreign accents.  Her mother murmured an order for both of them and the waiter scurried away.

Her mother looked at her and Vivi raised an eyebrow.  “I want to know,” she said simply.

Her mother sighed and tore a long strand of the paper napkin off in her hands.  “I was stupid,” she said, softly.  “So stupid.”

Vivi said nothing.  She leaned back and crossed her arms.  Twisting the napkin strand into a tiny ball, her mother continued her tale.

“When I was fourteen, I began to model.  I entered a contest I saw out of a magazine and won a chance to fly to New York and meet with an agency.  Even though I wasn’t as tall as they wanted, they said they saw something in me and signed me up.  My mother was thrilled.  She had always wanted to be a star.  But when she became pregnant with me, it ruined her career.  She never got over it, and remained very bitter.  She’s still bitter today, in fact.”

“So when I was fourteen, I became a whole new person,” her mother continued.  “I went from being Susan Elwood to Tracy Taylor.  I posed for all the big department stores, swimsuit calenders, magazines, walked runways–you name it, I was there.  When I was sixteen, my manager recommended I get legal emancipation from my parents. My dad was an alcoholic and my mom was still bitter–even though she thrived on my success, it reminded her of her own lost dreams.  So she spent my money buying fancy cars, vacation homes, airplane rides for vacations I never went on–if she had continued, she would have drained me for life.  I filed for emancipation, and neither of my parents ever spoke to me again.  None of their relatives will either.”

She looked at Vivi.  Vivi nodded, and her mother continued.

“By seventeen, I was rich, successful and on top of the world.  And I had no one to share it with.  I had no family and my friends were only my friends because of who I was.  Everyone loved me, but no one loved me. They all adored Tracy Taylor.  They didn’t know about Susan, and they didn’t care about her.”

“The years went by and as my modeling years petered out, I turned to television and movies.  I became involved with a handsome director, who promised me the world.  I fell head over heels for him.  He was kind and funny, and he treated me like a queen.”

Vivi’s eyebrow jumped at the edge in her mother’s voice.  “What happened?” she asked.

“I became pregnant.”  Her mother smiled sadly, taking Vivi’s hand.  “With you.”

Vivi fell back in her chair, her head spinning.  “So my dad isn’t my dad?”

Her mother shook her head.  “No.”

“Does my real dad even know I exist?” Vivi demanded.

Her mother nodded, her eyes heavy with sorrow.  “Yes.  When I told him I was pregnant, he went into a rage.  He shouted that he was a married man, that he wasn’t going to leave his family for some cheap actress slut.  I burst into tears, yelling that I’d go to the press and ruin him, ruin everything for him. You see, I thought I finally had a family again.  And he was ruining everything.   I threatened to sue him, reminding him he had promised me he was divorced and even had showed me papers.”

Vivi didn’t dare breathe as she listened to the tale.

“He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me close to him, his hands tightening around my throat.  He said, “If you ever say a word, Tracy, to anyone or anything, I’ll kill you.  I’ll rip the baby out of your stomach and bury you both  where they’ll never find you.  And if you ever try to work in Hollywood again, I’ll tell everyone what a conniving slut you are.”

“I was so scared, I packed my bags and flew to Europe.  I worked over there for awhile in theater, until I got so big no one would hire me on.  It was there that I met Victor.  He wooed me, making me feel beautiful and like the best woman on the planet.  After I had you, he took you on as his own daughter.  I was so foolish.  All I could think of was my own happiness over having a family.  I didn’t recognize the warning signs.”

“What warning signs?” Vivi asked.  The waiter sat their plates in front of them, but Vivi didn’t even glance at her food.  Her eyes stayed locked on her mother, her chest tighter with every breath.

“His anger, his rages, the way he would stay out all night,” her mother replied, twirling a French Fry nervously between her fingers.  “One night, he came to me in a panic.  He had done something terrible, he said.  We would have to leave quickly for someplace no one knew us.

“I told him I wouldn’t do it.  I was tired of hiding, tired of pretending to be Tracy instead of Susan.  Enraged, he grabbed my wrist and threatened me.  He threatened to take you away to where I would never see you again, if I didn’t change and leave with him.  He wanted you to be a dancer, to avenge the shame he had endured.  I knew it was terrible, but I was so scared.  I was so scared he’d take you, or worse… So I changed.  I became Jennifer, though he never changed his name or yours.   I dyed my hair, learned how to walk and talk differently and wore colored contacts.  We flew to New York and lived under the radar for a few years, then eventually moved here when your talent began to get out.  That’s why we never went out much as a family–I was the public face of the family, telling people your father was an artistic recluse.  They could accept that.”

“But what had he done?”  Vivi asked.  “What was so terrible?”

Her mother shook her head, biting into her sandwich.  “I don’t know,” she whispered unhappily.  “I’ve never been able to find out.  And frankly, I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted to know, truly.  But I know it has to do with Mrs. Angelson.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Dearest Vivi,

I’m so sorry to hear that you’re having a rough time.  And I’m sorry you learned things about your parents you wish you hadn’t.  It’s always hard when our parents are real people, rather than the perfect individuals we imagine them to be.

I heard our song today at the dancehall when I was helping Hilda.  The one we first danced to that night that you strode in the dancehall.  I remember how you took my breath away.  The sunlight glinting off your reddish-gold hair, that sparkle in your green eyes.  Every step you took was so graceful, so light.  I felt like such a lug walking over to you, so awkward and dull.  I still can’t believe you like me as much as I like you.

I found a letter today that might help us in our search.  I’ll bring it down when I come.  I got my truck all fixed up–say the word, and I’ll be there.

Love,

Wade

Dearest Wade,

Word.

Love,

Vivi

***

The dance studio was empty, with a single lonely lamp burning.  Stretching at the barre, Vivi let the hot tears fall against her arm.  She leaned her head against the hard wood wall and sobbed in the silence.

“Now, that’s not the Vivi I know.  The Vivi I know would be beating someone up right now.”

Sucking in her breath, Vivi whirled around.  “Susanna!”

“Vivi!”  Susanna rushed forward, throwing her arms around her friend.  “My dad brought me a few days early.  And he talked to the school, so I could stay here until your performance.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”  Vivi wiped her cheeks with her hand, beaming.  “Wade said he was coming too, in a few days.  I can’t wait.”

“Oh good.”  Susanna clapped her hands.  “So you’re ok?”

“No.”  Vivi shook her head, letting out a half-laugh, half sob.  “Every inch of my body hurts from the endless practice and it feels like my soul has been through the weedeater.  I’ve got so much to tell you.”

“Well then, spill, girl.”  Susanna grabbed Vivi’s hands and pulled her on the floor, just as she had during their dance camp years as children.  “Because I’ve got some juicy stuff for you, about your Dad and Mrs. Angelson.  You’re going to freak.”

To be continued…

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Next week I’m back with more whimsical fun, recipes and stories! Stay tuned!

More