Chapter 7 - The Stage and the Stumble
The Jefferson Elementary auditorium was packed to capacity. Over four hundred parents, teachers, and community members filled the tiered rows of velvet seats. At the center of the third row sat the panel of five distinguished judges: the town’s arts commissioner, a local gallery owner, the president of the Naperville Historic Society, the high school drama director, and Superintendent Miller.
Backstage, the contestants were lined up in a single-file row.
Madison stood near the front, her oversized pink polyester ballgown shimmering under the harsh stage worklights. Her cheeks were streaked with sweat, and her eyes were darting nervously around the wings. Her mother, Brooke, was standing just past the curtain line, her face pale, frantically mouthing instructions to the little girl: *Smile! Hold your skirt out! Don’t look down!*
Brooke looked like a ghost. Her designer hair was coming loose, and her hands were trembling so violently she couldn’t hold her program steady. Behind her, Frank and Patricia were huddled together in the wings, their faces grim, whispering in panicked, rapid bursts.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mrs. Gable’s voice boomed over the public address system, echoing through the hall. “Welcome to the 34th Annual Jefferson Elementary Creative Arts Showcase and Historical Costume Parade! Tonight, our students have explored the themes of history, imagination, and craftsmanship!”
The crowd erupted into polite, enthusiastic applause.
“Our contestants will present their creations one by one, accompanied by a brief reading of their artistic statement!” Mrs. Gable announced. “First up... representing the Golden Age of Fairy Tales... Miss Madison Van Der Bilt!”
Brooke gave Madison a hard, frantic shove from behind the curtain. “Go! Now! Curtsy like we practiced!”
Madison stumbled slightly as she stepped onto the polished wooden stage. The bright spotlight hit her, and the little girl froze for a fraction of a second, blinded by the glare.
The applause from the audience was generous, led loudly by Frank and Patricia, who stood up in the side aisle, clapping desperately to manufacture enthusiasm.
Madison began her walk toward the center stage marker. But her nerves were shattered. She had witnessed the cruelty in the hallway; she had seen the police officers, the towering silver-haired man, and her mother’s hysterical collapse. As she attempted to execute an elaborate European court curtsy, her left heel caught the excessive crinoline lining of her mass-produced catalog dress.
She gasped. Her arms flailed.
With a loud, sickening *rip*, Madison’s foot tore straight through the cheap nylon hem, and she tumbled forward onto the stage floor, her plastic tiara clattering against the boards and skittering toward the footlights.
A collective gasp rippled through the four hundred parents in the auditorium.
Brooke gasped from the wings, stepping half onto the stage before a stagehand grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the shadows. “Madison! Get up! Get up right now!” Brooke hissed loudly enough for the front three rows to hear.
Madison didn’t get up. She sat on the stage floor, looked at her torn hem, and burst into loud, inconsolable sobs.
The auditorium fell into an awkward, painful silence. Two teachers rushed from the wings to help the crying child to her feet, gently guiding her offstage as Brooke glared at her daughter with unbridled fury, her face twisted in rage.
“A round of applause for Madison, everyone!” Mrs. Gable stammered over the microphone, trying desperately to rescue the energy in the room. “Costume malfunctions happen to the best of us! And now... our final contestant of the evening.”
Mrs. Gable paused. She looked at her notes, then looked toward the stage left wings, where the shadows were thick.
“Representing the theme of Celestial History and Royal Heritage... Miss Lily Carter, presenting... *The Aurora Borealis*.”
The stage lights dimmed.
The high school lighting technician, who had received specific instructions from Julian Sterling’s team two minutes prior, killed the harsh yellow overhead spots and brought up a breathtaking, slow-moving wash of deep indigo and soft, cool silver light.
A hush fell over the room.
May you like
Then, Lily stepped onto the stage.
***
