Sanctity (7 page)

The tag said that its color was eggplant,
which caused me to frown but it was definitely an appropriate
description.  The dress was an odd color between black and
purple and fell in soft pleats to just above my ankles.  There
was a wide black band that wrapped around the dress just above my
waist.  It had a hint of soft, fluttery sleeves that brushed
my shoulders and it was made of taffeta so it rustled as I
moved.  There was a bit of a shimmer to it as well and I loved
the way it looked on me.  I could tell by the expressions on
my mother and the saleslady that I had found just the right
dress.

My mother made our purchase and then we
swung into the shoe store where we picked out some shiny, black
flats to go with my dress.  I was so relieved and couldn’t
help thinking that Saturday would be the best night of my
life. 

“I’m so excited!” I told my mother.  “I
can’t wait to wear my dress and to see the ballet and sit in the
box!”

She smiled at me in the mirror as we drove
home.  “You should leave it in the bag so it won’t get
dirty.  Make sure you hang it in your closet when we get home,
too, so it won’t get wrinkled.”

“I will.”

When the weekend finally rolled around I was
beside myself with the anticipation of going to the theater.
 Halfway through the afternoon my mom took a long bath and
spent an hour or two fixing her hair and make-up.  Before she
got dressed and put her finishing touches on she helped me get
ready.  She zipped me into my dress and asked me if I would
like her to fix my hair. 

I mostly wore my hair down but it was such a
special occasion that I felt I had to agree to have her arrange it
in some way.  She brushed it out and put a deep part to the
side in it.  Afterwards she smoothed it all into a tight
ponytail that she bound back with a heavy tie.  Then she
twisted my hair around and around the tie until it formed a nice
bun.  She carefully pinned the bun into place and fetched her
jewelry box.  She rummaged through the various pieces and
found a few rhinestone pins that she placed in my hair to
accentuate it here and there.  When she was done she took me
to her bedroom and showed me how I looked in her big vanity
mirror.

“You look so pretty,” she laid her hand on
my shoulder and smiled at my reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you,” I said, “I really like my
hair.”

I was not used to having my hair pulled back
from my face, it seemed so different, so grown-up.  I smiled
at myself and was sure my mother was right and that I did look very
pretty that night. 

My mother shooed me out of the bedroom
because it was time for her to put her dress on and for my dad to
get ready.  He took a quick shower and put on his best
suit.  Just as he finished knotting his tie the buzzer
rang.  Both he and my mother stepped from their
bedroom. 

My mother was wearing a long, red dress with
thin straps over her shoulders instead of sleeves.  She paired
it with some black heels and a long, black scarf that she wore
draped around her elbows.  To me my mother always looked
pretty but that night I thought she looked absolutely
beautiful.  I gave her a huge smile to let her know how nice I
thought she looked.

“Hmm,” she said, “I wonder who that could
be.”

My father pushed the button and spoke into
the intercom, “Yes?”

“Your driver for the Arts Center, sir.”

“Driver?” He looked from me to my mother
confusedly.

He spoke into the intercom again, “We didn’t
call for a driver.”

“No sir, Mr. Donovan sent his car.  He
said you were meeting him at the ballet tonight.”

He raised his eyebrows in complete
surprise.  “Very well, um, I guess we will be right
down.”  He turned to my mother, “How about that then?” 
My dad was clearly pleased with the idea of not having to
drive.

My mother was standing in the hallway,
“Well, this will be quite a night, won’t it?”

There seemed little alternative so we
gathered our coats and the other belongings we would need to take
and my dad ushered us out and down to the front door.  There
was a long, black car, “a limousine,” I thought to myself, parked
at the curb.  The driver was standing beside the passenger
door which he opened with a little flourish.  He took my
mother’s hand as she approached and helped her in.  Then he
smiled down at me, “Mr. Donovan’s most anticipated guest; you must
be Elayna.”

“Yes, sir,” I beamed as he helped me
in.  I was flushed from head to toe; thrilled with all my
childish notions about the upcoming experience.

My dad slid in and sat down beside my
mother.  The driver closed the door and took his seat at the
wheel.  He slowly pulled away from our building and we began
our drive into the city. 

The driver didn’t talk much and my mom and
dad seemed a little overwhelmed by the touch of extravagance so it
was a very quiet ride.  I spent most of the time looking out
the window; watching the cars that passed us until they were out of
view or glancing up at the streetlights as they cast their glow on
us at steady intervals along our route.  My mind began to
wander and I found myself wondering about Mr. Donovan and why he
was being so nice to us.  I must have had a curious expression
because at one point my dad nudged me and asked what I was thinking
about.  “I guess I was thinking about Mr. Donovan and
wondering what he’ll be like.”

“Oh, you’ll like him, I’m sure.  He’s
not at all what you would expect.”

I waited for him to tell me more but my dad
turned to my mom instead and started talking over whether or not we
should try and get a bite to eat in the city afterwards. 

Several minutes later we arrived at the Arts
Center.  There was a line of limos and groups of people
exiting from them at the front of the building.  We slowly
edged our way towards the top of the arrival line and as we reached
the main entryway our driver hopped out and delivered us from the
back seat.  He let us know that he would meet us back there
once the show was over.

“Enjoy the ballet,” the driver smiled then
quickly turned and hurried away.

I grasped my father’s hand and my mother
took his arm on the other side and we stepped up to the short
flight of stairs that led into the Arts Center.  Once we were
through the main doorway we stepped into a hall that looked as
though it could have been a palace throne room.  It was
brightly lit by chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.  The
floor was tiled and there were pillars lining each side of the room
and entry ways to the left and right.  Every nook and cranny
of the entrance hall looked to be carved from marble or stone or
wood.  Everything seemed to catch my eye all at once and I
couldn’t get over the magnificence of it all.

My father led the way and after he displayed
our tickets we were directed to a stairway off to our left. 
At the top of the stairway we headed left again and down a short
little stair to the first box on our tier.  There was no one
there except for us.  My father suggested a seat to me, “I
think you will get the best view from here.  Hand me your coat
sweetie.” 

I shrugged out of my jacket and my dad hung
it on one of the little hooks protruding from the wall.  I
took the seat he suggested and looked over the audience and the
stage.  It was darker there than in the hallway but as my eyes
adjusted I could make out the people nearest us and further up.
  As I looked toward the stage I noticed the pit area where
the musicians were tuning up their various instruments and I
watched them all excitedly.  The entire scene was just
mesmerizing to me; everyone in the audience was dressed so nicely,
the orchestra, the ushers guiding people to their seats, the
underlying hum of hundreds of conversations, I couldn’t help
smiling as I took it all in.

I felt my face glowing with happiness as my
father rested his hand on my shoulder, “Elayna, Mr. Donovan is
here.”

I spun about and there indeed was Mr.
Donovan.  I nearly gasped as a series of memories flooded my
mind.  I felt his voice in my head and a familiar sense of
connectedness, “Hello, Elayna,” it was almost teasing.  My
father was looking at me curiously after he saw the spark of
recognition that crossed my face.

“Elayna, are you alright?” My father looked
concerned.

Michael bent down and said loud enough for
my mother and father both to hear, “You are the little girl from
the mall aren’t you, the one by the fountain?”

My mother suddenly recollected the moment
and stepped up, “Oh, yes, Mr. Donovan, was that you?  It was,
wasn’t it!  It must have been what 2 years ago?  I had
nearly forgotten that day and certainly never expected to see you
again,” she hastily told my father the story and thanked Mr.
Donovan again for his intervention.

“Not quite 2 years but close,” Michael held
his hand out to me, “It’s very nice to see you again Elayna. 
I love your dress.  You look very pretty tonight,” he was
obviously enjoying the success of his surprise. 

I felt a thrilling little shock as I took
his hand, “It is very nice to meet you Mr. Donovan.”

“Please, call me Michael,” he slowly rose
and turned to my father.  “It’s good to see you again Mr.
Davis and a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Davis,” he took my mother’s
hand. 

“Mr. Donovan, I can’t thank you enough for
the tickets, the car, it’s very kind of you to put yourself out
like this.”

“It was no trouble at all.  I got your
address from your office,” he looked to my father, “I hope you
don’t mind.  I thought the car would be a fun surprise for
your little girl,” Michael glanced over my dad’s shoulder and
smiled at me.  “It’s a shame, actually, I have this box for
the season and I have only used it once or twice.  So really
it is more of a kindness that you are joining me; I might not have
come at all if you hadn’t accepted.”

I was dazed as I stood there and watched
Michael, my father and mother all speaking quietly together while
waiting for the show to begin.  I wished it were just the two
of us, so I wouldn’t have to be so careful and could show how happy
and excited I was to be there with him.  When it was nearly
time for the show to start the lights flashed and I felt thankful
for the distraction as everyone hurried to their seats.

Just as I was about to sit down, though, I
noticed someone else stepping into Michael’s box.  She was a
pretty woman about Michael’s age with blonde hair and blue
eyes.  She was tall and sophisticated looking and quite
breathless it seemed from trying to get to the show on time.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she threw her arms
around Michael and kissed him squarely on the lips.  He smiled
somewhat awkwardly, took the woman’s elbow and excused himself from
my parents as I looked on.  I wasn’t sure what was wrong with
me but suddenly my heart was pounding and I couldn’t seem to catch
my breath.  My insides felt like they were sloshing about as I
watched the two of them talk and I was having trouble focusing my
thoughts. 

It only took a moment for Michael to say
whatever he needed to say then he rejoined my parents and offered
them a quick introduction.  I didn’t catch the lady’s name
because the throbbing in my ears was the only thing I could hear as
I examined the group of adults before me. 

 It never occurred to me that Michael
would have a date and I was absolutely devastated.  I had the
horrible realization that Michael was a grown-up and I was just a
little girl.  I was sure Michael noticed that something was
wrong as I slowly turned away and took my seat. 

“Are you alright?” I felt his concern in my
mind. 

I couldn’t tell him what was wrong after I
had been forced into understanding.  I tried to hide my
disappointment as I settled into my seat.  There was a brief
moment when I felt like he was giving me a hug and some of my
tension seemed to slip away.  I watched as the first of the
dancers took the stage and once the story began to unfold
everything else was forgotten. 

I quickly became enthralled with the
acrobatic and cinematic display.  I couldn’t stop smiling as I
enjoyed the show.  It seemed truly magical, just as I’d
hoped.  The sets, the music, the ballerinas and their
partners; I immediately fell in love with the imagery and nearly
forget the outside world for the moment.   When the time
came for intermission I realized that I had been sitting like a
statue through the first few acts and my arms and legs were stiff
from being in so rigid a position for so long.  I stretched
and glanced at my mom and dad.  They looked as though they
were certainly enjoying the ballet as well. 

“So what do you think so far?” My mother
asked me.

I could see that my father and Michael were
also listening to hear my reply, “It’s wonderful!  A million
times better than any movie I have ever seen!” I said
breathlessly.

“I’m so glad you are enjoying it,” Michael
bent his knee as he talked to me so that we were at eye
level.  “So who is your favorite character so far?”

“Clara, of course!”

“Would you like to meet her after the
show?”

“No, Mr. Donovan,” my mother started to
protest.

He stood and faced my parents, “It’s not
often that I get to take advantage of the privileges they hand out
to the supporting members of the Center.  It’s just one of the
benefits they give for buying the box for the season,” he assured
them.

My mother looked at me, turned to my father
and helplessly back to Michael, “If you’re sure it won’t be too
much trouble.”

The lady was curious to know what we were
all talking about and decided to join the group.  “Hello
Elayna, I’m Brenda.  Michael didn’t have a chance to introduce
us earlier but I have been anxious all night to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you Brenda,” I was
reluctant to shake hands and thankfully my father saw this. 
He stepped up and made my excuse for me.