Fiction Short Story

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Fiction Short Story

by Debra Purdy Kong

Two Resolutions

While still half asleep, Maude Crossley opened her bedroom window for cooler air. She started to turn away when a flash of white in her neighbour's backyard caught her eye. "Why," she gasped, "is the famous singer and movie star, Cher, dancing on Daphne Christensen's lawn?"

Wiping bleary eyes, Maude tried to think clearly. Despite the dancer's long black hair and slim build, this couldn't be Cher, yet she sure wasn't Daphne either. Maude watched each barefoot step flow gracefully into the next as the white dress swirled to a silent rhythm. Gradually, the woman danced toward Daphne's back door, then disappeared.

Maude leaned out the window. Daphne hadn't mentioned having a houseguest. On the other hand, they hadn't chatted much since Daphne's daughter, Beth, left home and moved in with her father last month.

On the phone the next morning, Maude frowned as Daphne said, "No one was dancing in my yard last night, I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, Cher's not a dancer, she's a singer."

"And a darn fine actress, but..."

"Maude, drop it, all right? You're scaring me and I can't deal with this now."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"It's okay. Listen, I should have called you ages ago, but with Beth gone I've lost track of time."

"How's Beth doing?"

"Fine, I guess. She phones once a week, but doesn't say much."

That's because Beth was like her mother, and Daphne didn't express her feelings often. Even last year's divorce from her husband had warranted only a couple of philosophical sentences now and then. It worried Maude. Both mother and daughter kept too much buried.

"Camille signed me up to play in the band at the school's performing arts show next week." Maude hoped a change of subject would cheer her up. "Are you participating?"

"No, I ... well, it's been hard enough trying to stay on the diet. Being scrutinized on stage would be really scary."

"I know. Ever since we made that stupid New Year's resolution in front of everybody, I've spotted more than one pair of eyes studying my backside at the gym. Thank God I'm only playing the triangle in the back row."

"Sorry I haven't gone to the weigh-ins with you, Maude, but the expectations are so high."

"I understand."

Since all of their conversations during the past four months had taken place over the phone, Maude wondered if her friend had gained weight. Now that she thought about it, Daphne had become somewhat reclusive. Too bad, her friend had seemed so determined to lose those forty pounds.

"Daphne, come to show with us. It'll be fun."

"Thanks, I'll think about it."

Late that night, Maude tossed and turned from the heat and her husband's snoring. At two a.m. she was sipping hot milk at the kitchen sink when she spotted the dancer in Daphne's yard.

Maude turned off the light. By the time she returned to the window the woman had vanished. Maude shivered. She didn't believe in ghosts, however, something definitely odd was happening next door. Daphne sure hadn't wanted to discuss the dancer. Did she know more than she was saying?

At breakfast, Maude was still brooding about what she'd seen when her daughter hurried into the kitchen.

"Camille, how are things going with Beth?"

"Okay, why?"

"Any chance she'll move back home?"

"Not right now. She thinks her mom's a loser for quitting so many things, like her marriage."

"Do you know if she's still dieting?"

Camille shrugged. "Beth said her mom only wears ugly, ankle-length dresses shaped like a tent. Anyway, remember how she dropped out of university a couple years ago? Beth said she's taking some other course now, but Mrs. Christensen won't tell her about it. She figures that's because her mom'll quit that too."

"Sounds like Beth's giving up on her."

"Maybe Mrs. Christensen is giving up on herself. She dreamed of performing on Broadway years ago, you know, but only auditioned twice before packing it in. Then there's her resolution about dancing in the show this year."

Maude stared at her. "I didn't know that."

"Beth said she made the resolution on January First. I wasn't surprised 'cause Mrs. Christensen always practiced her jazz moves around the house."

Maude recalled that Daphne once mentioned studying ballet and modern dance, until her pregnancy.

"Anyway, by February she'd stopped practicing, maybe because of her weight, so Beth knew she'd back out, which really ticked her off. She said her mom's got no guts."

Maude nearly slopped boiling kettle water over her hand. Beth had guts. She was also as tall as her mother, yet slimmer, and in her fifth year of dance lessons. Although her dark hair was short, a wig could change that.

It wasn't like Beth to play cruel jokes on others. Still, during her days as a social worker, Maude had seen how some people resorted to cruelty when their hurt and anger became overwhelming.

"Beth's dad lives close to us, right?"

"Sure, about ten minutes by bike." She observed her mother. "You've got that weird 'I'd better snoop around' look."

"I do not."

Maude turned away. She never could fake much around Camille.

"Won't you be late for school?"

Camille sprang out of her chair. "Don't do anything dumb, Mum!"

She'd certainly try not to, but sleuthing didn't come with guarantees. Had Daphne spotted her daughter prancing around the backyard and confronted her? If Beth was taunting her, she had to be stopped. The only way to do it would be to catch the girl barefoot, so to speak.

The plan, although simple, was far from comfortable. Lying in her son Jeffrey's sleeping bag by the picket fence separating their yards, Maude waited for the dancer. She'd left her jogging shoes on and a flashlight by her side.

For the first night in seven days, clouds had rolled in and the temperature dropped several degrees. She snuggled further into the sleeping bag.

Maude had been dozing when something cold and wet plopped on her forehead. Within seconds her face was sprinkled with raindrops. As she sat up she spotted something white moving next door. Maude struggled out of the sleeping bag. Grabbing her flashlight, she raced for the gate. While entering Daphne's yard, the sprinkle became a downpour. The dancer was gone.

Maude crept along the back of the house, and then shone her flashlight through the darkened windows. Nothing. She searched for signs of movement. Still nothing.

Hearing sirens drawing nearer, she darted back to her yard, grabbed the sleeping bag and then hurried inside.

The next afternoon, Camille said, "Can we give Beth a ride to the show? Her mom's not going and her dad'll be working the night shift."

Maude couldn't believe that Daphne would miss a chance to see her daughter perform. Something was seriously wrong. Was she suffering from depression, or was her seclusion somehow connected to the dancer?

Sitting in the audience three evenings later, Maude's own spirits were low. She hadn't been able to persuade Daphne to join them, nor had she been able to confront the dancer. In fact, she'd spotted her only once since the sleeping bag episode.

After playing their flute duet, Beth and Camille joined Maude to watch the parents' segment of the show. The second to last number began with a recording of Pachelbel's "Canon", one of Daphne's favourites. As the curtains parted and the spotlights glowed blue light, Maude gasped. It was the dancer! The triangle slid out of her lap and clanged onto the floor

Maude glanced at Beth who gaped at the stage in shock. Peering at the dancer's face, Maude felt like an idiot.

As her performance ended, the audience erupted into applause. When Daphne removed her wig, people murmured her name, then began to cheer.

"Mom!" Camille shouted. "It's your turn, get up there!"

Maude grabbed her triangle and then rushed up the steps. Daphne was still in the wings when Maude hugged her.

"You looked fabulous, congratulations! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you can't keep a secret."

"I can too, sometimes." Maude shrugged and smiled. "You've been taking dance classes."

"For months. It's amazing how much came back to me."

"I should have had more faith in your determination. I should have recognized you in your own backyard!"

"People see what they expect to see, Maude. In my case, it was a fat blonde in big dresses."

"Why not tell Beth, though?"

"Since I had a slow start, she decided I wouldn't keep either of my resolutions. That's when I realized I needed to do all of this alone."

Maude smiled her. "That second resolution wasn't just about performing a two minute number up here, was it?"

Daphne beamed as she squeezed her friend's hand.

"Don't keep the band waiting, Maude," she winked. "It's not every day you actually get to finish what you start."

© Copyright 2003 Debra Purdy Kong

About the Author:

Debra has published over 70 short stories, essays and articles for publications in North America and England. She has also published a mystery novel called, "Taxed to Death." She lives in Port Moody, British Columbia, Canada, with her family and a menagerie of pets.