Free The Angel & the Brown-eyed Boy by Sandy Nathan

glass-walled dance pavilion on the upper floor. Its roof was so undependable that, in the winter, snow drifted in. In the summer, rain drenched the dancers and made the floor treacherous.
    She surveyed her domain. The barre was attached to the outside wall under the windows. The room’s high ceiling and pristine wood floor were more than adequate. She clapped her hands three times and began a ritual that had been the core of her life as long as she could remember.
    The doors to the hallway opened and the girls trooped in. This was an advanced class en pointe. She nodded to the girls, whocarefully arranged their bags and outer clothing in the lockers near the door. For class, they wore identical black leotards and pink tights, along with pink pointe shoes with matching satin laces. Some had bandages under their tights, or wrapped ankles.
    The only sound in the studio was the whisper of satin slippers on the floor as they walked. They took their places, arranged, as always, according to their status in class—best to worst.
    “Bridgette, you will move backward on the barre. The new girl is first.” Bridgette and the others stepped back along the long pole. If Bridgette resented losing her position to an upstart, she didn’t show it.
    Madeleine smiled. Her previous favorite wouldn’t show offense, but she would have to be on guard, watching for toes and knees and elbows that might accidentally trip Olga. Madeleine stood even straighter, speaking in clipped tones.
    “We have a new student. She should be here momentarily.”
    They waited. Five minutes passed.
    Madeleine was becoming annoyed. No one was ever late to her classes.
    Olga wandered in, a full eight minutes late.
    “There you are! I was about to send someone to look for you. Go over there, to the head of the class.” Olga wandered around the rear of the room. Hadn’t the little fool been in a ballet class before? Madeleine’s irritation sharpened when she saw that the girl was wearing street clothes. Henry would have to buy her proper attire after school.
    “Put that coat in a locker,” she said, waving at them. The girl moved toward the lockers, but kept the coat. Madeleine, exasperated, removed it and tossed it over a bench. “Now get in the front of the barre and prepare to dance!”
    Finally, they could begin. Madeleine turned on the sound system. The simple notes formed the backbone of the lesson. They rippled around her, raising her spirits and taking her back to a time when she was a young dancer. She had promise once, a long-legged girl found by the director of the national ballet in a state orphanage.
    “We will do our demi-pliés. First position,” she said, but she didn’t have to. Her students knew the order of the class. The dancers took the first of five positions, positions that would mold their bones and joints so that what was unnatural became natural. Down the line, they assumed the same stance, one hand lightly on the barre, and the other arm gracefully extended toward the center of the room at shoulder height. Spines stretched, heads erect, heels together, and toes pointed outward so that they formed a straight, 180-degree line. Toe to heel to heel to toe, one straight line. It was a position that no one who hadn’t experienced the rigors of the ballet studio for years could assume or hold.
    Madeleine looked down the line. Perfect, perfect.
    Except Olga. She stood at the front of the class, looking around, in no position at all.
    “Olga! Stand up straight! Assume first position!” Olga blinked at her. “Like the others. Look! Haven’t you ever been in a class?”
    She grabbed Olga’s shoulder and turned her around to look at the others. A nasty smile flicked over Bridgette’s face. Madeleine said, “That’s how you’re supposed to look. Bridgette, get in front of her so she can watch you.”
    Bridgette leapt in front of Olga. Madeleine moved the girl behind her, shaking her a little. “Watch what she does. See. Do it like