Ten

“THE MAKEUP IS here!” Romney came running onto the stage with a box in his hands. “Let’s try it out.”

“Okay, you can have a long break.” Barron must have known better than to try to keep rehearsing with Romney and Kyle already opening a medium-sized box set between them.

“Base, several shades.” Romney called out what he was taking from the box and setting onto the floor. Kyle grabbed it, then passed it on to Primavera and Rima, now sitting on the stage with them. They looked like a bunch of kids at a birthday party, watching Romney open his presents.

Miki realized that much of the troupe’s behavior was child-like, but somehow it endeared them to her even more. They hadn’t lost that fun and wonder that children have.

“Did we get liquid eyeliner?” Primavera asked. “This pencil I have is no good at all. It smudges after an hour.”

“Three shades,” said Kyle. “Black, dark blue, and purple.” He handed the tubes to Primavera.

“I want purple.” Rima took one tube and searched the box for a brush.

“Just wait.” Romney slapped her hand. “It was my turn to open the box.” Now Romney sounded like a little kid trained to take turns, but wanting to make sure everyone knew it was his turn today. Miki giggled behind both hands. Her eyes met those of Davin and he grinned, his eyes teased her, but also showed he agreed with what she was thinking.

So far Davin had continued to stand. He looked on from a distance. Then he came to her, took her arm, and moved them both closer.

“Want some makeup?” he asked Miki. “I’ll do your face if you’ll do mine.”

“I—I guess so. It’ll be fun to try it out.”

“Did you order powder?” Davin asked, reaching down and searching through the supplies.

“Three boxes. That should be enough.” Romney handed Davin one box of face powder.

Davin indicated that Miki should sit on the stage floor opposite him. When she did, he took her face in one of his hands. “Let’s see, probably number one ivory, when you aren’t blushing.” He smiled and looked back over his shoulder for a bottle of liquid base.

Miki knew she was blushing. She’d never had anyone look at her so closely, and when Davin did so, she was thrilled by his touch. At the same time she was embarrassed by his close study of her. While he got what he needed, she tried to calm down.

“Okay, sit still.” Davin poured some liquid ivory onto his hand. “Instead of white, we go a couple of shades lighter than skin tone. Using white would look inferior and unprofessional.” He smeared the base over Miki’s face, then used two fingers to make sure it was even. When he was finished he reached for the powder and a puff. “Now, close your eyes. I’ll put white powder over this. You’ll have a grayish ethereal glow.”

“Sounds beautiful.” Miki had trouble imagining what she would look like by Davin’s description.

“You are. Just wait and see.”

“Hummm, with your reddish hair, black would be wrong. I’m going to try the dark blue eyeliner. You have to hold really still now.” He took her chin in his hand again, steadied her face, then put his hand at the back of her head. “Look up.” Carefully, slowly, he lined Miki’s eyes with the deep blue color.

“What do you think?” he asked Kyle who had stopped to watch.

“Perfect. Matches her eyes, makes them stand out.” He winked at Miki. “Davin’s the artist. What will you put on her cheek?” Kyle asked.

“Choose, Miki,” Davin looked at her very seriously. “Do you want a spider web, bat wings, or let’s see, a small skull with tears of blood?”

“Goodness, I have to choose?” Miki tried not to laugh. Everyone was so serious about looking Gothic punk, but running around with a skull on her cheek seemed a bit much. “I guess a cobweb. Yes, definitely a web since we’re doing Arachnid.”

“Good.” Davin tipped her face up again and started to draw on her cheek with the same brush he had used for the eyeliner. The hairs tickled, but Miki kept very still.

“Oh, Davin, you have to do my cheeks,” Rima stopped and sat beside him. “Primavera can’t draw worth a damn.”

Miki stared at Rima. She looked ghostly pale and her eyes were huge in her small face. Her mouth glowed with a pout of purple. Drops of red dripped over her chin and neck.

“Don’t you love this color?” Primavera’s lips were the same red. “It’s called congealed-blood red. It’s perfect.” She tipped her head back and laughed.

“Be sure to do your neck,” Kyle called to them. “Nothing worse than having the makeup stop at your chin.”

When Davin finished Miki, he painted Rima’s cheeks. Everyone came to admire them. He had taken advantage of Rima’s high cheekbones to do a grinning skull with blood dripping from the teeth. He was an artist, Miki saw. But so was Kyle. He had painted a spider on Primavera’s cheek and another version of a cobweb on Romney’s face.

“I’ll put on the base, and you powder.” Davin poured a bit of liquid in his hand, smeared it on both palms and creamed his face. Miki bumped the puff lightly on his cheeks, chin, and forehead, then evened it out carefully. Her hand shook almost too much to line his eyes with the black, but she managed by gritting her teeth together and holding her breath.

“I want nothing else,” Davin said. “I’d look silly.”

We don’t? Miki thought, but didn’t dare say that aloud. She could hardly wait to see what she did look like.

“How do I look?” Miki asked, when Primavera had powdered her hair lightly with a silver color. “Don’t you have any mirrors around here? There should be some backstage.” Miki got up to run and find the makeup room. Surely it was in the wings to the right or left of the stage. She realized she hadn’t had time to explore the theater at all.

“Let’s get back to work,” Barron ordered, signaling the fun was over and stopping Miki’s search for a mirror.

“A camera.” Without thinking Miki ignored him. “I’ll bring my mom’s Polaroid tomorrow.”

“I said, we need to get back to work.” Barron’s voice was no-nonsense, “I’m serious.” Miki heard it this time.

“I’m sorry. I just thought—”

“Wear it home,” Davin whispered. “Look at yourself once you get home.”

Miki nodded and ran for the black swing. This routine was to be her first on the trapeze, and she was eager to try it. She put how she looked behind her and concentrated on how she danced.

A couple of people, including the bus driver, looked at her with curiosity when she started home. Heady with success, she ignored them. The whole area was full of theaters, and dance and acting studios. Surely people who took this bus were used to seeing strangely dressed and made-up people. But then most people took off their makeup before they left the theater. She couldn’t bear to do so.

Suddenly she had a great idea. Her mother would die if she saw her. She swung off the bus at Paige’s house.

Fortunately Paige opened the door when Miki rang the bell. “Miki, is that you? Glory, I knew you were mixed up with a bunch of punk dancers. Look at yourself.”

Miki laughed. “That’s why I wore it home—here—I didn’t dare go home, but I didn’t get to see it at the theater. We were playing with it and then we had to get right back to work. Quick, get your mother’s camera.”

Miki ran to the hall bathroom near Paige’s room. She gasped as she stared in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself. She did look great, in a strange way. Ghostly. Ethereal. Bleak. She thought of words to describe her makeup. Darkly romantic? Well, depends on who is looking. To some, she’d look silly or weird.

“That is truly weird makeup,” Paige said, standing in the bathroom doorway, “but obviously put on by a pro. Who’s your makeup man?”

“We did each other. But, Paige, Davin—he’s my partner, did this. I think he’s probably their best artist. Everyone looked great. I know you have your doubts, but the makeup matches the dance.” Miki spun around the bathroom and looked at herself again. She laughed out loud.

“If you say so. I can’t even imagine this show, Miki. You have me dying to see it. Do you know when you’ll open?”

“No. No one seems to be in a hurry.” Miki realized that was true, but she didn’t mind. Rehearsing was as much fun as having an audience, especially one that wouldn’t like them.

“Did you ask about me, if I can try out? But don’t let my mother see you. She’d never let me go over there. I can see why you didn’t go home. I’ll find some cold cream. You’d better get that off.”

“Not until you get a picture of me, Paige. Is that a Polaroid? Take several.” Miki posed as Paige snapped four photos. Then, reluctantly, Miki rubbed her face with the cold cream.

“I guess I’m looking forward to seeing this show. You never know. Sometimes the weirder the better. You might get sellout crowds and play for years.” There was a wistful note in Paige’s voice now, as if she thought Miki would never ask if she could try out and be in the show, too.

“Listen, Paige, tomorrow we’re taking a day off. Davin said I could ask you to go to Bellponte with us, shopping and for dinner. Think your mother will let you go?”

“If you’re going she will. Let’s ask tomorrow, Miki. I’ll get to know them, then we’ll ask if I can try out. Okay?”

“It’s a plan.” Miki slapped Paige a high-five, grabbed her gear, and started for home.

It was all she could do to concentrate on the routines in her dance class. Everything seemed tame, almost boring, after the trapeze work. Several times she let her mind drift to the thrill of swinging in space, spinning and flipping off the bar, landing and being caught and lifted by Davin.

She was so excited and hyper she was almost sick to her stomach by the time they finished class and changed clothes. For once Davin would see her in street clothes.

She had chosen carefully, not wanting to seem dressed up. A rust, brown and black broomstick skirt brushed her ankles, the chiffon overskirt flowing nicely when she walked. A black tank top matched it and was casual. Then because the night had turned cool after all the rain, she slipped on an oversized, cream-colored blouse of sheer crinkle cotton.

“You’re going to wear that chiffon skirt from India after all the publicity about it catching on fire easily, Miki? Mom made me take mine back.”

Miki spread the sheer skirt, and the colors, all her favorites, blended like falling autumn leaves. “Sure. That’s silly, how often does your skirt catch on fire? I love this skirt. I could wear it every day.”

“You like one of the dancers, don’t you, Miki?” Paige knew Miki well enough to see her excitement and her careful detail of dressing and putting on street makeup.

Miki had showered after class, then brushed and brushed her long hair and let it float loosely over her shoulders. The colors she wore set off the red-gold color. Her cheeks were flushed, her whole face glowed. Miki could see her emotions mirrored all over her face. She wished she could appear less eager, but right now she didn’t even know how to breathe.

“I guess I do,” she admitted to Paige. “And I’m eager for you to meet him.”

“I’m a little scared I’m losing you.” Paige never hesitated to say what was in her heart.

“Oh, Paige, never. Never. We’re blood sisters, remember?”

“Weren’t we silly? We were so young.”

“Young, maybe, but not silly. You’ll never lose my friendship, Paige. But you may have to share me.”

Paige sighed. “I’m resigned to that. I hope his friends are nice. I’m afraid I’ve gotten bored with Sean. I told him I wouldn’t go out with him any more.”

Paige never dated a guy for long, but she wouldn’t be bored with Romney and Kyle. Miki didn’t know if she’d like them. Suddenly her excitement gave way to nerves. Paige might not like Davin either, or any of these dancers Miki had grown accustomed to being around.

Miki could never choose between them and Paige. She hoped with all her heart she wouldn’t have to.