Continuing Story Part 18

Dahlia continued to work  hard with her studies. She exercised regularly, and when she

had the chances, she worked on her dancing in the dance studio. She and her dance teacher, Miss Trump, worked together, perfecting each exercise. Miss Trump, knew that Dahlia wanted to become a dance instructor, so she was often harder on Dahlia, demanding perfection. She had one year to study and then if she did well, she could go to an area and teach dance herself. Dahlia was taught the moves of the Pirouette, and the Arabesque, the Rond de Jambe, and the Eleve. She also learned the Grand Plie, the Demi Plie, and many different steps.

The teacher took notice of the strong form and the slender legs that were shaped with muscles. The standing on the toes was becoming quite nicely done. She was pleased with her student. She knew that there was a class waiting for her at the end of her hard work.

Miss Trump cracked the stick against the bar, and in a firm voice, said no, not that way, the word, what does it mean, what did your book teach you? Remember the book!, now focus the correct way. Slowly Dahlia would place her feet in the correct position and the teacher would announce, very good, keep practicing, you have far ways to go!

At the end of the next two weeks, was a recital, for all parents and friends to come see the progression of the students. While Dahlia went to school, back at home Rachel was working on a costume for Dahlia. Frills and sequins was what this costume was all about. Dahlia was the lead dancer in the ballet coming up for recital.

Three times a week Dahlia met Drake after school, and helped him by grading papers. When this ended, they found themselves staying later to talk, and sometimes they stopped by the soda fountain on the way home for a quick soda.

Love was in the air. The air brought with it the senses of rose buds opening up on the dewy bushes in the early spring. Flowers of lavender could be smelled when you looked and admired the two together. Sometimes at the dinner table, conversation would all stop, when a question was giving to Drake or Dahlia about how they were enjoying this school year. Everyone waited for a hint in the words of the feelings that were growing between the two, but never a word was spoken out loud.

It was Saturday, and Dahlia had some free time, and so she was going out back in the yard to practice on her home-made bar, when Rachel came to the back door and called her to come in. She had something for her, that had come in the mail.

Dahlia, using her cane, made her way up the path to the back door, and entered in and sitting down on the kitchen chair, she opened her hand to receive what Rachel was handing her. It felt like a letter, but it was written in non-braille, so Dahlia handing it back, asked Rachel to read it to her.

Taking the letter out of the envelope, Rachel,  paused, as she read ahead what the letter was saying. Rachel looked at Dahlia and said it was from her mother. The room became silent for a moment, as Dahlia had not heard from her parents since she had left home. She didn’t even realize that they knew where she lived. She asked Rachel to go on, and read what it said.

The letter stated that her father was ill, and it was too much for her to handle alone, and she needed Dahlia to come home and to help take care of him. There was nothing in the letter asking how Dahlia was, no signs of missing her or loving her, just wanting her help, needing her, just like before.

Dahlia stood up to walk away, but Rachel noticed tears running down the young girls face. She asked her not to go, to please sit back down, and the two of them would discuss this. Dahlia sat back down as asked, and immediately cried out, do I have to go back? I don’t want to go home. They never wanted me, they want me to do as they always did, be there for them, not caring about me.

Rachel, said, of course you do not have to go home. You live here now, and you are enrolled in school here, your studies are progressing nicely, and we have come to look at you as part of this family.

Dahlia stood up and buried her head into Rachel’s chest, crying softly, more for happiness than sadness that she did not have to return home. She never wanted to return to that place, until she had something to show them. She wanted to prove to them, that she could make something out of her life. Dahlia took the letter and shred it to pieces, and looked in Rachel’s direction and said softly, I know he is my father, but this is all I know. He has never given me a chance to know who he the person is. Mother will just have to do her best, after all, it is her husband, and with this, Dahlia went back to the yard to work on her bar. The subject was closed as far as the two ladies were concerned, at least for now.

Drew, and Drake, and all of the ladies were in the living room, waiting for the kitchen to empty of people, so they could go put together the menu they had made yesterday. Tonight, there was a church picnic, and everyone that went to this church, was invited. There was going to be plenty of food. Each family was to bring several dishes. There would be live music, by some local performers and there was even going to be a dance.

When Rachel came into the living room, she clapped her hands together, and with a big smile, she said, alright everyone, let’s get this menu started. Everyone pitched in with voices of cheers and they all marched to the kitchen to start the project.

Dahlia heard noises in the kitchen and stopped practicing and went to the back door and entered. She had been thinking about so much lately, that she had entirely forgotten about the picnic. She asked what she could do to help, and Drake announced to her that she could help him get the deviled eggs sliced and filled. Dahlia went straight to him and was by his side, and the others giggled. Drake with a big grin on his face, said what is all the giggles about, then all started laughing. Dahlia loved living here, she loved everyone, her school, and she knew she was also beginning to love Drake.

Continuing Story Part 10

The teacher was very frank with Dahlia, explaining that sitting back, feeling sorry for yourself, did nothing but hold you back in life, and she was not going to be a participant to these actions. Dahlia listened but made no comments. Teacher continued on that while the student sat herself in a pool of pity, she, herself had made phone calls and had gone to appointments, trying to find the best way to help her, and she had now made a choice.

She explained about a new school that was a half hour away, and they had an appointment in the morning to go visit it and to take a tour. Dahlia sat up straighter and said with no hesitation, no. She wasn’t interested and she wasn’t going. She stood up and felt her way out of the kitchen and went to her bedroom and shut her door a little too hard.

Teacher ignored her, knowing this was going to happen but was already prepared for the fight. She tidied up the kitchen and went to her own bedroom and laid her clothes out for the appointment the next day and crawled into bed and took up where she had left off on reading her book. Before, long sleepy eyes fell on to the pages, and she was fast asleep.

Meanwhile across the hall Dahlia planned out each word on how she was going to have her own way. She was not going to any school for the blind. She wasn’t going anywhere that was so far away, and she didn’t need anyone’s help. She was blind, and this is the way it was. The dancing now was nothing but a dream. She pulled the covers up over her and drifted off into dreams about her non-existence.

Before either of them realized it, the sun was shining in the windows, and the teacher was knocking on her door announcing it was time to get up and get dressed. Breakfast would be soon, so let’s get cracking!

Dahlia roller over and covered herself up with her blankets and ignored the warnings of the teacher. While breakfast was being fixed, Dahlia once again went over in her mind what she was going to say, in order not to go. Soon there was another knock and since no one answered, the teacher walked in and saw that Dahlia was not dressed and ready to eat.

She walked over to the bed and ripped the blankets off causing such a force that they ended up lying on the floor. She grabbed a hold of Dahlia’s night-gown and pulled her to a sitting position and began to take off her night-clothes. Dahlia let out a gasp and was yelling and fighting with her hands to get the teacher to go away.

Teacher said, if you are not going to do this yourself, I am going to do it for you! We are going to this school, we are going to visit it and there will be no more bad actions from your end! Now let’s get moving!

Dahlia still fought, but the teacher pulled her nightgown off and with struggling from both sides and words flying, Dahlia was dressed. She walked her over to the bathroom, and sat her on the stool, and proceeded to wash her face and then braided her hair.

After all was complete, she told Dahlia, lets’ go to the kitchen and eat our already cold food. Dahlia sat, not moving, and once again, teacher helped her up and took her hand and guided her out of the bathroom. Before Dahlia could express any of her planned arguments, she was seated in a kitchen chair, and her plate was in front of her.

Teacher said a quick thank you to God for this food and then began to eat. Dahlia realizing she was not going to win, started to eat, but taking small bites, delaying their trip and the goal to be being late for this school.

There was no winning, if Dahlia didn’t eat, teacher was going to help her. Both ate in silence. It was so quiet, you could hear a mouse running along the floor boards. After breakfast, Dahlia sat, and the teacher cleaned up the dirty dishes. Soon a car honked out front, and teacher told her that she had made arrangements for a ride to the school, so it was time to go. With a slight tug of the shoulder, Dahlia got up and they both walked out the door, teacher smiling and waving to her friend that was driving them, and Dahlia with a big frown.

They got into the car and teacher and her friend chatted all the way and Dahlia sat in the back in silence. She believed she had drifted off because before she knew it they had arrived in the parking lot of the school.

Dahlia wished she could see what this place looked like, but she was not going to give any inkling of her questions. The teacher and Dahlia got out of the car, and together hand, in hand, they walked through the front doors, where they were met by the principal of the school.

Dahlia could tell it was a man, with a deep voice, a voice of authority. They walked into his office and Dahlia was able to hear what the criteria was for this school, the goals that would be accomplished, and the different teachers that were here to help the students.

He asked if they would like to go on a tour, and although Dahlia was not very excited about this, she also knew she did not want to make a fool of herself in front of this man with the deep voice. She stood up and they all made their way through the halls, and classrooms, and the gymnasium. This school had rails on each wall, and it made it much easier for Dahlia to make her way around.

The principal explained that here in the gymnasium there were no large mirrors on the walls but there were rails on each wall, and hand felt markers placed throughout the room would make walking much easier.

Dahlia was not going to let the teacher know that some interest had been perked in her, but the teacher also recognized that she didn’t have to force her to walk any longer. They finished the tour and ended back in the office, sitting in their original chairs.

The principal asked Dahlia what she thought of everything she had heard and he waited for her response. Dahlia mentioned that it was alright, nothing special, but she could not go here, even if she wanted to, as she had no way to and from .

The principal and teacher smiled at each other, as the principal told Dahlia that he had a plan if she was interested in knowing about it.