Kansas University – Monday Morning, March 6, 1989
“Bravo! Bravo!”
Christina Rogers held her finale dance posture, a perfect arabesque—gracefully balanced on the toes of her right foot, other leg splayed behind, arms spread like a swan gliding over water. Rather than acknowledge the choreographer, she slowly lowered her leg and arms and continued to look upwards, eyes glistening with tears of joy.
“Thank you, Father,” she whispered.
The stage was brilliantly lit magnifying Christina’s joyous smile. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the radiance within.
“You’ll have them standing in ovation, Christina!” the choreographer said, continuing to clap.
“Enough, Charles, or you’ll have me thinking I had anything to do with this. You know where I get my inspiration.” Still smiling, she moved forward out of the stage lights to see him in the dark auditorium.
“Whatever, my angel, I respect your belief in a Higher Power. You’ve come a long way, a swan whose wings were frozen.”
I didn’t ask for this, praise from men, but if my gift glorifies my Father, then I will do it. Charles found me during one of my dance recitals. I took the class only for a stage to share my inspirational dance with others. I wanted to show them that ballet is more than form, strength, and choreography. Dance comes from within, inspired movements that speak lyrics and display music’s flow. The seamless outpouring of my dance is the Spirit within me, who I submit to. It’s all about surrender. Surrendering my will and my fears for Father’s purpose and destiny for my life. I faced my fears, all of them, the day of the audition. As I waited in the wing of the stage, I was ready to dance with Father . . .
v v v
Kansas University — January 1989
“Our next contestant hails from this city, Lawrence, Kansas,” the MC announced from center stage. “A nursing student selected for her creative dance, please welcome Christina Rogers.”
Fear swept over me. A sudden heaviness pressed on my shoulders. My feet felt shackled to the stage floor. Yet . . . I was calm within. A dark force—inky blackness like a duck coated in oil caught in a slick—kept my wings pinned at my side. I had never experienced the eyes of the crowd, the ratings of judges, and the possibility that an audience would not receive my unique spontaneity. Yet peace soared in my spirit.
From his vantage point, Charles could see Christina, her face paled with fear. It was not unusual for one who was auditioning to be nervous, experience stage fright, and although rare, cancel at the last minute. But Charles was not about to let this happen with his discovery.
“Christina.”
Hearing my name I looked upwards.
“You did not ask to be here like everyone else this audience will see today,” Charles said consolingly. “You are here because you want to share your love for someone that all of us should come to know. You are here because you have a gift that should shine from a mountaintop.”
These words spoken by my Father through Charles broke the chains. My body responded as my spirit felt peace and strength that were not my own. His words spoke to my heart. I would dance as I had always done, even as a child. Now, I understood with whom I danced and why.
As if on cue, Christina flowed onto the stage and danced effortlessly with a partner invisible to all but her. Charles nodded to the MC who exited naturally as if Charles’s introduction had been planned. He signaled to the soundboard engineer to begin the music as Christina glided center stage. Seamlessly, she caught the musical notes as they filled the air, like a swan taking flight from water. Her gaze was continually focused upward like a lover looking into the eyes of the Prince captivated by the beauty of His Cinderella.
Charles had seen her dance to this song during her private audition, yet what he saw now was nothing like what he’d seen before. Magnificent. Her performance was an extemporaneous extension of the arms of God, who Christina imagined as she kept her eyes focused on her Father, whom only she could see. As the chorus of the song reached its crescendo, the audience rose to recognize her stellar performance.
Mesmerized by the beauty of her dance, the male judge on Charles’s right rose slowly. The female judge on his left held her hands to wet cheeks as tears streaked her face. Charles stood as the crowd’s cheers drowned out the last of the music. He walked up the short set of stairs center stage.
Christina was composed, gracefully balanced in her classic arabesque pose like a swan gliding over water.
Charles bowed at her side, took her hand and kissed it. “Thank you.”
Christina would dance for Charles now, yet she knew where her inspiration came from.
v v v
Copyright 2017 © Jeff Cambridge
Excerpt from PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge, a writer of transformational fiction with characters that tell life-changing stories.
This is a pre-published scene.
To read the scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”
Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Simply check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at bycambridge@gmail.com.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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