MARIA

Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22317, 3 February 1938, Page 8 (Supplement)

MARIA

(By Helen Shaw)

Andrew, Lulu, and Maria Woodley decided to dance a ballet in their barn. Andrew thought of the story which he callgji, “The Merry-go-round-Dream,” and this is what Stephen printed on the programmes. “Minette lived by the sea, but she was too poor to buy a ticket for 'the merry-go-round which she longed to ride on. At night she dreams that the horses and puppets come to life. On waking, she climbs out of her window _ and runs to the Columbine on the ticket box, but the Columbine is once more still and fixed to her little stand. The drummer’s right hand is raised ready to beat his drum as soon as the machinery starts. The jester’s grin is. a painted one. The gipsy holds out her tambourine and smiles like a doll, and the horses are quite motionless, as if they had never cantered and galloped across the stage. Sadly, Minette blows out her night light, for it is morning and she realises that it has. been a dream.” The children made a stage at. one end of the barn. Stephen hung a blue curtain which he painted with silver and gold circles, and at the back a cardboard cottage and in the middle, the merry-go-round, decorated with red and orange paper and a string of coloured lights. Lulu taught everyone the steps, and Gretchen and Timothy learned the music. For days they practised and cut out costumes and sewed on spangles and frills and talked in whispers about the “twenty-third” which was the night for the ballet to be given. And now it actually was the night. Maria thought, looking at her strange new face in the mirror. It felt like a thin clastic mask and the greafie paint had a funny smell, but she looked a real Columbine with her pink cheeks, bright mouth, and fluffy blue skirt which stood out from her waist like a double daisy. Maria Woodley had vanished. . . There was Andrew climbing on to the puppets’ stand with his black and yellow trousers and coat painted with orange half-moons and the peaked jester’s hat bobbing

a large silver bell on the end like a bee hanging in a fuschia. Andrew also had a new_ mouth, wide and scarlet and curling up into a grin at the corners. Gretchen was lighting the night lamp. It had a green shade like a boat with cu* out port-holes where the lamp shone through. Now Maria could just see her head through the window as she lay down in bed. “Are you ready. Lulu?” someone called. Lulu climbed up beside Andrew. She held the tambourine with its yellow and scarlet ribbons to match her skirt high above her shoulder and stood quite still. Stephen, standing beside the gipsy, looked like a drummer out of a set of tin soldiers. He had two round cherry blobs on his cheeks, strange black, bushy eyebrows, a round blue hat trimmed with red stars - and red striped trousers. Maria had taken up her position outside the ticket-box. The string of footlights made a thin thread of light under the curtain. She stood on one toe anxiously, what if she should wobble when the curtain rose. What if she forgot the steps. , . . „ But now Andrew was whispering. At least Andrew’s voice came from the jester’s mask. "Horses ready. The ring of children on the merry-go-round crouched on their hands and feet. They wore tight-fitting white suits painted in blue and orange and cherry patterns like rocking-horses, and they had tails and manes made of frayed silk tied up in ribbon bows. The music began. “Lights out/’ someone called. It was dark. A bell rang. The curtain rose. Down in the barn were rows of people. Maria could not see them. She just knew from the clapping that the barn was full. Then they all were silent, for the music was beginning. Softly, like first patting drops of rain. lhat was nor Minette’s dreaming Suddenly it made an up and down run like a jack-in-the-box untwisting. The Columbine came to life Maria pirouetted on one toe, holding her arms out stiffly, then ran across the stage, her shoes tapping on the wooden boards, and threw a handful of tickets towards Minette’s cottage. Minette woke up. She knelt on her bed, staring

out of the open window; The Columbine pointed to the three puppets and flopped to the ground as if she had been a rag doll. Now the piano was louder. The drummer dropped his stick so that it hit the urum. T 1 ; jester bowed to the gipsy. The gipsy rattled her tambourine. All three stepped down from the merry-go-round and moved between the bent horses. Immediately the music became gay, full of jingles and drum beats, reminding Maria of tunes at a carnival. They were dancing now, the jester and the drummer chasing the gipsy across the stage, Andrew doing those leaps that he had practised for so many nights, the drummer running with sliiJ legs, and the gipsy dodging both of them. How exciting it was! Maria could just see where her mother sat in the fourth row. She was smiling. Maria wanted to smile also, but the puppets’ dance had ended. They had sat down in the left corner with their legs straight in front of them and the jester’s and the drummer’s heads leaning on the gipsy’s shoulders. Maria stood up. She ran in and out of the horses, tapping each one on the head. The lights became brighter. The merry-go-round had come to life. The horses skipped from their places. They were leaping and stepping with arched backs. Their manes flew. The light shone on to the patterns painted on their costumes and turned the hairs on their manes into bright flowers. Now they were in a gi’ouo, now they were scattered. Now they made a ring round the puppets, but the jester and the drummer escaped to dance together about the ticket box, throwing armfuls of tickets everywhere. The gipsy escaped also; she took the Columbine’s hands and they swung round on their toes. Quickly they were joined by the jester and the drummer, who supported them while they did an Arabesque. It was almost over now. Why must it end, Maria thought, as the little horses began to prance less rapidly and the drummer to move more stiffly. , ... She darted back to the ticket box. The music ivas quiet again. One by one the horses returned

to their stands. The jester helped the gipsy to her shelf. The light faded from the merry-go-round so that it looked like a silhouette. Again the music was soft like first rain drops. “Black-out,’* Andrew whispered. For a minute the stage was quite dark. Tlie next, all lights were turned on. Maria remained still. She must not look round, but she knew that Minette would be standing in the cottage doorway. There was a short pause. Gretchen —no, in. her white cotton night-gown and loose hair, she was Minette —stood in front of the Columbine. She touched the blue frills, the silver spangles, then . she ran to the merry-go-round. Timothy played a run on his violin like a wave that rises and-can-not break. Minette stooped to pick up the tickets. They fell through her hands. They had turned to leaves, blown from the tree in her garden. The lights were fading. She returned to her bedroom and blew out the night light. It was over. The Woodley’s barn echoed as the people clapped. Yes, it was over, but Maria did not want to move. She would.like to have beep a Columbine for days and days with a painted face and a fluffy, double daisy skirt. She still stood beside the ticket box, although Andrew and Stephen had begun to pull down the curtain and pack away the wings. The merry-go-round ballet had pushed back their manes and were eating chocolate biscuits and ice-cream. The stage was almost empty. Maria heard someone drag away the cardboard ticket box with its yellow frilled awning and then the whole front of the cottage. She wanted something to remind her of this night. The night light, Minette’s port-hole lamp. “Andrew.” Maria said, “I want the night light to keep.” The ballet was over. The barn was no longer a theatre and Maria walked home, carrying the green cardboard boat and her ballet shoes in a parcel.