The Bermudez Triangle (34 page)

Music students passing through glanced over, unconcerned. Some nodded. Mel, of course, was transfixed. At the height of it all, as Parker was sinking down to his knees and popping up again, the elevator door opened and Avery stepped out, her face looking very waxy. She regarded Parker for a moment, shook her head, made her way over to the corner where Nina was. Mel hurried over, and Parker broke off mid-routine. He got a scattered round of applause. He bowed.

“I’m not even asking what that was,” Avery said, as Parker joined them.

“Well?” Nina asked eagerly.

“I think it was good.” Avery rubbed her hands together vigorously, as if trying to blow off the energy that still ran through them. “I didn’t start screaming or puke or anything. They look for things like that.”

She looked up at Parker.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m asking. What was that?”

“What was what?” He blinked innocently.

“What happens now?” Mel asked.

“I guess I go home, unless Speakerboxxx here has another number to perform.”

“Performances are at four o’clock and seven o’clock, daily,” Parker said crisply.

“Uh huh.” Avery gave her bag a light kick with her toe. “Time to go.”

“Wait,” Nina said.

“What?”

“Come on,” Nina said, taking Avery’s hand and pulling her up. “You too, Mel.”

Parker looked over in confusion.

“It’s a thing,” Nina said. “We’ll be right back.”

They went into the hallway on the right, the one without the lists and the crowds.

“Okay,” Nina said. “Let’s do it.”

“Come again?” Avery asked.

“Triangle off.”

Avery rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, clearly in an internal struggle between her natural impulse to make a snarky comment and the desire to just give in. Because she knew what it meant—it meant something huge and emotional and un-Avery-like. She plunged her hands deep into the pockets of her leather coat, then pulled them right out again and presented them to Mel and Nina.

“I don’t get you guys,” she said quietly. “I did so much stuff….”

“Forget it,” Nina said, joining hands.

“I can’t just forget it. I did it. I didn’t mean to hurt you guys. I just started getting everything wrong.”

“It’s over,” Nina said. “We’re here.”

Mel started to cry.

“See what you did?” Avery said.

“What
I
did?

“They were still standing in this position, when Nina realized that someone was standing at the end of the hall. She turned and saw a man with a short beard watching them.

“Miss Dekker,” he said.

“Yeah, uh … ?” Avery said, quickly correcting to a “Yes?”

“I’m Doctor Howe. I’m in charge of all piano majors.”

“Oh.” This was all Avery could think to say in response to this. She slipped her hand from Nina’s as surreptitiously as possible.

“We mail letters in late March. Good luck, Miss Dekker.”

“Thank you,” Avery said, her shoulders slumping.

The man opened the velcro strap on his umbrella and shook out its folds. Right before he walked away, he turned and looked at Avery one more time. His expression was unreadable, but the length of his gaze told Nina that he was registering information.

“Come on,” Avery said. “I have to get out of here before my head explodes.”

They returned to the lobby to find Parker deep in conversation with a girl with a red scarf tired around a head of choppy blond hair. He was demonstrating smaller, more conservative moves from his earlier routine. The girl’s eyes were red and puffy, but she was looking at Parker with just a hint of a smile. The girl and Avery seemed to recognize each other. They each gave a small nod.

“How’d it go?” the girl asked.

“I just finished my callback,” Avery said with a shrug, obviously trying to be low key. “Kind of sucked. Dr. Howe said hi to me. Told me when they mail the letters. That’s it.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah.”

“I heard he won’t talk to you unless you’re in. He’s supposed to be weird that way. He walked right past me.”

“Oh.” Avery raised her eyebrows, and Nina saw her sucking her stomach in as she drew a deep breath and held it. “Sorry.”

“It’s all part of the deal. You audition. You get some. You lose some.”

“Right. Is your friend … ?”

“She’s upstairs. She got called back for voice. Then she’s got to go. Her family’s waiting for her.”

“What about you?” Avery asked.

“I live in Jersey. I’m just going to hop a train home. Good old New Jersey Transit.”

The girl tried to broaden her smile. Even Nina could see this was hard on her, and she didn’t know the first thing about auditions. What did she need to know, really? Rejection was rejection. This girl was handling it well, especially considering the fact that a whole group of strangers were standing around her, staring at her, asking her about it.
Tell us more about getting your dreams crushed
….

“You should come with us,” Parker suddenly said. “We can’t go anywhere for a while. It’s snowing. They have to plow. Then they have to put the salt down. These things take time. And we’re obviously going to need fries, and Hard Rock shirts, and little models of the Empire State Building. You know. For the car.”

He threw Nina a quick look, checking to see if this request was okay.

“Yeah,” Avery said. “I haven’t eaten in about a day and a half. And if I don’t get some coffee, things are going to get ugly.”

“It’s okay,” the girl said. But she didn’t move away. She wanted the company.

Parker was still looking at her, waiting for some sign.

Nina was already well past the point where she could get away with the “meeting at school” story. They were stuck in New York in the snow. It would take hours and hours to get home. She was probably going to have to call her mom and come clean and take the consequences.

The consequences were nothing, though.

“Nope,” Nina said, hooking arms with Mel and Avery, leaving Parker to escort their new companion. “It’s been decided. We need help anyway, in case he decides to start dancing again. One of us to restrain each limb. That’s how they do it in hospitals.”

The Bermudez Triangle, and Parker, and the girl in the scarf all headed out into the blizzard together. The snow was coming down sideways, wet and heavy. Cars were sliding. It was wonderful.

“One of us for each limb,” Avery whispered into Nina’s ear. “I like it. Very smooth.”

“I’m always smooth.”

“Me too,” Avery said.

The three of them slipped ahead, tightly holding on to one another for support on the slick sidewalk, and let Parker and the girl lag conveniently behind.

MAUREEN JOHNSON grew up in suburban Philadelphia. She received her MFA in Creative Writing at Columbia University. She is the author of
The Key to the Golden Firebird
.