A Step Off the Path

A Sweet Cadence

Chapter 1

My parents had a strange relationship. Sometimes they were all over each other - even embarrassing in their passion - but, more often they were firing shots and having 'goes' at each other.

The latter didn't seem to cause serious anger, more annoyance and promises of "I'll get you back for that."

I began to realise years later that there was a very strong underlying bond between them and that all the 'digs' and nasty tricks they pulled on each other may actually be some sort of twisted, or perverse, expressions of love. Or perhaps it was simply that they liked practical jokes and 'clever' witticisms.

Oh, I'm Cade, their son and eldest child - I have two younger brothers.

One of Mum's tricks on Dad was to get me into ballet classes when I was six, she thought that Dad wouldn't like it - believing that he had a 'girls do ballet, boys play footy' attitude. I doubt that Mum intended to persist with the classes, but things rather took on their own momentum.

Firstly, Mrs Bosko, the teacher, told Mum that I had talent. Of course, Mum just thought that the teacher said the same thing to all the parents. However, Mrs Bosko pointed out the difference in how I moved and how some of the 'untalented' kids moved. Mum could see it quite plainly.

Secondly, I began to like it. I began to like it a lot and wanted to keep doing it.

My father came on board quickly.

By the time I was ten, I was easily the best of the boys in the ballet class. Mind you there were only four of us (and twelve girls). But even when I compared myself to the girls, I reckoned that I was up with the best of them.

I had only one obvious failing, or weakness . . . lifting. As the male dancer, I had to lift the girls in many of the routines, but I could only lift the smallest girls. My skinny arms and narrow shoulders simply didn't have the strength to lift any of the bigger girls.

Mrs Bosko told me to start doing weight training to build myself up. I did, but not very much; I preferred to do all the other exercises. Still, I did get a bit better at the lifting.

Just after I turned thirteen, Mrs Bosko asked my parents to come to a special solo session with me.

"I'm going to get Cade to do two routines. I want you to tell me what you think, but only after he's finished both of them,"

She put the music on. I knew the two routines very well and completed both without any trouble or errors.

Mum and Dad were in agreement, "They were both really nice, but the second one was clearly the best. Cade seemed to be more graceful and flowing."

I was standing there, still in my leotard and ballet shoes. I had realised what was coming; it was something I'd known for years but had refused to admit to myself. I felt frightened, but also strangely excited.

Mrs Bosko spoke quite firmly, "I would describe the first dance as a good solid performance, but nothing more. The second routine was a different story altogether. For someone of Cade's age, it was simply outstanding. It is probably the best I've ever seen. Cade's true talent was on show."

She took a big breath and so did I.

My teacher went on, "The first routine was one for male dancers . . . the second routine was for female dancers."

Mum and Dad looked at each other, a little confused. "What does that mean?" Dad asked.

But, I knew exactly what it meant.

Mrs Bosko held up her hands, "I don't want to say anymore. Please, go home, the three of you and talk about it."

We went home and, at Dad's suggestion, slept on it.

Chapter 2

The next morning, the three of us sat around the table while my brothers played in their room.

Mum opened with, "Darling, do you want to make a career out of your dancing? Do you want to become a professional dancer?"

"More than anything in the world, Mum," I answered fervently. I'd spent what seemed like hours in bed last night thinking how empty my life would be if I couldn't dance, if I wasn't a dancer.

She looked across at Dad.

"Well, that's the bottom line. Let's deal with it," he said briskly.

Mum turned her gaze back to me and, after a pause, spoke softly, "From what we understand, from what we've seen, for you to be successful, it will have to be . . . as a female ballerina."

Her voice caught as she said those last words. But, the words were on the table now, out in the open; they wouldn't just go away.

Mum's eyes were moist, her face full of love and pain. The tears were running down my cheeks.

I turned towards my father, "Would you hate me, Dad?"

I'd never seen my father cry, until now, "How could you think that," he gasped, "I love you, Cade. You're my child, We all love you, and we will always love you."

Chapter 3

Mum and Dad came with me to my next dance class and spoke to my teacher.

"Mrs Bosko," Dad said in a serious tone, "I'm afraid Cade will be withdrawing from your class."

The teacher looked shocked and disappointed.

Mum spoke up, "Instead, we'd like you to enrol our daughter, Cadence (my parents couldn't help themselves with their silly jokes). We believe that she has real talent and we want to support her fully in her aspiration to become a professional ballerina."

Mrs Bosko managed a relieved laugh and gave me a smile, "She has got great potential and I'm looking forward to helping her achieve her dreams."