Read Taji's Syndrome for Free Online

added, reaching out to steady herself as she stood up.
    “You all right, Miss Cuante?” asked Laurie, surprised at how pale her teacher had suddenly become.
    “Just . . . tired, I guess. A dizzy spell.” She laughed nervously and made a quick, dismissing gesture, something out of Giselle or perhaps Firebird, both of which she had danced more than twenty years ago.
    Laurie said nothing but she watched her teacher with her enormous blue eyes wide, making her delicate face more fey than it already was. She found her own tote and took a lightweight jacket out of it. “Dad’s going to be at the corner, I guess.”
    “I’ll go with you,” said Miss Cuante with extra briskness to show that her unsteadiness was well and truly over. “I don’t think you should wait by yourself, if you have to wait.”
    “Thanks,” said Laurie, who more than once had attracted unwanted attention; since she had started to grow breasts the problem had got worse.
    Miss Cuante took time to put the single-bulb nightlight at center stage, then switched off all the others before joining Laurie at the rear door. As she fumbled in her tote for the keys, she said, “I want you here for warm-up at eleven, can you do that?”
    “I’m supposed to go to the hospital with Mom first. It’s my sister. She’s . . . ”
    “Not any better, your mother mentioned,” said Miss Cuante as gently as she could. Student and teacher walked together down the deserted hallway toward the glass doors.
    “They don’t know what’s wrong with her. She just gets sicker and weaker and weaker and sicker.” Laurie’s elfin face was suddenly sad. “I hate to see her like this. It’s terrible. She’s always been nice to me, even when I was real little.”
    Miss Cuante pressed the crash bar to open the door for them. Outside, the sky was overcast and there was enough wind off the Pacific to make the cardigan and jacket they wore necessary. The teacher shaded her eyes. “Is that your father’s BMW?”
    “Yeah, the grey one,” said Laurie. “All our cars are grey. You know.” She shrugged elegantly. “The license plates are just as bad. Dad wants everyone to know what he does. He says that it’s advertising, but it’s also ego.”
    “Your father has a lot to be proud of, Laurie. You can’t blame him for showing off.” Miss Cuante thought of her own twelve-year-old Accord parked on the other side of the auditorium and could not entirely conceal her sigh. “It’s a fine car.”
    “I guess.” Laurie was slightly embarrassed and was doing her thirteen-year-old best to hide it. “Well, thanks. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll do the stretching exercises tonight, the way you told me to, and I’ll make sure I’m on time.” She started away, lifting her hand to wave.
    “Tell your sister I hope she feels better,” said Miss Cuante, wishing the same thing for herself. As she walked toward the small lot where her car waited, she did her best to be sensible, recalling that she was approaching menopause and it was time to get a proper checkup. Her divorce two years ago had left some strange scars that still gave her emotional jolts at unexpected times—this dizziness was probably more of the same but there was no reason not to take precautions. As she unlocked her car door, she resolved to make an appointment for a checkup as soon as the recital was behind her.
    Jonathon Grey beamed at Laurie as she got into the car and said, “Well, how’d it go, sugar?” In the last three years he had started to put on weight and although far from fat, he was becoming portly.
    “Pretty well,” Laurie allowed. “I think I’m ready. I miss having the mirrors like we do in the studio—on stage I can’t see if I do anything wrong.” She adjusted her tote between her feet. “How’s Marilee?”
    “We’ll find out when we get to the hospital.” He cleared his throat, a nervous habit which all his family recognized as a signal that he was not comfortable with