Kedri Dancer

By Alexandra A. Cheshire

The colony of Neo-Terra was an experiment designed and funded by a private company in an attempt to recreate Earth as humans knew it. After nuclear war on Earth cut off the exploration and colonization efforts, Neo-Terra was left to the representatives of the company residing on the planet.
One hundred years later, in a society reminiscent of late twentieth century Earth, Kedri is one more girl living out her normal day to day life. The only bright spot in her otherwise dull existence is a passion for dance that will change her and her world forever.
Now including the short story Dance With Me.
The first time Esther met Cade, he didn't seem especially fond of her. As her job gets increasingly stressful and his falls to pieces, they keep meeting and get to know each other much better. Still, will he ever be willing to admit he might just need both Esther and the job he originally turned down?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Howling Wolf Books
• Release date: Feb 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9780993633041

Alexandra A. Cheshire

Alexandra. A. 'Lexa' Cheshire lives in northern British Columbia, Canada. She is a mother who enjoys to read and write fantasy and science fiction.

Book preview

Kedri Dancer

Neo-Terra Colony 1

Alexandra A. Cheshire

Published by Howling Wolf Books at Smashwords

Second Edition Copyright © 2015 Alexandra A. Cheshire

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters, events and places in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people or places past or present is strictly coincidental.

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Dance With Me

About Alexandra A. Cheshire

Other Works

For

Mom Mantler & Mom MacMullen

One

Another Monday morning. The alarm goes off and I hit the snooze button. Then I can hear my mom's voice.

Kedri! If you don't get up now you'll be late.

I groan, shut off the alarm and roll out of bed.

The school uniform hasn't changed in as long as anyone can remember. It's grey and white, just like everything else about the school. I get dressed, brush out my hair, and go down to breakfast.

My plate is already on the table. Two bites of food and a quick kiss on the hair from my dad as he leaves for work. Another two bites of food and then my mom again.

Kedri! Hurry up or you'll be late.

I grab what I can, pick up the backpack stuffed with half finished homework, and head out the door. As I go, my mom calls, Don't forget your dance class this afternoon.

As if I would forget the one thing in my whole life I actually like to do.

It only takes five minutes to walk from our plain brown townhouse, identical to every townhouse for blocks, to the plain grey school building, identical to every other school building I've ever seen. Walking along with me are a steady stream of adults and children, all wearing school uniforms, work uniforms or suits. There isn't more than a tiny bit of real colour to be seen anywhere.

I follow the flow of students into the school and am immediately flattened against a bank of lockers as the popular crowd sweeps through the hall. Once they're gone, I head for my locker. The lock jams when I go to open it and it takes a minute of fighting to get my locker open. I stuff my bag inside and grab what I need for first period. The warning bell rings as I rejoin the flow of students in the hall.

The second bell rings as I reach the classroom doorway and I barely make it through before the teacher closes it. Anyone behind me is locked out. I take my seat while the teacher returns to her desk to call the attendance. I raise my hand when called.

I have your essays marked, The teacher announces, Get out last night's homework while I pass them back.

I'm searching my book frantically for the right papers when my essay lands on top of everything. A huge red C- blocks everything in one top corner. I sigh, stuff the essay into my books, and return to my search for my homework.

I'm coming around to check your homework. The teacher announces from the front.

I finally find the papers and smooth them out as well as I can. As usual, I'd only gotten part of the assignment finished. The teacher frowns on seeing it, makes a mark in her book, and moves on to the next student.

After that, first period passes as usual and second period isn't any better.

At lunch time, the line is every bit as long as usual and, by the time I have my food, there isn't anywhere left to sit in the cafeteria. I end up squeezing onto the end of a bench and manage to eat my lunch in peace. The bell rings as I finish eating and I join the long line to return my tray.

By the time I stop at my locker and get my books, the second bell has rung and I end up locked out of my third period class, along with a handful of others. We hang around the hall and commiserate until another teacher comes along and shoos us off to the study hall.

I make it to fourth period on time, but can't find my homework which means a zero in the teacher's book and a long boring wait while the rest of the class goes over the answers.

Then, finally, the last bell rings. I go to my locker, stuff my homework into my bag, and join the stream of students leaving the building. Once I'm outside, I walk ten minutes to the dance studio. Inside, I head for the dressing room to change.

Kedri, A blonde girl from my class calls, Did you hear the director will be watching our class today?

No, I quickly shed my school uniform, Did you hear why?

He probably wants to see what we're working on for the recital. Figures a brunette girl a class above us.

I nod as I get dressed in the standard white rehearsal bodysuit and skirt. Even as dancers, we only get colourful clothes when we're performing at recitals and competitions.

Sure enough, when I enter the studio with the others in my class, the director is there, talking to our teacher. We gather in the middle of the room and begin warming up.

Eventually, our teacher calls for our attention, Good afternoon. The director would like to see the solos you have been working on for the recital as well as the group performance for the city wide competition next month.

I nod to myself and I'm not the only one.

We'll do those towards the end of class, Our teacher continues, For now, let's start with a lesson.

Once the lesson starts, I'm in my element. I love to dance and there are days when it feels like it's the only thing I'm really good at. Even when we have to demonstrate what we've been working on for the director, it doesn't bother me.

I'm actually one of the last to show my solo. That's probably a good thing because as I finish, I glance in the mirror and, just for a second, it looks like I have large, white gossamer wings. Then they're gone, but I'm getting wary looks from everyone in the studio. I quickly rejoin the class so another girl can take the floor.

At the end of the group performance, the director is smiling and nodding approvingly. After he leaves, our teacher dismisses us.

Kedri.

I pause and turn back to the teacher, Yes, ma'am?

More focus on the steps, less on the music, She seems more scared than angry, Otherwise you'll get yourself in trouble.

Yes, ma'am. I nod quickly. I understand what she is trying to tell me. I'd gotten lost in the music and movement and that's dangerous.

Good night.

Good night, ma'am. I head for the dressing room.

The other girls finish changing and leave without speaking to me. I'm not surprised. Or that my hands are shaking enough to make changing difficult. What happened was just too weird.

Finally, I'm ready to go home and I leave the dressing room. As I leave the studio, I can feel someone watching me. Glancing back, I spot the director in his office window. He waves and I wave back before walking home.

I arrive at the same time as my dad and we enter to find supper almost ready. I just have time to hang my bag on the hook and go up to my room to change out of my uniform. I choose jeans and a t-shirt in soft colours and quickly run a brush through my hair.

As I finish, I can hear my mom call, Supper!

I go down to the dining room and take my seat at the table. Supper is more or less the same as always and the conversation is the same. My mom asks my dad how work was and me how school and dance class went. I tell her everything is fine, just like I always do.

After supper, I help clean up the kitchen before starting into my homework. As usual, I'm tired and falling asleep as I work and nothing gets properly completed.

Bedtime, Kedri. My mom interrupts one last attempt at my homework.

I pack everything away and hang my bag on its hook. Then I change into pyjamas and generally get ready for bed. As I turn off my bedroom light, my dad appears in the doorway.

Good night, Kedri.

Good night, Dad. I step close enough for him to kiss my forehead. Then he leaves and I climb into bed. A moment later, my mom appears in the doorway.

Good night, Kedri. Sweet dreams.

Good night, Mom.

She blows a kiss and closes my door, leaving me in pitch blackness. I curl up in bed and try to remember how I felt when I was dancing this afternoon.

Tuesday passes the same as Monday had except without any bright spots or weird occurances at all. Wednesday is my next dance class and I arrive at the studio after school to find everything the same as always. In fact the incident from Monday's class seems to have been forgotten and, in the dressing room, I'm greeted the way I always am.

We get into class to find the teacher waiting with a costume rack.

Good afternoon, She greets us, At the end of today's class, we will be picking your costumes for the recital. Start warming up, please.

All through the lesson and practice for our upcoming performances, I'm very, very careful to make sure I don't get lost in the movement and music. Instead, I focus on each step, each arm movement, each head movement, attempting to perform as perfectly as possible.

Very good, Our teacher is smiling as she calls an end to the rehearsal, By now all of you should know what you'll need in a costume for your part. Come take a look through what we have and let me know if you need anything else.

As we start for the rack, we hear screams and then alarm sirens from outside. All of us, even the teacher, flock to the window to see what is going on.

Down in the small park beside the dance studio, crowds of people are gathering at a distance around a small boy exhaling fire with every breath he takes. The poor boy looks as scared as anyone, but no one goes near him until a plain grey van arrives. Two men in plain grey suits get out and the crowd parts to give them access to the child. The men take him by the arms and carry him to the van. Once the doors shut, the crowd begins to disperse and is nearly gone by the time the van actually pulls away.

I turn away from the window to see our dance teacher nodding sadly to herself. Then she claps her hands sharply.

Costumes everyone! She waits for us to move away from the window, Kedri, come here, please.

I cross the room to her. Yes, ma'am?

After last class, the director and I had a talk about your performance and he suggested a very specific style of costume for you.

Okay... I can't help being wary.

Don't worry, Kedri, The teacher tries to reassure me, You performed beautifully in class today and you'll do just as well at the recital. Now, come take a look. She leads me to the rack of costumes and takes an opaque dress bag from one end.

I take the bag and unzip it to find the most gorgeous costume I could've ever imagined. It's perfect for my solo. The fabric seems to move even when held still and the bright blues and greens remind me of the one glimpse I had of the ocean when I was a small child.

Wow! I lift the hanger free of the bag so I can get a better look. It's a dress with a halter top, tight through the bodice, but with layer upon layer of gauzy skirt. With it are a pair of tight, blue, knee length shorts.

Go try it on. Make sure it fits well.

I nod and take it to the dressing room. A few others are there, trying on their own costumes, but they pay little attention to anything other than what they're doing. I quickly shed my rehearsal clothes and slip on the shorts and dress. Then I look in the mirror.

The plain greys and whites of the clothes I wear every day tend to make me look washed out and blah. Now the colours of the costume bring out the blue of my eyes and some blonde highlights in my otherwise mousy hair. I almost look pretty. At the recital I will because we'll have make-up for on stage and a professional to do our hair. I've always looked far better during performances than any other time.

More importantly right now, the costume fits like it was made for me. I change into my school uniform since rehearsal is over for today. Then I tuck the costume back in its bag and put my rehearsal clothes away. Once I'm done, I return to where the teacher is helping others put together their costumes. Since she is busy, I have to wait and go over to the window to look down into the small park.

Aside from some small scorch marks on the ground, it looks like nothing happened. In a few days the scorch marks will be gone and that boy forgotten completely, just like everyone else the men in the grey van take away. They aren't seen very often, only when someone loses themselves in something they enjoy doing and something weird comes out of it. That's why my dancing is always technically perfect and I'm careful not to get lost in it. We don't know what happens to the people the men in the grey van take. I know I don't want to find out.

Finally, the teacher has a free moment and I go over to her.

How is it? Her eyes study me carefully.

It's perfect.

Good. Take it with you and make sure you have it Saturday.

I will. Thank you. I leave the studio and walk home, arriving at the same time as my dad.

Another costume, Kedri? He looks surprised to see the bag.

I have a recital on Saturday, I remind him as we go inside, Everyone in my class is doing a solo performance this time.

He nods. Go get ready for supper.

Thursday and Friday pass like they always do. Except Friday is report card day. I always dread report cards because I never do well enough in school to suit my teachers or my parents. Honestly, I try my best. It just seems like there aren't enough hours in a day for everything which needs to be done.

Seriously Kedri, My mom looks as irritated as she always does when looking at one of my report cards, Something has to be done about your marks.

My dad adds, You'll never get into any kind of college if your transcript looks like this.

I don't say anything. I've heard it all before and know exactly how they will counter my arguments. And no matter what they try in an attempt to help, it doesn't do any good.

Kedri, My mom sets down my report card, her expression turning serious, Even a fine arts school won't take you with marks like this. I know you want to dance, but you won't be able to if something doesn't change.

I slump in my chair, knowing there's nothing I can say to that either.

I'm going to talk to the school on Monday, My mom continues, See if I can arrange some help for you after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I just nod. At least I know she won't do