His Tiny Dancer [COMPLETED]

IX

~Wednesday, January 5th~

Tick, tick, click, clack, CLUNK, CLANK!

Slowly the five-year-olds begin to trickle back into the studio, their tiny black tap shoes newly tied onto their feet. As more of them enter, the metal-on-wood noise increases until the stomping and jumping begins, and every pound of their little feet on the floor makes my forehead throb.

"Shhhhh." I walk around the room with my finger on my lips as I direct each student to their spot on the floor.

"My tap shoes are quiet Miss Theresa, see?"

"Good job Melody, thank you," I smile down at the brunette in pigtails. Though I'll never say it out loud, Melody is my favorite of all the pre-ballet students I teach. Her chubby cheeks, baby teeth smile, and affection towards me makes it hard for me to not show my soft spot for her. Plus, she's been in classes that I help teach for three years now, so I've gotten to see her grow up a lot. The class continues with simple warm-ups, like tapping the metal on the shoes on the wood floor to the front, side, and back of the little dancers. After practicing a few more steps, Miss Erica and I set up to have the girls move across the floor. I place a green colored spot on one side of the room and a red one on the other side while Miss Erica lines the class up behind the green dot. The music is turned back on and one-by-one the five-year-olds go across the floor, attempting simple shuffle-steps. Myself or Miss Erica has to go with each of them since they can't remember the step for themselves, but it's adorable how they stare at my feet as I do the step and try to mimic me, often tripping over their own feet in the process.

Going down the line I find myself lucky to be escorting Melody across the floor to join the line of girls at the red dot. She smiles up at me with her chubby cheeks and places her hands on her hips as I do. Halfway across the studio I look down at her to see how she is doing. As always, her eyes are glued to my feet, but when I look down at her feet I notice something is off.

"Careful Melody, your tap shoe is-" It's like I can see the future or something. Just as I'm about to warn her, Melody steps on one of her untied black laces and - too preoccupied with the steps - falls straight forward. "-untied," I finish, though it's of no use. I immediately crouch down to her level and pick her up, setting her back on her feet. Looking at her face, I already know what's coming. I've been volunteering at this place for too long to not be able to read little kids. For now she just looks shocked, but then she blinks a few times and the tears start coming.

"You're okay," I say. Rule one of taking care of little kids: never ask if they're okay or not. That just leads to them questioning whether or not they're okay, and they'll probably come to the conclusion that they aren't. Instead, tell them that they are okay, take the question out of the picture. Nevertheless, Melody seems to have moved past that point. Sometimes once the crying starts, they don't even hear you anymore.

I look up from Melody's pink and tear-stained face to look at all the other dancers. Rule two of taking care of little kids: if one kid starts crying, don't let any other kids find out. Currently I'm staring at seven five-year-old girls, all looking with wide eyes at the eighth girl who's crying her eyes out. If this goes on for too much longer, another will start crying, then another, and another, until Miss Erica and I are surrounded by crowd of crying children - and the parents in the lobby will be left to wonder what on earth we are doing to their children in here. Even if the kids don't know why they're crying, they just know there's probably a good reason to cry if someone else is. Miss Erica and I make eye contact and she stands in front of the other girls and begins to talk to them, diverting their attention away from Melody. I take this as my cue to do whatever I can to get her to stop crying.

Rule three of taking care of little kids: distracting an upset child is your only hope. Immediately I pick Melody up and place her on my hip, walking over to the box of tissues by the glass door.