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See what I mean, Charlie?”
    â€œYeah. I guess so.” But Charlie didn’t sound convinced.
    Tansy just looked at Mina, as if Mina was perfect. Mina knew she wasn’t perfect, but she felt good. It was discipline that had enabled her to know exactly how to move through the positions, knowing where she wanted every muscle and every part of her body; she was learning discipline. “I think it’ll be fun,” she said.
    â€œWhat music will we use?” Charlie asked.
    â€œSomething modern,” Isadora suggested.
    Mina had just begun to learn about music, and she kept her mouth shut. There wasn’t anything she could add to this part of the planning.
    â€œThere’s some Bartok,” Tansy said. “Piano suites, kind of simple but not really.”
    â€œYou’re a walking music library,” Charlie complained.
    â€œMy mom gives me anything I want.”
    They all knew that. They had all admired the stereo that was Tansy’s own to bring to camp with her, and the stack of records. They all listened to Tansy’s records. Mina listened more than anyone else except Tansy, because almost all of them were new to her; as if she had arrived in an unknown country with a wonderful geography, she was always ready to listen and hear something she’d never even heard of before dance camp.
    â€œMom says since I’m so mousy and all that, I’d better cultivate my brain—”
    â€œWhy do they all want us to get married?” Charlie cried out. “It’s not as if they were having such a good time.”
    â€œIt’s crazy,” Isadora agreed.
    â€œMy mother’s having a good time,” Tansy said. “I think. She’s always going out to do something interesting, getting dressed up, you know, a show or an exhibit, meeting interesting people, artists and things, having fancy dinners.”
    â€œWho keeps your house?” Isadora asked.
    â€œThe housekeeper,” Tansy told them.
    That struck them as funny.
    â€œMrs. Welker,” Tansy said. “Who keeps yours, Mina? When your mother’s working?”
    â€œWe all do,” Mina said. “You know, we have chores.”
    â€œEven your father?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œBoy, if my mother tried to make my father do laundry,” Charlie said, “or vacuum—that would be a fight that would take two weeks to blow over. We’d all starve to death in our rooms before it was safe to come down. But Dad’s in advertising, and there’s a lot of pressure in that. I guess your father doesn’t have that kind of pressure, does he.”
    Mina didn’t know. “We quarrel,” she said. Everybody quarreled, it was human nature, and she hoped Charlie didn’t feel embarrassed because her parents had fights.
    Isadora’s mother had been married and divorced, twice each. “Don’t I know about quarrels,” she said. “I’d rather think about this performance.”
    â€œI wondered,” Tansy suggested in a particularly quiet voice. Mina sat up to pay close attention. She’d learned that when Tansy used that voice, it was because what she was going to sayreally mattered to her. Tansy looked at Mina. “If Mozart could work, for Aslan’s music.”
    â€œMozart and Bartok together?” Charlie laughed.
    Mina had heard some Mozart. His name often came up in the music class. She wondered if Mozart was the kind of music you could dance to, though. She didn’t say anything and nobody asked her opinion. They talked on about which of Mozart’s pieces they should listen to.
    â€œI think we ought to at least try. Whatever else, Tansy really does know what she’s talking about when she talks music,” Isadora finally said. “If it works, we’ll be the most original I bet.”

CHAPTER 4
    M ina lifted her right leg onto the barre, toes pointed, and stretched her arms toward it. Watching herself in the