The celebration began as soon as the vote was over.
Normally the Security Council would have to vote on a treaty that effected world security, and the Nuclear Disarmament Treaty certainly qualified in that respect. But since all of the nations who formed the Council had already sustained the Treaty in the General Assembly, their meeting the following day would be just a formality. The party could begin.
First came a diplomatic reception at which everyone who had not yet done so wanted to meet Liberty. She kept Jason or Shawn by her side at all times, and after awhile was beginning to wish she could borrow some of Ashley’s scars.
Ashley, on the other hand, was enjoying a small plate of hors d’oeuvres and the company of Brother Timoteo and a lady on the diplomatic staff. They were discussing the new services Lyceum would be making available, and the ways in which their work would be different in the future because of the Treaty. Ashley felt right at home.
From the reception they went directly to the formal banquet.
Liberty finally felt she could relax, so she thanked Shawn and made sure he was happily seated beside Sarah, and then found a place with Jason just a few seats away. Ashley and Tabitha were right across the table.
Soon elegant salads began to arrive, followed by artfully prepared veal cordon blue. The three friends exchanged glances of delight as they savored the excellent cooking, listened in on conversations in whatever languages they
could understand, and wondered why Fate had put them so close to the middle of such ponderous events. It was not so long ago, they remembered, that labels such as Run-away, Orphan, and Prostitute had been used to describe their lives.
When the eating and drinking, laughing and talking were finally over at close to midnight, the three friends were all physically tired, but their spirits were as high as the clouds. It had been a day like no other, a day they would remember for the rest of their lives.
Ashley woke about seven o’clock the following morning to find Sarah and a few others munching on a continental breakfast that had been laid out in the kitchen, but most everyone else was still asleep. She took a quick shower, rolled up her sleeping bag, and made sure everything she would need for that evening was in her gym bag.
Soon more people were stirring, and Ashley headed for the kitchen to collect a cup of yogurt and a roll.
“Someone left a message for you while you were in the shower,” Brother Keith said.
“Thanks!” She went over to the computer screen, and as she read the short note, a smile grew on her face. “Karen and the other people I invited will be landing at 5:20. Can we pick them up at the airport?”
“I can do that,” Sister Tamiko said. “Just put their flight information on my clipboard. That way you can focus on getting ready for your performance.”
“Thanks,
Tamiko!”
“But you’re in charge of the breakfast dishes and leftovers. Fair?”
“Fair!” Ashley said with a grin.
Finally, at about ten o’clock, everyone was up and the last few to rise were eating. Ashley started cleaning up the kitchen, and Brother Glen gathered his technical crew and they soon headed for the arena.
“Rehearsal planning meeting!” Liberty announced.
Ashley, Tabitha, and Sarah gathered around her in the living room.
“The dance companies have the floor at one, two, three, and four o’clock.
That leaves five o’clock and on for us, and the floor has to be cleared by 6:45.”
“We’re going to have to eat dinner early,” Tabitha said.
“Yeah. Brother Don said he would bring it in for us, and I suggested three o’clock, but we can still change that...”
“Sounds about right to me,” Ashley said. “And then we’ll need a bunch of fruit and stuff for later.”
“Right. I’ll add that to his list. Fruit...”
“Yogurt, juice, and nuts,” Sarah said.
“Got it. What else do we need?”
“I brought tape and chalk,” Tabitha said. “Do you have something to warm-up in, Liberty?”
“No. I just brought my performance leotard.”
“I have an extra that’ll fit you, if you don’t mind basic black,” Tabitha said.
“For warming up, who cares? Thank you. It’ll be nice to not get my good one sweaty before the performance. It was specially made for tonight.”
Ashley finished her work in the kitchen while her friends got their gym bags packed. Soon the van had returned, ready to take the performers and the four adult members who had been assigned to assist the foreign dance companies.
The van wound its way through Manhattan and entered the underground parking lot of the arena shortly after noon. They went upstairs in an elevator to find Brother Glen and his team hard at work on the lighting and sound systems. The arena was larger than the one at Lyceum, with many thousands of seats. Behind them, the elevator opened again, and the first of the dance companies came pouring out, bags in hand, their eyes wide at the huge arena before them. They ranged from about ten to twenty years of age, and were speaking Russian amongst themselves. Liberty’s face immediately lit up, and she dashed over to introduce herself and practice her language skills.
“I don’t think we’ll be seeing her for awhile!” Tabitha said.
“I think you’re right,” Ashley said. “She gets her Level One Clearance soon, and I think she really liked Russia.”
“I bet we’ll lose sight of you when the French dancers get here!” Sarah said.
“Just for a little while. Shall we go change and do some stretching?”
“Yeah!” Tabitha said.
Liberty spent as much time as she could with the Russian company, talking with them when possible, just listening to their language at other times. They were glad of her attention, as it was seldom that they found people in other parts of the world willing to learn their language. It wasn’t until hours later that they finally realized Liberty was the hostess of the entire event.
But from one to two o’clock, she had to leave them alone so they could practice on the arena floor. Then she was back with them until Tabitha dragged her away for their mid-afternoon meal.
Brother Don had brought them a variety of foods, including Ashley’s perpetual favorite, spinach and chicken salad. He had also stocked an ice chest with fruit and other snacks for later. As soon as she was done eating, Ashley dashed away to greet the French company.
Ashley’s welcome was different than the one Liberty had received. She was in an old practice leotard, her hair was coming out of her hair band, and she hadn’t yet applied any makeup to her scars. The director of the dance company quickly assumed she was just some waif looking for a free dance lesson or a tip. Sister Judy, who had been assigned to that company, saw that Ashley was holding her own, and so didn’t intervene. Ashley hung around, listened to the language (making mental notes about words she might not be pronouncing correctly), and helped with supplies or other needs whenever she could.
The director received a shock when he asked Sister Judy for a slight change in the timing of the program, and was informed that Ashley would also have to okay the change. He apologized profusely, in English, while Ashley studied the schedule change. She forgave him, in French, and realized she was going to have to take precautions when she was away from Lyceum and she needed people to respect her, at least until the cosmetic surgery was done.
At five o’clock, the dance floor was free for Liberty, Ashley, Tabitha, and Sarah to practice. The huge mat was positioned so that it could be quickly unrolled for the gymnastics routines, and then rolled back up and out of the
way afterwards. Shawn and the other members who were ushering were making their plans, and Brother Glen wore a headset as he went from place to place in the arena requesting changes in the lighting or the sound levels.
It wasn’t long before the dance companies filed into the auditorium seats to watch. They were impressed by what they saw and clapped loudly, even though it was just a rehearsal and no one was yet in their performance clothing. They were all world-class, and they were beginning to feel they were in the company of other world-class performers.
At 6:45 Liberty announced, in English and Russian, that it was time to clear the arena, and the assigned hosts translated for the other companies.
Everyone headed for the preparation rooms to get changed.
For a few minutes the building was very quiet, and Shawn went about with Brother Fred making sure all the ushers and security people were ready. At a few minutes before seven, those who had special invitations began to arrive, including most of the delegates to the United Nations and just about everyone on the diplomatic staff. They were guided to special sections where security personnel were already stationed. Then at 7:15 the doors were opened to general ticket holders, and the seats began to fill.
The television cameras were already at work, zooming in on the V.I.P.s as narrators named them and described the parts they had played in the drama that had led to the enactment of the Nuclear Disarmament Treaty. It was the television access that was paying for the four dance companies to be there, and for the cost of the arena. The general admissions would fund Lyceum’s many other expenses for the event in particular, and its diplomatic work in general.
Shortly after 7:30 the arena was full and the doors were closed. The lights dimmed and the audience fell silent.
The music started softly but rhythmically, and a shaft of golden light grew on a single dancer in the middle of the floor. Her long black hair swirled slowly as she moved, and her deep blue leotard shimmered as swaths of the same material flowed from her shoulders, her arms, and her waist.
The song picked up its tempo and more spotlights came into play as she danced more energetically but no less gracefully. The music was deeply
rhythmic, expectant, and irresistibly moving. The dancer was tall, glowing with youthful beauty, and completely involved in the music with every part of her body. The audience was mesmerized.
A bridge in the fully orchestrated piece sent the dancer leaping across the floor, spinning to dissonants of some unseen but deeply felt conflict, and then prancing back in search of her unfulfilled destiny.
Then in larger and larger circles she danced, at one with greater and more powerful themes, again and again, seeming to present her passion to each individual in the audience. Their hearts went out to her, not for simple human love alone, but also for a higher, more magnificent purpose that threatened to consume both dancer and watcher.
The music built to a breathtaking crescendo, and she leapt and spun in ecstasy, circling quickly back to the center. And then suddenly the song relaxed and let its spell fade, and the dancer melted slowly into a simple huddled ball in the middle of the floor, in the slowly fading light.
And again there was silence.
Until finally the audience realized that they were free once more to breathe. And as soon as one person’s hands came together in the first clap, the spell was at last broken, and the entire audience roared with applause as a spotlight rose upon the dancer, now standing with her head bowed.
She kept her head in seemingly abject humility until the applause faded.
Then she looked up and the room fell silent at her glance.
“In honor of the millions of people who have already given their lives in modern wars to keep the world free and safe, in honor of all those who have already perished under the terrible effects of nuclear weapons, and in honor of those who have worked so hard and sacrificed so much to make the Nuclear Disarmament Treaty a reality, I welcome you to New York City, I welcome you to Time Square Arena, and I welcome you to Dances for a Nuclear-Safe Planet. I am Sister Liberty Buchanan.”
The audience again gave her a hearty response.
“Until yesterday, my life was forfeited. Now, with the Treaty in place, my life has new meaning, and every moment that I am alive is a gift that I must share with others. Tonight I will dance for you, and tomorrow I will return home to tend my garden and fulfill my other responsibilities with all the love
in my heart.”
Again she received a strong applause.
“But I can do nothing by myself. I am just a tool in the hand of...
something I don’t pretend to understand. My friends Ashley and Sarah understand these things much better than I do. They will dance for you later, and you will see that understanding in a gracefulness that can only be compared to angels themselves.
“But first we will reach to the other side of the planet, in honor of diplomats and thinkers who have labored in far-away places without our knowledge or reward. Please join me in welcoming the Shanti Dancers of Amritsar, India!”
The audience cheered as they filed out, colorful saris flowing around them.
They seemed very young, perhaps ranging from five to fifteen years old, but they soon proved their excellence, and for the next quarter of an hour they thrilled everyone with dances that were slow, romantic, and mysterious —
dances that were energetic and almost acrobatic — dances that were sometimes sacred, and at other times clearly sensuous — dances that were now youthful and innocent, now pregnant with worldly experience.
After the final applause, the audience was mystified because one little dancer remained in the center of the room after all the others had left.
Liberty, in all her tall, flowing beauty approached the little brown girl, and then knelt down so that they were the same height. They looked into each other’s eyes, and the world watched.
The little dancer from India took something from a pouch on her belt and handed it to Liberty, speaking several words in her native language. Liberty’s microphone picked up the girl’s words clearly for everyone to hear, if not understand.
“Thank you,” Liberty said. “And here is an invitation to visit my home.”
They embraced, and then the girl ran off to rejoin her company.
Liberty stood. “And now, let us welcome the Beijing Modern Dance Academy, from The People’s Republic of China!”
Thirty oriental youth pranced into the arena in traditional costumes as
everyone clapped, and began by performing several folk dances from ancient and medieval Chinese history. The audience obviously enjoyed every moment.
But then they surprised everyone by tossing away their old fashioned garb, leaving them scantily dressed, and launched into a vibrant modern dance to synthesized music. It included mime and gymnastics, and spoke of life the way only young people can experience it, full of magic, full of mystery, full of longing.
And when they finally finished, Liberty thought the audience would never quit clapping. But finally, on some signal from their leader, the dancers quickly emptied the floor, again all but one.
This young man was almost as tall as Liberty. She approached, and they looked into each other’s eyes. He spoke in Chinese and handed her something.
Liberty smiled with embarrassment. Even though she had been told beforehand the meaning of his words, she hadn’t realized he would be so handsome. “Thank you. I look forward to dancing in your country. And here is a picture of me for you to keep.”
He trotted gracefully off the floor and everyone clapped.
“As you can see,” Liberty said to her exuberant audience, “the dance companies who are performing for you today are world-class. This day deserves nothing less. And now, from the largest country in the world, where the sun is rising at one end soon after it sets at the other end, let’s welcome the Moscow Junior Ballet Academy!”
Twenty-eight young, but very serious, classical ballet dancers entered the arena in full form, and the audience was immediately captivated by their expressive skill. They plunged right into a story of war and death, loss and grief, all to the full orchestral strains of one of their own famous composers.
The watchers were made to feel the horrors of the several times in history that Russia had been invaded, before the interpretation finally moved on to modern peace and renewal, democracy and cooperation, and the frolicking of little children.
And when the quarter-hour performance had ended, all of those who had
watched felt they now knew more about Russian history than they had ever learned in school.
Liberty walked up to the fourteen-year-old girl who awaited her. They began exchanging words in Russian, and completely forgot about their audience. Everyone watching was transfixed, as the gestures and chuckles and giggles of the two girls were so clear in their essential meaning that the people in the audience almost felt they could understand the words too.
Finally Liberty realized it was time to move on, so they exchanged letters, embraced for a moment, and the dancer ran to join her company.
“Her name is Svetlana,” Liberty said to her audience, “and she has horses to care for at home, just like I do.”
Many people chuckled.
“And finally, we come much closer to home, to the country that was very much the birthplace of international diplomacy. Please welcome the Paris Youth Academy of Dance!”
Unlike the other companies, they came out one at a time, about every ten seconds, each young but highly skilled dancer finding a different place on the large floor as a complex modern symphony began. And each performer continued to interpret the music separately from all the others. But somehow in their separateness there was a unity, a common theme created by all of them together, a thread that wove itself into the minds of the watchers.
Those in the audience saw the theme all at once, and they turned to each other to share or confirm what they had just discovered: the dance was about the youthful search for personal identity.
Then, as if in recognition that the theme had been understood, it changed, and the dancers paired up and were no longer alone, and they danced together to a different theme, which the watchers saw much more quickly: the youthful search for love and affection.
As soon as the audience had figured out that new theme, it changed again, and pairs came together to form groups of six or eight. At first the groups danced around each other peacefully, occasionally miming the exchange of unseen goods. But soon mimed fights broke out, and not long after all the groups were battling all the other groups. The tension was building, and the
audience couldn’t imagine where the chaos could lead.
Then, hardly noticed, one dancer ran off the floor, returning a moment later carrying a huge mock-up of a bomb, bright red, with a long fuse dangling from its top. It was clearly made of paper, but he made it look very heavy with his dramatic labored steps. All of the dancers froze while he staggered to the center of the arena and set it down. Its meaning was clear to the audience.
Many of the dancers began to tremble, and others began to cry. But one in each group started running around, comforting those who were afraid, running from group to group, giving hugs and signs of encouragement. And then a little girl ran up to the bomb and tried to push it over, but she seemed to be unable to do it alone. More of the youngest dancers from different groups joined her, even as the older dancers were still trembling and crying.
Finally, with about half the company pushing on the bomb, it fell over.
They didn’t stop there, but kept pushing, sliding the mock-up across the floor and out the door through which it had entered.
The audience clapped and cheered, and a new song began, bright and cheerful and hopeful, and the entire company began to dance in complete unity and symmetry, at last showing off their greatest skills, and no one watching was unmoved.
They leapt and twirled, and when the joyful song ended, they bowed deeply and nearly everyone in the seats above stood as they clapped. Then, as they had come, they left one at a time, until only one boy about ten years old was left.
“J’espère que vous pourrez visiter mon pays un jour,” he said, handing Liberty a small box.
“Thank you,” Liberty said, bending down to his height. “And here is a gift for you, to remember me by until I can come and visit you.”
He ran out of the arena, waving as he went, and Liberty straightened herself and looked at her audience.
“And now, from the United States of America... from the streets of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania... me!”
Liberty was perhaps not as technically proficient as the Russians, perhaps not as versatile as the Chinese, maybe not as mysterious as the dancers from
India, and definitely not as dramatic as the French. But the audience had a personal connection with her, knowing that she had played an essential part in the Treaty process. They welcomed her back with loud cheering and watched with rapt attention as she glided around the floor, swooping and twirling to a gentle, melodic piece that spoke of summertime warmth, sandy beaches, and blue waters rolling in. Alone, she seemed to fill the large arena almost as successfully as any one of the dance companies, and her moving interpretation took her to nearly every spot on the floor.
As the song ended, its tones became the sound of the wind and the soaring of birds’ wings, and Liberty glided as gracefully as any feathered creature and alighted upon the last note, presenting herself in humble form for her audience.
And again they made their gratitude known, and flowers, singly or in bunches, came flying down onto the wooden floor.
She walked to the nearest one and picked it up, and the room fell silent.
“Somebody up there knows how to touch a girl’s heart!”
The room erupted in gentle laughter.
“But now I have to step aside, because the truth is I couldn’t have accomplished anything alone. When I hysterically ran up to my friend Ashley, who was out pulling weeds, and told her someone was shooting at me, she could have shaken her head and figured I had gotten too much sun!”
A number of people snickered.
“But instead she believed me, and moments later she was almost killed saving my life. Now it wouldn’t be very nice to drag just any friend out here and make them dance for you...”
The audience laughed.
“But my friend Ashley just happens to be the current United States women’s gymnastics silver medallist and a member of the next Olympics team. Please welcome Sister Ashley Marie Riddle!”
They clapped and cheered loudly as Ashley walked out, realizing they were in for yet another treat. She wore a dramatic black and gold leotard that flashed as it caught the lights, a cluster of yellow flowers held her bright hair in a short ponytail, and makeup had been applied to her facial scars, making them all but invisible. The director of the French dance company swallowed
as he watched from one of the performers’ alcoves.
Brother Glen activated Ashley’s microphone.
“I am certainly honored to be here, Liberty. Actually, when I started that tumbling routine you were talking about, I didn’t even have time to realize there was a glass wall right there...”
Everyone laughed, partly in humor, partly in sympathy.
“You know,” she continued, “if your survival was essential to the Treaty because your father is Senator Buchanan, and my tumbling saved your life at that moment, the credit actually goes back even further. If it wasn’t for one very talented team captain, I wouldn’t know how to tumble like that. Please welcome the only American to bring home a medal from the Chunichi Cup in the last thirty-two years, Sister Karen Sundberg!”
The audience clapped as Tabitha pushed Karen’s wheelchair out onto the floor.
“This is completely embarrassing!” Karen said as soon as she was with Liberty and Ashley.
The audience chuckled. They could see that Karen was smiling.
“As you can see,” Ashley explained, “Karen has given more to the sport of gymnastics than I have. What happened to her could just as easily have happened to me. So as I perform for you, I also perform, now and always, in honor of Karen. And since I have not been back in training long enough to show you the really good stuff, my team leader Tabitha McDonald is joining me. We will be doing a dual floor exercise to the music of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.”
A hearty applause began, and the lights dimmed. When they came up again, the flowers on the floor had been collected, the mat had been unrolled, and Ashley and Tabitha were in their starting positions. The music began.
The song was bright and exciting, but at the same time simple and clean in its melody and rhythm. Ashley danced while Tabitha remained in her initial posture, and as always her motions were totally fluid and her transitions light and noiseless. Soon, Tabitha began a tumbling pass, and part way through it, Ashley froze in posture. Then Ashley danced again, and just as the music entered a complex bridge, she did some tumbling that seemed very basic to her, but was nonetheless impressive to the audience. But finally, as the
musical bridge resolved its tension and the final verse began, Tabitha showed them her most difficult specialties, her twisting aerials and triple somersaults, and then both gymnasts completed the performance by dancing together to the song’s ending.
The audience cheered with appreciation, and Ashley and Tabitha bowed deeply. More flowers flew down onto the mat, and the two girls ran around picking up as many as they could.
The lights dimmed again, and Liberty spoke from the darkness. “I have, of course, saved the best for last. When a person gets caught up in events like those that led to the passage of the Nuclear Disarmament Treaty, it becomes easy to start believing in divine intervention. The other person who risked her life to save mine did so with her eyes wide open in a situation that would have sent me screaming back to my mommy for protection. And she did it at nine years of age.”
A murmur ran through the audience.
“She carries burdens that would crush most of us, and she does it while literally dancing on her toes, as she is, among other things, an advanced ballet dancer. She asked me if she could lead the grand finale, and a request from her is like a whispered plea from an angel: you don’t say no without a very good reason. Please welcome Sister Sarah Rhiannon Skelly!”
The watchers clapped, but were soon silenced as a small spotlight came on, illuminating a lone dancer poised as if peering up at a star-studded sky, wearing a ballet costume that suggested both divine angels and earthly fairies.
Music began to play, off on the edge of hearing, like a rumor of bells and flutes, or just an echo of far away pipes and harps. She started dancing lightly and silently, and seemed not to touch the floor. The spotlight following her, the rest of the arena remaining dark. The audience was caught in her spell.
The music took up new themes, now with strings and the sweet voices of a treble choir, now with deep drums and clarion horns, and she danced with all her heart and she showed them how free from the cares of the world a fairy could be, how unhindered an angel could fly.
Nearly every face in the audience wore a smile, and they could have watched her all night, but she had other plans. She glided to one entrance and beckoned, and the Russian dancers entered on their toes. She pranced to
another curtain, and the colorful young dancers from India poured into the arena. At yet another the French youth flowed onto the floor in dancing pairs, and at a fourth curtain, the Chinese strode in, arms swinging as if ready to fly.
Each dance company began to form a large circle as the music became more rhythmic, and the circles overlapped and they threaded past each other carefully, flawlessly, even though each company was dancing a completely different style. And amongst it all Sarah went this way and that, dancing in one of the spaces for a moment, then darting through the lines of dancers to another space.
Then Ashley and Tabitha began doing cartwheels and round-offs and other simple skills around the outside of the entire formation, and Liberty danced her way into the space at the very middle of the arena. The resulting complexity was mind-boggling, and the watchers thought they were looking into a rapidly turning kaleidoscope.
Finally the music came to a brilliant ending, and all the dancers leapt into the air and landed together, and then bowed as the audience jumped to its feet, clapping and whistling. And the cheering and clapping went on for what seemed like several long minutes.
But at long last everyone relaxed, and the dancers gathered around the edge of the floor, all save Liberty, who stood in the middle. She spoke once more.
“Thank you. When someone suggested that this celebration end with a prayer, I had to claim ignorance...” A number of people in the audience chuckled. “I sought out a friend, and my friend is someone who knows about such things far better than I do. He is also someone who is always there when I need him, and it would have been simply impossible for me to take my message to the other countries of the world without his love and support.”
She reached out a welcoming hand toward the passage where he was supposed to be waiting.
For a moment Shawn felt somewhat like he had at the arena in Birmingham... steeled for a confrontation. Then he reminded himself that it was his friend Liberty out there, his friend and first lover Liberty. He could do this for her, because of what she had given him, what she had risked with him.
He took a deep breath and walked out to join her.
They stood side by side and Liberty bowed her head. Shawn had been preparing for this moment for two weeks. He had not been asked to lead a prayer from his own religion, or for that matter from any other religion. He had been asked to do something he had never done before. It had taken plenty of consultation with Sister Lydia, Sister Maria, and several others.
Slowly he spread his arms, and then his soft voice filled the otherwise silent arena. “May the courage that has been shown by leaders and their helpers... all over the world in these recent days and years... remain forever in our minds as models of goodness. May the music we have heard... and the dances we have seen tonight... remain forever in our hearts as models of beauty. May we walk in peace together into the future... as we search for paths of truth that will guide our feet well. Good night... and good journey to you all.”
Liberty opened her eyes and waved to the audience, and Ashley, Tabitha and Sarah ran out and waved also. Shawn self-consciously added his gestures to theirs. A few more bunches of flowers came from the departing audience, and Sarah ran about waving at the people above. The general audience was filtering out the exit doors into the warm New York night, but the V.I.P. guests knew they were invited to meet the dancers, and most of them were eager.
As Liberty and Shawn were waving for about the last time, preparing to turn toward the reception, Liberty spoke softly so that only her religious friend could hear. “Do you know that your prayer was just seen and heard by more people than have ever seen your dad preach on T.V.?”
Shawn was very thoughtful — and more than a little amazed — for the rest of the evening.
While the dancers had been dancing and the audience had watched enchanted, others had been setting up tables full of tasty foods and beverages, putting up decorations, and posting security guards in the large practice room just outside the arena. When the performance was over, everything was ready.
Ashley ran across the floor and met the three people she had invited as they were coming down the steps from the seats above. They were moving
slowly, as if unsure they should be going to the reception.
“Hi Mom! Hi Dad! There are some wonderful people here I want to introduce you to!”
“But Honey, we don’t want to impose on all these important people,” her mother said in a hushed voice.
“You’re here by special invitation, just like they are. And you’re just as important to me as any ambassador or diplomat. Come on! There are lots of goodies waiting for us.”
Then, as she coaxed her parents across the dance floor toward the passage to the practice room, she fell in beside her third guest.
“Cheryl, I’m really glad you could come! Did you like it?”
“It was fantastic! I bet it was hard for you to hold yourself back and not try your elite skills.”
“Really hard, but my coach made me promise. Having Tabitha there to do them made it okay.”
“She’s
good!”
“Yeah. Can you come back to Lyceum with me?”
“Yep! For up to two weeks! Do I get to fly in an airliner again? Today was my first time.”
“Of course! We’re flying back tomorrow afternoon.”
They passed through the performers’ entrance tunnel, the curtains of which were open, and a pair of Lyceum security people observed them.
“Mom, Dad, this is Sister Hillary, and this is Brother LeRoy. And this is Cheryl Adams, who’s on the Olympics team with me.”
“Glad to meet you folks.”
They walked down a short corridor and entered the reception room where more than a hundred people were beginning to mill about and shake hands, sip juices and wines, and taste carefully prepared canapés while they discussed international politics and the beauty and skill of the dancers they had seen that evening. Most of the dancers had not yet entered the room.
“Over here!” Ashley said, pulling them along. “Ambassador Dubois, these are my parents, and this is my friend Cheryl Adams, another world-class gymnast.”
The French ambassador to the United Nations greeted them graciously,
and Cheryl blushed when he kissed her hand. They exchanged pleasantries and compliments about Ashley, and then said good-bye.
“And this is Secretary General Eskildsen.”
“I am so honored to meet you folks! Ashley is rapidly becoming known to the diplomatic community, and she is always welcome at the United Nations.
Is this a fellow future diplomat?” he asked, turning to greet Cheryl.
“I’m just a gymnast on the Olympic team, but I get to stay with Ashley for two weeks at Lyceum!”
“Well, well, being on an Olympic team makes you a bit of a diplomat already. And I’ve heard that wonderful things can happen when bright young people visit Lyceum!”
Both girls smiled.
Ashley introduced her guests to several people on the U.N. diplomatic staff, two more ambassadors, the Vice President of the United States, Brother Timoteo, and the director of the French dance company. He was especially cordial. They also renewed their acquaintance with Senator Buchanan, who reiterated that he would cover any and all surgery expenses.
Finally, Ashley said good-bye to her parents, as they had to get to the airport for a late flight home. They were very proud of their adopted daughter, and still a little in awe of her ability to invite them and have all their transportation and other expenses covered.
Ashley and Cheryl, along with Liberty and the other Lyceum members who were in New York, mingled and talked with the remaining reception guests until they had all taken leave of their hosts and returned to their homes or embassies. Then everyone pitched in, and Cheryl was amazed to see how quickly the entire arena was cleaned up.
It was after midnight when Ashley and her new friend arrived back at the large apartment. Ashley managed to find a place where they could put their sleeping bags side by side, and after saying good night to many people, they crawled in, yawning uncontrollably.
The last thing Ashley remembered was looking down the hall into the living room, and seeing Liberty and Jason sitting on one of the couches holding hands, and near them Sarah was sitting on the floor while Shawn sat
in a chair behind her running a comb through her hair. Ashley smiled, and then fell into a deep, restful sleep.