Miles for love series bo.., p.32
Miles for Love Series Box Set, page 32
The show starts with a short dance involving smaller children dressed in matching pink bodysuits. They are lively yet graceful; the dance is almost a cross between gymnastic routines and some ballet elements, with the kids separated into two groups that mesh together during specified times throughout the routine, but they all end up doing the same moves as they crescendo and come to a close. A large applause, a bow, and the young girls leave the stage in an organized fashion. Next, a group of slightly older girls arrive on stage, I’d say pre-teens if I were to guess. They each tactfully wind themselves around the pole individually, so the eye isn’t confused, and perform some of the most beautiful moves I’ve ever seen. The only way to describe it is to say that their performance is akin to what those small ballerina trinkets inside wind-up jewelry boxes do. Do you remember those from when you were a kid? Every little girl had one of those jewelry boxes where when you lift the lid, and the little ballerina does her dance.
That’s exactly what these little pole dancers look like. Winding gracefully around the bars, contorting themselves into impossible, pretzel-shaped configurations. Their little bodies look like they could break, but these girls don’t so much as break a sweat. Some turn on the pole so gracefully, you would think that they’d timed each revolution. Astounded, uplifted and mesmerized, I continue watching these young talents, when the music abruptly changes overhead, and the little dancers scurry, a little too uniformly and practiced, and that’s when I realize that it’s part of the act.
Interesting, the curtains open, the bars, which I now realize are props, and the other two poles, are removed by swift and discreet stage-hands, and two much larger, taller sets of poles appear behind the curtain area. Smoke and red laser lights are added for effect, when I see Aleks and a female partner emerge from each side of the stage. A brief applause ensues.
Aleks is in a pair of fitted jeans, a white tank top and his feet are bare, while his partner is in a pink tutu, a red and black corset, and she has a tall, red feather sticking out of her jet-black hair. She reminds me of Betty Boop in her outfit and stature. Short but lean. The tutu makes her rear end appear larger than it likely is, judging by how graceful she is from the moment she swings up on the pole, like she could do it in her sleep. The girl climbs to the top of the pole using small, choreographed moves, and then she swings around and around it, with just the insides of her knees making contact with the metal. She looks like a giant hair barrette clipped to the pole. I almost want to shout out for her to be careful, but I stop myself.
The music reminds me of the background audio in a cartoon about working in a factory. Whistles blow, metal bangs against metal, and a steam engine takes off; all odd sounds but in keeping with the tone of the vignette. The girl’s moves are sudden and measured, like a marionette. At one point I actually look above the stage to see if there is someone directing her movements with a long set of strings. She’s very realistic. As she swings around the pole, contorting her body into interesting positions, Aleks is on the floor, looking like he intends to catch her should she fall. I wonder when his part of the scene is coming…and then it does.
He climbs up on the pole with her as they combine their moves into one. His feet connect with hers, almost as if supporting her, but the effect is awe-inspiring. They turn on the pole in unison, flawlessly. When they change positions perfectly, so that she is all but hanging from one foot and he is supporting her with one hand, I have to stop myself from breaking into applause. This man has admirable talent. So does his partner. They then move into some sort of pyramid together on the pole, and I worry how they’re going to come out of it without simply jumping mid-air into the audience, but they move, one movement by one, as part of the routine, until first Aleks is off the pole, and then his partner.
He breaks into a triple back flip, twisting mid-air on the last flip, while she performs a hands-free cartwheel in the opposite direction from him. Just when I think that the performance is over, Aleks tears his tank top off and climbs on the pole by himself. First, he winds his way down the pole, using only the inside of his arm squeezed into his body as leverage. His body is in an L-shape as he slides around and around the pole, and then when he’s halfway down, he turns so one leg wraps around the pole, and he’s now using just the inside of his knee as a point of contact. I shake my head. I’ve never seen anything like it. He looks like the arm of an old record player as it makes revolutions around the turntable.
Almost at the bottom, he winds his body in a practiced move as part of the routine, back up the pole halfway, and then he crosses his legs Indian style, sliding down the pole around and around, on his back, horizontal, so his body is parallel to the floor, and the inside of his knee is the only point of contact. He’s effectively hanging from the pole, cross-legged, as he turns and turns all the way down. He’s so graceful. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like Cirque de Soleil but on a pole.
“Jesus, this is incredible.” Larissa says to me as the audience applauds.
“I know.” I shake my head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Me neither. I didn’t even know this existed.”
“Same here.”
After a few more routines with the younger crowd, and a comedian that I couldn’t understand, despite Larissa trying to rapidly translate—which was difficult, because the guy was obviously good as she couldn’t stop laughing—the show came to a close. “We should go to the museum portion. Aleks said to meet him there.” I explain as we make our way out the auditorium doors.
“He asked you to meet him?” Larissa is confused. “Doesn’t he have like a million things to do after the show?”
“He said there is usually a short press conference afterwards, but then he’s free.” I shrug. “Maybe we won’t see him, but I’d at least like to thank him again for the tickets. Even if I had to pay a couple hundred euro, it would have been well worth it.”
“True.”
Some of the artwork displayed is strange and obviously very interpretive, and I have a hard time appreciating it. A few are drawings of various monuments found in Russia, which are beautiful, but just as I’m getting Larissa to translate the explanations beside each of them, we hear the media assembling behind us. There are only a handful of people from the press, and when I see Aleks, dressed in a tasteful pair of dress pants and a linen shirt and tie, they start asking him a question each, which takes all of five minutes.
He sees me off in the distance and I wave to him. I’m surprised that nobody is trying to get his attention except me. “You don’t have a fan club?” I ask as he approaches us.
He smiles. “No. My family is here, but they are elsewhere right now. I will see them shortly.”
“Well, I’m your number one fan, then.” I say, shaking his hand and making the introductions. “That was incredible, Aleks. You’re so talented.”
“Thank you.” He says humbly, tipping his head slightly. “I am glad you enjoyed the show.”
“Oh, I did. That was lovely.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know guys did that. Well, I did, I just didn’t know that they could be that good at it.” Larissa comments.
“It has taken some time to practice, and many bruises, but yes, I can do this.”
“I’ll say. Good for you.” I want to say more, I’m so awestruck, but I don’t want him to think that I haven’t been outside my own doorstep, other than to see a movie or two, in six years, even though it’s the truth.
“You are too kind.” He says. “I do not want to keep you two. I am sure you have some sightseeing to do.”
“Not really, actually.” Larissa says. “I’m beat.”
“You must be exhausted, too.” I say to Aleks. “You had a full day and then this performance.”
“I am used to it.” He says earnestly.
“Yeah, well, I’m not.” Larissa comments. “Do you mind if we get out of here?”
“Sure.” I say to Larissa, and then I look at Aleks. “Thank you so much for the tickets…again. I made a healthy donation and I hope it’s enough to cover the cost of the tickets.”
“Oh, you did not have to do that, but thank you anyway. That is very generous.” Aleks says, and then he surprises me by bending down and kissing me on both cheeks. For a moment, I think it’s inappropriate, and then I see him doing the same to Larissa. And I remember that it’s the European thing.
“It was so nice to meet you.” He says to Larissa.
She says something to him in Russian and he responds with a smile but says nothing. As we leave, I pull on her arm. “What did you say to him in Russian?”
“Just a Russian proverb.”
“Well…what is it?”
She gives me a look that is so transparent I call her on it. “Lie. What did you say to him?”
“Some day…I’ll tell you.”
“That day is today. Tell me.” I say, feigning irritation. Larissa loves to wind me up sometimes.
“Mal, just let it go. It was no big deal.”
But later, much later, I find out that it was a big deal. A very big deal.
Chapter 9
Aleks
As much as I love competing and performing when I do, it is the day after that I look forward to. Tonight, I have the night off. After months of practicing after work for last night’s performance, I get to sit back and relax tonight. The thought makes me smile. Knowing me, though, I will end up researching something new and giving it a try. That is how I work. I love trying new things and mastering them, then getting versed enough that I can compete. That is how I have become so seasoned in many things. It is what keeps me young. It is what keeps my background fresh and robust, and it is what keeps my livelihood noteworthy.
If Egor were inside my head right now, he would add that having different talents is also a babe magnet, but that is him, not me. When he and I modeled together, his ego was unfathomable. Let me be clear; we did not actually model ‘together’. We joined the same agency. He had his projects and I had mine. There was one photo shoot that included us, but we were never shot together. We have also been part of the same talent agency at one point in time. Many years ago, we had a part-time business that was run by a talent agency. Me, Egor and another friend of ours that we keep in touch with from time-to-time— Lars—booked several events where we would entertain various groups with acrobatics, stunts, dancing, and sometimes a little racy stuff that some would describe as stripping, but it was more just removing clothing and performing acts. There were no lewd moves or inappropriate touching, or any touching at all for that matter. That business ended when I began competing in fitness, aerial and gymnastics competitions. Also when my student load at the gymnastics school became too heavy to keep up.
Where there was once a plethora of fresh bruises from practicing aerial moves, are now firm, strong patches of skin, ready to be abused. My body is a battlefield of scars masquerading as calluses, over layers of muscle now. My chest and back are itchy from shaving for last night’s show. It is not easy turning my stereotypical Latvian body into a smooth, attractive artful piece, but I do it, time and time again. I am proud to do it. I am also happy when I can let go and be myself, too. It is a strange balance, my life and my livelihood.
As I walk into the gym after teaching morning classes at the gymnastics school, Tatjana tells me that I have a new client coming in at one o’clock. I am pleased to see that it is Mallorie. If only I could learn how to properly pronounce her name. When I hear Tatjana struggle, I smile. The flat ‘a’ and ‘r’ sounds are difficult. I end up rolling the ‘r’ and the ‘a’ sounds more like ‘o’.
I am so glad Mallorie and her friend Larissa enjoyed last night’s show. A couple of colleagues from the gym attended, too, and I received some nice accolades this morning. Many of them did not stay to speak with me afterwards. But when I win a competition, they are there to congratulate me. Egor sees me and comes over to give me a high five. “Sorry I could not make it last night.” He says. “Had some other stuff going on.”
“That is okay. I understand.”
“How did it go?” he asks, as we walk into the weight room together.
“Very well. I am feeling it today, but it was worth it.”
“Good. Did you get lots of donations?”
“Probably. They have not shared the final numbers with us yet.”
“I donated a chunk.” Egor says, trying not to sound trite for not being there.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He pauses. “So, what is on the agenda today?”
“I have a new client arriving any minute.”
“Good stuff.”
I see the front doors open, and Tatjana motions to me that my client is here. “And here she is now.”
Walking over to Mallorie, I remember how pretty she looked last night. Her curly hair was done up off her shoulders, and the dress…wow. So simple yet so beautiful. Some girls shock me. You have some with long, painted nails and bleached hair with false lashes that rock that look, while others, with plain, wholesome traits that suit them just as well. Mallorie is the simple type.
“Nice to see you again.” I greet her, giving her a kiss on either side of her cheek. She does the same, but I can tell by the look on her face, that she is just getting used to the sentiment.
“Nice to see you, too.” She smiles.
I lead her into the weight room. “Did you get to see any sights yet today?”
“The same as yesterday. I walked here again. The walk is long but so beautiful.” She says honestly.
“Good.” I clap my hands together once. “We should start by formulating a plan. That is usually what I do with clients. This way we can ensure that your goals are met, and that the money that you spend gets put to good use.” I pause. “Come, let us go over to one of the quieter rooms so we can review your needs.”
“Okay, sounds good.” She says, carrying her small backpack behind her. We head into a small room at the back of the yoga room, and I boot up the computer. “There is a short questionnaire that I will ask you to complete. It will not take more than two minutes.”
“Okay.”
Once the computer is ready, we trade seats and she completes it. “Normally I would email it to you, so it is done ahead of time, but I did not know until I arrived that you were coming in.”
“That’s okay.”
“So you have decided to come for the full two weeks?” I clarify, checking her answers to the questionnaire on my cell phone.
“Yes. I figure Larissa is going to be busy every day until almost dinner time.”
I’m confused. “She lives here? She is not on vacation?”
“She is, but she has to go to church every day.” I explain to him what happened with the confirmation papers.
“You are a good friend to her.” I state.
“Thanks. She’s good to me, too.” She says, smiling warmly.
“Okay.” I say with a tone that means that we are going to get down to business. “You want to work the abs first?”
“Sure.”
“Follow me.”
I lead her into the main workout room. There are a few other people working out alone, but it is generally quiet at this time of day. A woman on a treadmill with her earbuds in, a man on the bench press, and another man off to the side, doing crunches…all wrong, by the way. I have to stifle myself often with this job, otherwise I would be constantly telling people how they are going to hurt themselves.
“We will start with lunges.” I say, pulling two mats out from a pile stacked against the wall.
“For abs?” she queries.
“You do lunges correctly, it works a battery of muscles, including abs.” I clarify.
After doing a lunge with her, I have to show her how to adjust her seat, so she gets the most from the lunge. “Come down a little lower.”
She does, but then her knees are wrong. “Pull them further apart like this.”
Her back is not right. “Navel to spine.” I instruct, pulling my shirt up, so she can see that my abs are flattened by my stance. She looks briefly and I notice that her face turns pink. “I am sorry. I did not mean to embarrass you.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” She smiles sheepishly. “I’ve just…never seen a six pack up close before.”
“Oh,” I smile. “I see them every day. It is nothing to me.”
“Then you don’t want to see my stomach.” She guffaws.
“Show me.” I say, as we finish the last repetition.
Her t-shirt is loosely fitting and covers all the way below her waist. “I’ve had a child, Aleks. Trust me, mine looks nothing like yours.”
“From what I understand, you work out regularly. It cannot be that bad.” I encourage. “Show me.”
“Promise not to laugh?”
“I am a professional.” I nod once.
She lifts her shirt, revealing a flat stomach. The skin is smooth and supple looking. Had I not known that she had a child I never would have guessed. “You have beautiful abs.” I say matter-of-factly.
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “You’re a great liar.”
I look at her sincerely. “I do not lie. I am being honest.” She looks at me for a second, searching my eyes. “In fact, to be honest, I cannot pronounce your name properly, which is why I have not addressed you by name.”
“How would you pronounce it in Russian?”
“Malloriya.”
“Well, that’s very close. It sounds a little different and has two extra syllables.” She frowns. “You can call me that if it’s easier for you.”
“If that is okay.”
“Works for me.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles. “Now, show me how to get six pack abs, before I go back to babushka’s house and pound back a cheesecake.”
I laugh out loud. Her sense of humor is so nice.
“You think I’m joking?” she laughs. “You have no idea, Aleks. My life turned to crap just before I left home to come here. I haven’t seen my kid in almost a week, I’m stuck here with no chaperone, left to my own resources, in a country where I don’t speak the language. Then I end up at a gym, with Adonis-like physiques, that make me look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy…you think I’m joking?” another laugh. “Hell, I’m dead serious.”
