Intertwined

I flip through the program for the 95th annual Southern Belles National Dance Competition. There’s my little girl’s name under the lyrical solo’s: Bella Franklin. There are only two names above hers, but I know the other girls she is competing against well. This competition won’t be easy.
Alaina Windsor, Bella’s first opponent is the daughter of a Virginia lawyer. It’s obvious that Daddy pays off the judges because Alaina always wins everything even though her technique is ten times worse than Bella’s. Hopefully today the judges won’t fall for his dirty tricks.
Her other opponent, McKinnley Smudge, makes me sick. The child should be called McKinnley Pudge. The child is only eight and weighs at least 100 pounds. Judges either score her low for her weight or extremely high because they feel sorry for her. I guess since she made it to national there were a lot of sympathetic judges.
I put my program down as the emcee calls Bella’s number. Bella comes onstage in a blue dress, her brown hair spilling from her head in lose ringlets. She looks so grown up, and I have to fight the urge to sob hysterically. As her music begins she completes four, crisp, sharp turns. He lines are beautiful and her acting superb as she tells the story of a lost little girl trying to find her way home. When she completes her last leap, the audience bursts into applause. I squeeze my husband’s hand so hard he winces in pain.
“Gee, Amanda,” he says, but I know he doesn’t mean it. From the way he is smiling and screaming Bella’s name I know we are both thinking the same thing; Bella is going to be the next national champion.
I wait in the audience as the emcee takes the envelope from the judge. In just a few minutes I will know if my daughter is national champion. In my mind it is clear that Alaina was the best. Alaina has the most experience out of all the girls, which makes her technique stronger. Her lines were clean, her feet were pointed, her turns were sharp. I can see no way the judges made any deductions. Bella wobbled on at least three of her turns, and the Smudge girl…I admire her confidence and work ethic, but the girl just isn’t a dancer. With her body she will never be cast in a show. Her parents could help her out and put her on a diet, but if you look at her mom you know that’s never going to happen.
I brush my thoughts away as the lights in the room dim and the emcee walks over to the microphone.
“Third place in our lyrical category goes to…Bella Franklin,” he announces.
My stomach starts to fill with butterflies. There is no way Smudge beat Alaina; I’m surprised she even beat Bella. My daughter is about to become a national champion.
“Second place in the lyrical category goes to…”
“McKinnley Smudge,” I mouth feeling like the emcee was pausing for far too long.
“Alaina Windsor,” the emcee announces, and my jaw drops to the floor.
Alaina, second? I watched Smudge, and she was nowhere near Alaina’s level. The judges just want the fat little girl to feel good about herself.
“This is bullshit,” I scream making sure the judges, the emcee, and the little Smudge girl hear me. I storm out of the auditorium not even bothering to hear the emcee announce the first place winner.
I hold my daughter tightly against my chest trying to top the tears that flow down her face.
“Shh, you were the best one out there, baby. Don’t let them take this win away from you,” I tell McKinnley, but the tears won’t stop flowing.
Why can’t they just let her win? If Bella or Alaina had won, McKinnley would be cheering for them. She looks up to those girls and respects them as her biggest competitors. She should be proud she beat two very talented dancers, but she can’t be proud because no one will look past her appearance.
“I swear I’d punch Elizabeth Windsor if she wasn’t a woman,” my husband, Mark mutters beside me.
“Let’s not sink to her level,” I whisper back as I pick McKinnley up and walk out of the auditorium towards the parking lot. On our way out we pass Bella Franklin, and her mom, Amanda. Bella is crying her eyes out because she finished third. With venom in her eyes, Amanda looks at me and says, “It’s okay, Bella, at least you’ll love longer because you’re not obese.”
As McKinnley starts to howl on my shoulder, I rush even faster towards the parking lot. Snow is falling everywhere, and I have to be careful not to slip on the ice that has formed on the black asphault. I load McKinnley into the car as Mark takes his seat behind the wheel.
Slowly we drive toward the Coleman Bridge in silence. Having been in McKinnley’s position, I know there is nothing we can say to take the hurt away. No matter how much we tell McKInnley she is beautiful, she will never believe it as long as people like Elizabeth Windsor and Amanda Franklin exist in the world.
I feel our car struggle to get good traction as we cross onto the Coleman Bridge.
“Slow down,” I yell at Mark, but it’s already too late. Before I have time to scream, our car hits a patch of ice and starts to spin into the lane of ongoing traffic.
“Mom, why did you say that to McKinnley?” Bella asks me as we make our way to the dressing room to pick up her dance bag.
“Because honey, she doesn’t deserve to win. She only wins because the judges feel sorry for her,” I reply. For some reason my daughter’s question make me feel uncomfortable. I wish she could understand how she was just cheated out of a win so we could vent our anger together. When she questions me like this, I feel as if I have done something wrong.
“I think she did deserve to win, Mom,” says Bella as she tilts her head to the side. “She’s a lot better than me.”
“No, she’s not,” I find myself screaming. “You are more beautiful and more talented! Don’t you even think about comparing yourself to her!”
Bella looks like she’s about to cry as she grabs her dance bag and starts walking towards the car. James just shakes his head at me as he scopes her into his arms and fastens her into her booster seat. The snow is coming down hard, but James is barreling through traffic like a madman. I know he’s angry with me for yelling at Bella, but she’s just so young and naïve. I wish I could make her understand.
We have just crossed onto the Coleman Bridge when I hear the sound of screeching tires. All of a sudden I see a van in front of us hit a patch of ice and start spinning towards us. James tries to swerve to avoid the van, but the sides of the bridge restrict his movements. The van stops spinning as it collides with our right rear door where Bella is sitting.
“Mom, I can’t believe you did that. It was so embarrassing,” Alaina says with a horrorstricken face as she recounts me screaming and marching out of the auditorium.
“Me standing up for you is embarrassing?” I ask angrily as I drive towards the Coleman Bridge.
“There was nothing to stand up for Mom. It was a dance competition, and she beat me. She’s a really good dancer. You just don’t like her because she’s fat.”
I spin around in my seat to face my daughter. I couldn’t believe she just said that. I admired that little girl for what she did. No I didn’t think she should be dancing, but that’s not why I was angry. I was angry that she beat Alaina when Alaina had better technique. I wasn’t angry because Alaina was thinner or prettier. How dare my twelve year old say that to me?
“You will not speak to me like that young lady. I don’t care what size that little girl is. ..”
“Mom, watch out,” Alaina screams at me, cutting me off midsentence. I turned my eyes back on the road to see two cars colliding right in front of us. I try slamming on the breaks, but the slippery bridge caused the car to lurch forward. I feel the SUV start to tilt, and then we are rolling one, two, three times before we came to a stop and my world erupted into darkness.
I pace the waiting room waiting to hear news from the doctor. Bella’s been in surgery for three hours to try to repair the damage done to her heart in the accident. James and I walked away without a scratch, but Bella was sitting against the door that made full impact with the Smudges’ van. Those damn Smudges are always ruining our lived. If Bella doesn’t make it out of this, it will be their fault.
After another hour, Dr. Becker finally enters the waiting room.
“Unfortunately, the damage is too extensive. There’s nothing we can do,” says Dr. Becker.
“What do we do now?” I asked trying not to get frantic. There had to be some other option. We couldn’t just sit around and watch Bella die.
“She needs a new heart. We could put her on the transplant list, but she doesn’t have that much time. There is a little girl here who is a match though. If her parents agree, we could do the transplant.”
“Can we talk to her parents?” I asked. If this was the only way to keep Bella alive I would beg and plead. Hell, I would fight to the death to make this transplant happen.
“Of course, their name is Smudge, room 1348.”
I felt my heart sink to the floor. Just hours ago, I had called their daughter obese. Just minutes ago, I had wanted to blame them if Bella died. How was I going to convince them to donate their daughter’s heart to Bella?
With a sigh I found the elevator and took it with James to the first floor. I knew this task wasn’t going to be easy, but I had to try for Bella. Maybe if I let James do all the talking they’d agree to the transplant.
As we knocked on the door, Mark motioned for us to enter. McKinnley was hooked up to life support, and from the flat waves of the monitor we knew that she was brain dead. Looking over at Casey, I could see that she was barely hanging on. I suddenly wished I could take back every awful thing I had ever said to her and McKinnley, not just for Bella, but because it was just so wrong. Some of the last words that little girl heard were me calling her obese. She didn’t deserve that.
Sinking to my hands and knees I wrapped Casey in a hug.
“I am so sorry,” I said through my hysterics. “ I never meant to hurt your daughter.”
Casey said nothing but just hugged me back as we cried together. I heard James explaining the situation about Bella’s heart to Mark. I could tell from Mark’s voice that he already knew what he wanted to do. Now all we had to do was convince Casey.
“We need some time to think,” said Casey when she finally let me go.
“Of course,” I said as I used the back of my hand to dry my eyes. I only hoped that Casey thought my apology was sincere, and that she thought quickly enough to be able to save Bella.

“Both her kidneys were crushed in the accident. She needs a kidney transplant,” said Dr. Weaver as he looked at me gravely.
“Am I a match?” I asked, knowing I would gladly give one of my kidneys without hesitation.
“No,” answered Dr. Weaver sadly.
“What about dialysis?”
“It’s a temporary solution to a permanent problem, and in her case it probably wouldn’t be enough. There is a little girl in this hospital who is a perfect match. If you can convince her parents to donate it might just save Alaina. Her name is McKinnley Smudge.”
“I can’t do it,” I screamed. “They don’t deserve it! Besides she could still wake up!”
“Casey,” Mark said as he took me in his arms. “You heard what the doctors said. She’s brain dead, a vegetable, she’s not waking up.”
“But she could,” I pleaded. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t give up on my baby. I couldn’t let them cut her open and take out her heart and kidneys. She had been fighting all her life; she could fight this.
“No, Casey. Casey, if we don’t help them we’re going to lose three little girls. We wanted them to look past McKinnley’s appearance and love her for who she is. Let’s look past these little girls’ mothers and choose to love them.
McKinnley looked up to those girls. Let’s make her a part of their lives forever.”
It’s the day of the 96th annual Southern Belles National Dance Competition. Bella and Alaina are set to perform against each other, and I know the claws are about to come out. Even though the moms tell me how sorry they are, how grateful they are for my daughter, I know they haven’t changed. But I didn’t save Alaina and Bells for their moms, although I hope they never have to know the pain of losing a child. I saved them so they could live the life my daughter never got to live. I saved them so that every time they went to judge someone by their appearance they would remember the part of my daughter inside them.
AS the lights dim, I expect to see Bella come on stage for her solo, but instead I see both her and Alaina walk on stage together.
“Performing to a duet together are number 237 and 238, Bella and Alaina, with a piece titled McKinnley.”
As the music starts I notice the song is the same one McKinnley danced to last year. The routine is also the same one McKinnley won the national title with. I’m surprised that Elizabeth and Amanda actually agreed to let their daughters dance together. Other than their children, I know that having their daughter win a national title is among their top priorities. However, I am able to push this thought aside and focus on the beauty of the dance. I cry the whole way through it, remembering how McKinnley made each turn and planted each step. Seeing the two of them dance together with her heart and her kidneys inside them almost makes it seem like she is still here with us. I know she’s in a much better place, but I know her memory will always live on as long as Alaina and Bella are on this earth.
When it’s time for the winners to be announced of course Bella and Alaina come in first and are crowned national champions. The emcee announced their names when I see Elizabeth and Amanda stand up in the back row.
“Bullshit,” they scream together. “For a second year in a row the national champion in McKinnley Smudge.”