Competitor I: Come on now; don't be nervous.
Competitor II: You can do this, you can do this!
Competitor III: Breathe in ... breathe out … breathe in ...
It's the moment before the finals. The preparation room is filled with anxious voices.
Coach: Everything alright?
Charlotte: I'm fine, Coach.
Charlotte: Sulis responded to my prayers again yesterday.
Coach: And?
She looks at her intently.
Charlotte: This time, she took me to the heart of a forest. The leaves there had spots all over them, like eyes. They were watching me, just like you are now, without blinking.
Charlotte: I also heard a woman's voice. She was singing a slow song, something like ...
Charlotte: I can't quite remember the words.
Coach: ...
Charlotte: But I remember the rhythm.
She jumps up and moves in time to it.
Charlotte: Healing Sulis, shining Sulis, holy Sulis, to us, you tell.
Charlotte: Do you know it? The grass there sparkled. If I stayed too long on it, the little blades of grass would pinch me.
Charlotte: All I could do was dance, dance, and keep dancing.
Charlotte: So, I suppose witches weren't necessarily all burned at the stake. Maybe they just stepped on that kind of grass, you know?
She leaps high into the air and lands steadily.
Charlotte: Every time I jump, my shadowless friend lifts me just like this.
Energy flows around her, rustling her hair and leotard.
Coach: Keep dancing, just like this.
Coach: If you make it to the end of this path, you'll snatch the sun right out of the sky.
Coach: Don't be nervous, Charlotte. Just treat it like any ordinary practice session.
Charlotte: Nervous?
The girl looks at her palms to find a faint shimmer of sweat.
Charlotte: I'm not nervous, Coach.
She lifts her head and gazes at the sun shining in the distance.
Coach: ...
That shining golden sun.
Willow: ...
And behind it, those dark and boundless shadows.
*ring-ring-ring*
The doorbell interrupts her reminiscence.
Willow: You've got the day wrong, girl.
She hobbles to the door and opens it with force.
Willow: Today isn't snail day—
Willow: What are you doing here?!
The visitor before her comes as a surprise.
Caroline Bartley: Charlotte, I have some news I simply must tell you. You'll be utterly delighted to hear it, I'm sure.
Willow: What?
Caroline Bartley: The Foundation has decided that they'll let you participate in the competition ... as a special athlete.
Caroline Bartley: You can return to the floor again!
She chatters on.
Willow: Get out!
Caroline Bartley: Why?
Willow: Oh, you want to know why?
She sneers through gritted teeth.
Willow: What is that you want? You wonder why I don't want to stroke your ego? To pump air into your already overinflated head?!
Willow: You're just here to brag about your achievements!
Willow: Then, congratulations! You've done the job!
Willow: Are you satisfied, Caroline? I'm a cripple—a failure. Not your competition, but the object of your pity. That's what you wanted, right?
Caroline Bartley: I'd never thought of it that way.
She wants to argue, but in this moment, a word of comfort cuts sharper than any blade.
Willow: As if they'd invite me to perform in an "exhibition," like I'm some kind of monkey to be gawked at in a zoo. It's ridiculous!
Willow: Do I have to tell you it all, Caroline? How awful my life has been all these years? How people hate me? How my body has failed me?!
Willow: Does it satisfy your ego?
Willow: I don't want to see you ever again!
Caroline Bartley: Charlotte!
COMBAT
A document falls to the ground. It bears the logo of the St. Pavlov Foundation.
Willow: This is ...
She unfolds the document.
Willow: "Regarding the Decision on the Participation of Ms. Charlotte O'Hagan ..."
Willow: "Upon careful consideration and evaluation, we hereby consent to Ms. Charlotte O'Hagan competing as a Floor Ritualist in the finals of the Uluru Games."
Willow: What's the meaning of this?
She looks at Caroline in disbelief.
Caroline Bartley: Perhaps I didn't make myself clear, but ...
Caroline Bartley: You're an athlete, not a performer. You won't be competing in an "exhibition." Nothing has changed, Charlotte.
Caroline holds Willow's trembling hands in her own.
Caroline Bartley: I look forward to seeing you on the floor.