Alvin's Dance with Cinderella

The Chipmunks and Chipettes (c) Bagdasarian Productions
Claire, David and AJ (c) KicsterAsh

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Claire sat patiently on the stool in front of the giant mirror in her parents’ room, waiting for her mother to come and brush her hair. Tonight, the Sevilles were going to the opening night of the new release of the latest album The Chipmunk had put together. The children didn’t often go, considering they were still too young to even cross the street, but tonight was special, and Alvin, Simon and Theodore wanted the whole family to be there.

Claire was already dressed in her pretty pink dress that Brittany had bought her a few weeks ago. It had a dark pink ribbon that wrapped around the waist and a pretty white one that was supposed to go in her hair. It came with white nylon socks and little pale pink dance shoes. Claire loved this dress, only because of one reason: her daddy said she looked even better than any princess in the whole world.

Claire was proud to be her daddy’s little girl. She was only five, and she already felt like it was her duty to be her father’s pride and joy. Unlike David. David was Mama’s boy. He was more attached to his mother than his father, but both twins had come to the conclusion that when it came to fun, their dad was the one to go see.

Brittany came back into the room with a bottle of hair spray in her hands and she placed it on the desk as she reached for the hot curling iron. “Okay, Sweetie, let me know if I accidentally burn you, okay?” Brittany asked calmly, grabbing a bit of her daughter’s golden brown hair.

“Okay,” Claire replied in her tiny voice. She played with the doll she had in her hands, brushing its hair and telling it the same thing her mother had just told her.

They did not speak for a while. Brittany hummed the tune of I’ll be There for You as she curled Claire’s hair, her hips swaying from side to side to the rhythm of the song. She was wearing the beautiful, glimmering pink dress Alvin had bought her last time they went to visit Spike and the others in Hearttropolis. Brittany had taken it gladly, without too much of a big fuss, but she had been extremely happy that Alvin had bought her such a beautiful dress. She had learned to keep her excitement levels down, and most of the time, when she received gifts, she smiled politely, said, “Thank you” or “It’s very beautiful”, and then shrug before giving the person a hug; this sometimes had the people around her wondering and worrying if she even liked the gift she got. Alvin was probably the only one who knew Brittany’s ways inside out; the sparkle in her sky-blue eyes always gave away her happiness, and even though Brittany would simply shrug and say, “It’s nice, thank you”, Alvin knew that she was really trying to keep herself from screaming like a little girl and jumping into that person’s arms.

“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Claire asked after a moment, plucking Brittany from her daydreaming.

Brittany finished curling some strands of hair and then grabbed a few more before answering. “He’s gone to get the limo with your uncles, Clarice,” she replied. “I already told you that.”

“But I thought he’d be back by now.”

“Well, they also had to go pick up you grandfather. You wouldn’t want him missing the show, now would you?”

“I guess not,” Claire replied softly, looking down at her doll again. She was silent for a moment before looking at her mother through the mirror again. “Is Daddy sick?” she asked again.

These words took Brittany by surprise. She stopped curling her girl’s hair for a moment, and then continued. “No,” she said, unsure. “Why do you think so?”

“Because he looked sick when he came back from work today,” Claire answered, playing with the hair of her red-headed doll. “He was walking really slow and he looked a little like if he was carrying something really heavy when he walked. And his eyes had those dark lines under them. What are they called again?”

“Bags or dark circles, usually, but there are other names for them,” Brittany replied. She sighed as she finished curling her daughter’s hair. “Your daddy is just tired, Claire. He’s been working very hard lately on the new album he and your uncles put together.”

“But why does he look more tired than Uncle Simon and Uncle Theodore? They don’t look tired.”

“They’re better at covering it up.”

“But that’s not a good reason.”

Brittany sighed and began to tie the white ribbon in Claire’s hair. “Your dad’s more stubborn than your uncles are, that’s why,” she said, barely moving her lips. “His stubbornness will have an effect on his mood, too, Claire.”

“What’s stubbornness?”

“It’s like a rock. You tell it to move but it won’t. Try telling your daddy one day not to work so hard. He’s like a rock; he won’t listen and he’ll keep working hard. That’s stubbornness.”

Claire giggled. “You mean like David?” she said, smiling up at her mother.

Brittany laughed softly. “Alright, like your brother,” she agreed. She finished tying the ribbon in a bow and then put some hair spray in Claire’s hair. “Oooookay, Girlie. You’re all ready to go,” Brittany said with a sigh, as Claire jumped off of the stool. “Did you wanna bring your doll with you?”

Claire shook her head, her white ribbon flapping in the breeze. “No, but can I bring my crown?” she asked, pointing at her head. She had not forgotten about the beautiful silver crown her parents got her for her birthday.

Brittany smiled and crossed her arms. “Okay,” she said, as Claire ran out of the room to fetch her crown.

The little chipette ran as quickly as her little legs could go down the hall, to the room she and David shared. The room beside belonged to AJ, but the little two year old still slept in a crib because he was so small. Claire placed her doll neatly on the pillow of her bed and then ran to her dresser where the silver crown sat. Its plastic jewels shimmered in the stray rays of the setting sun, giving it the illusion of being made of diamonds. Claire smiled happily and reached up on her tippy toes to grab it, and then ran out of the room to the stairs. She wanted her daddy to put it on her head.

As she began to descend the carpeted stairs, the sound of the front door was heard opening and closing rather quickly, followed by a loud SLAM!! Claire stopped in her tracks and slowly descended a few more steps before stopping and sitting down, close enough to hear voices and far enough not to be seen.

The door opened again and closed, only much softer. The sound of two more people walking into the house, probably wearing sneakers, by the sound of it, and the sound of tiny patted feet scurrying across the wooden floor told Claire that the two who had just entered the house were undoubtedly her uncles, followed by Mia, Theodore’s strange little pet. The footsteps walked off a few ways, and so Claire decided to walk down a few more steps and stop at the bottom, still out of sight by the grownups in the living room to the right of the stairs.

“Alvin, you’re overreacting,” came a quiet voice, no doubt belonging to her uncle Theodore.

“Overreacting? Overreacting?!” a second voice snapped immediately after the first one had hardly even finished speaking. “What do you mean I was overreacting?!”

“You nearly looked like you were ready to clobber the guy, for Pete’s sake!”

“That’s not overreacting, Theodore; that’s ready to give that idiot what he deserved!”

Claire didn’t like hearing her uncles fight with her daddy; it scared her. They were always happy together. She shook aside a cold shiver and leaned her head against the wooden railing of the stairs.

“Alvin, all he said was that he wouldn’t be able to lend a limo, that’s it,” a third voice said gently, although a little louder than the first. It was a tad lower than the two other voices, and Claire immediately matched it to her Uncle Simon.

“Didn’t you even hear what he said, Simon?” Alvin said coldly in return. “He said he wouldn’t lend a limo to a bunch of weirdoes!” The sound of a fist slamming against the wall made even the stairs shake and made the whine glasses in the cabinet nearby shake and ring ever so slightly. “He had some nerve saying that in front of my face!”

“He was probably drunk.”

“Drunk?! Are you really that blind, Simon?! Or deaf?! He wasn’t drunk, and he sure didn’t sound drunk to me! His words came out as crystal clear as that stupid glass sculpture at the record studio!”

“Alvin, calm down,” Theodore asked quietly.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Theodore!”

“We’ll just get to the hall in our own car, Alvin,” Simon suggested.

“Simon, I don’t care how we get to the stupid hall!” Alvin yelled furiously. His voice started to crack, like if he was trying hard not to cry. “What matters is that he said those things about six inches from our faces!” There was a slight pause for a few milliseconds.

“Hey, hey, HEY!!” Theodore shouted in surprise. “Don’t punch a hole in the wall, Alvin! We just got this room rebuilt!”

“Let go!”

“Alvin, just try to forget what he said,” Simon asked, although it seemed like his voice was a little reluctant.

“Forget it?!?!” Alvin yelled back. It was now clear to Claire that her father was on the verge of falling to tears. There was a muffled noise of struggling before he spoke again. “Simon he deliberately called us freaks because we’ve got these silly gifts! Ever since we used them to straighten out time with Spike and Buzz, people have been looking at us like if we’re from some other planet! I know Spike said that we would get looks like that, just because in this time, people didn’t often meet other people who had super strength, or could speak to plants, or could move things with their minds! In Hearttropolis, about five hundred years from now, it’s normal! If you walk down the streets in that city, and you accidentally move a garbage can through the air with only your brain, people jump back in surprise, sprout an amused smile, tilt their hats at you and then keep walking their way. But here, in the 1990s, people don’t do that, because there are still a bunch of Humans and Cartoons who have problems with each other! And having powers makes you a bad guy! The awkward looks, I can take; but not the insults! I just can’t handle that! The only reason most of the people treat us nicely is because we’re The Chipmunks! They don’t want to loose their favorite singers! The record company doesn’t want us to stop making them money! But if we use our gifts out in public, we get the weirdo look, and then people like that idiot with the limos decide to just say it up front, and not let us have certain things because we’re different!”

Claire hugged her knees as she listened to her father yell through tears. She was only five years old, but she understood every word she had just heard. And it scared her. She knew her daddy had a special talent; she had seen him use it before. Even her mommy had a special talent, one that made her look prettier than all the ladies on magazines. In fact, every one of her uncles and aunties had a special talent. But this had scared her. She didn’t know that people looked at them funny because they had those talents. She had always thought they made her family special… But maybe they didn’t think so.

The silence that followed was long and hard to take, like holding your breath under water and just waiting for someone to fish you out before your lungs burst. Claire heard nothing for a long time, but she knew that the conversation was not finished.

After a few long minutes of silence, where it seemed like the whole house and all the people in it were playing a part in the silence, there was a muffled noise of someone letting some sort of clothing go, and then the sound of someone sitting down on the couch. The couch always made a springy noise when someone sat in it.

The sound of a loud and heavy sigh followed. “I’m sorry, I just need to be alone for a minute,” came Alvin’s voice, although this time it did not sound upset and loud; it was soft, quiet, shaky and very sad.

There was no reply, only the sounds of approaching footsteps and little padded feet.

Claire sat up straight, just as her Uncles Simon and Theodore came walking around the corner and up the stairs. Simon was straightening his blue sweater, the one he wore when they performed in front of people – it looked like someone had just grabbed the sweater really hard and twisted it around their grasp – and he was wearing the usual dark blue jeans and red sneakers that went with it. Theodore had his green hoodie on and the same pair of jeans, only in a larger size, and dark blue sneakers. Both pairs of eyes seemed to be covered by invisible clouds, and no spark of life filled them. They simply walked passed their niece and up to the second floor. Theodore rubbed Claire’s head as they passed by, and Mia, coming up in the rear, squeaked softly, rubbed his head against Claire’s dress, and then trotted up, following his master.

Claire watched them until they disappeared above her, and then turned to look at the door again. She played with her fingers for a minute, wondering what she should do, and then stood up. She took a deep breath, and while holding it, she walked down the stairs and around the corner. She let her breath go, and then walked towards the living room while sliding against the wall.

She slowly placed her hands on the side of the opposite wall and then timidly peeked into the large living room. It was dark, despite the orange sky outside; the blinds had been pulled over the windows. There was the large flat screen TV, the couch that went around the wall and in front of the TV, the cabinet full of movies and TV shows and video games, and then the smaller couch that was only big enough to fit two people. On the wall above this couch, Claire could see a round, shallow dent, almost unnoticeable, and beneath that, sitting on the couch, was Alvin. He had his face buried in his hands, and his back crouched over his legs so that his elbows could rest on his knees. He, like his brothers, was wearing the usual sweater he wore for concerts, and the same jeans and blue sneakers. But he was not wearing his cap. This was sitting on the couch beside him, as though waiting patiently for its wearer to place it back on his head.

Claire looked at her father in silence, and guessed that he had not heard her come in. She heard him take a deep and troubled breath, and then dared to walk into the living room to him.

She stood a few feet in front of Alvin, and still, the chipmunk had not heard her arrival. Claire swayed back and forth on her little toes, the end of her dress swaying with the motion of her legs, and then she opened her mouth. “Daddy?” she said softly.

Alvin finally made a move, and looked at his daughter through his fingers. “Not now, Claire,” he said behind his hands before closing his fingers together again.

“Why are you crying?”

“Daddy’s not crying,” Alvin replied through the lump in his throat, although the sound of his voice gave away the truth. “Daddy’s just tired.”

“Why are you tired, then?”

Alvin sighed sadly and shook his head. “Clarice, Daddy doesn’t want to talk about it, okay?” he said with great difficulty. He took another troubled breath before continuing. “He just needs to be alone for a little.”

“Are you mad?” Claire continued her investigation.

Alvin tried not to groan. “Claire, go see Mommy.” He tried to make it sound like an order, but it came out more like a plea. “Daddy wants to be alone before going out.”

Claire stayed where she was, and then walked up to the couch and climbed clumsily onto the cushion beside her father. Alvin put down his hands and watched his daughter sit beside him, her little legs sticking out over the end of the couch because they were still too short to bend over the edge.

Claire placed her hands between her legs, wiggled her little feet in those cute little shoes, and looked up at her daddy. “Can I be alone with you?” she said. “It’s always better to be alone together then alone by yourself. Auntie Eleanor says so.”

Alvin sighed again and wiped his eyes before looking away. He did not say anything, knowing that both of his children had inherited his strong will and stubbornness; if they didn’t want to go, then they wouldn’t. It was also the simple wonder that children knew when they were needed, and when they were supposed to leave. No matter what he would do or say, Claire would not budge.

So they sat there in silence. Claire looked at her feet, then up at her father, and then down at her feet, and then up at her father again. She smiled after a moment and then after looking at her feet once more, looked up at her father again. Alvin had his face turned away again, and his chin was sitting in the palms of his hands.

Claire grinned and jumped to her feet. She ran in front of her father and came to a stop, her legs together and her hands behind her back. She smiled.

Alvin noticed her get up and stop in front of him, and looked up at her through what tears were still trying to break through. Claire’s smile grew, as her beautiful little white teeth showed between her rosy lips. “Mommy says that there’s gonna be dancing at the hall tonight,” she said, wiggling her toes. She held out her hands. “So I need to practice. A princess always needs to practice before going to a ball, Daddy. And she needs a prince to practice with.” She giggled and jumped up and down a little, still holding out her hands to Alvin. “Oh, please, Daddy? Please?” she asked sweetly. “You dance so nicely on TV and at your concerts. Can you help me practice? Please? Daddy, Please?”

Alvin looked at her in silence, and did not reply. He could not even open his mouth. Of course, if he did, nothing would have come out of it anyhow; there were no words that he could think of. He simply stared at her daughter and then down at her tiny hands.

Claire giggled again and reached over and grabbed one of Alvin’s hands, and pulled on it. “Oh, please, Daddy, please?” she asked again, as she pulled her father off of the couch.

“Claire,” Alvin said quietly, although he felt himself lift off of the couch. He was not sure if it was some invisible hands pushing him forward, or if it were his own legs, or even his own daughter. He soon found himself standing on both feet again, Claire’s hands in his.

Claire almost squealed happily, but she quickly regained herself and took her hands away from her father’s. She curtsied.

Alvin stared at her in small wonder, and then sprouted a smile. Placing one hand over his stomach and the other behind his back, he leaned down and bowed.

Claire stood up straight once more and looked up at her daddy again. Alvin held out his hand to her. “May I have this dance?” he asked softly.

Claire smiled brightly and placed her hand in his. “Yes, you may,” she said royally, as she placed her other hand in Alvin’s other.

At first, it was more of a clumsy dance, considering Alvin was trying to dance with a chipette almost two times shorter than he was. They took a few steps backwards, a few steps forward, and then one to the side, and then one to the other side. It was like any ordinary little dance five year old girls danced, and for the most part, it was all in silence.

After a while, Alvin started humming a tune, his famous chipmunk vocals kicking into gear. Claire giggled when she heard him start to sing. She absolutely loved her father’s singing voice. Alvin held out his arm, allowing him to straighten out a little, and watched as Claire twirled around like a little ballerina before him, just like the ones on the music boxes. She laughed and nearly fell over, if Alvin hadn’t quickly scooped her up in is arms as his voice began to build.

Claire cried in surprise and delight, as Alvin held her up in his arms, near his chest, one arm holding her in place, the other held out, still holding hers. Claire placed her left arm around her daddy’s neck and kept the other one stretched out so that he could lead her around in circles in the dark living room. She giggled and laughed, and listened to her father’s voice, now mouthing words to the beautiful tune he was singing. Every now and then, Alvin would chuckle as he sang, as his daughter laughed before him, and sometimes he had to stop singing all at once or else risk singing a wrong note; he especially needed to do this when he would lean way down and dip Claire almost upside down, and she would start to laugh loudly. When he would twirl around, she laid her cheek against his, and wished that they could never stop.

Once Alvin had finished singing his beautiful song, he held Claire up in his arms and spun her around in place, as her hair flew around her face.

Claire laughed as Alvin came to a stop and just held her in his arms, looking at her. She stared back at him, as he panted softly; both pairs of ice-blue eyes gazed at each other.

Alvin smiled and hugged Claire against him while she wrapped her arms around his. “Thank you, Claire,” he whispered in her ear. “That was the most beautiful dance I ever danced.”

Claire grinned. “Did I make you feel better?” she asked softly.

“Yes, you did.”

“Are you still tired?”

“Nope.”

Claire beamed with pride. She hugged her father tighter. “Good,” she whispered.

After a moment, Alvin put her down on the ground and noticed the silver crown she had left by the entrance to the living room. He reached down and grabbed it, and then got to his knees before Claire. “I knew there was something missing,” he said, carefully placing the crown on his daughter’s head without ruining her curls. He let it go and winked. “Now that’s my little princess,” he said softly.

Claire giggled and then reached behind her father and grabbed his red cap from the couch. She held it in both of her hands. “Every prince needs his famous crown too, Daddy,” she said, as she placed it on his head, stuffing as much of his beige-brown hair beneath it. She let it go and then shrugged. “Well, maybe not a crown, but it looks better on your head then on the couch.”

Alvin chuckled and then stood up while looking at the clock on the wall. “Uh-oh, we need to get going,” he said, straightening his cap. “Or we’re gonna be late. We still need to pick up your grandpa.” He gently pushed her towards the hallway and watched her run off around the corner. “Put on your jacket, Claire, and tell David to do the same!” Alvin called out after her.

“Okay, Daddy!” came the already distant reply.

Alvin smoothed out his hoodie and walked out of the living room. He was just about to turn right towards the entrance of the door when he ran smack dab into both of his brothers. If he had not have stopped, Alvin would have knocked them both to the ground.

Simon crossed his arms while Theodore covered a laugh. “Well,” he said, as Alvin stumbled backwards, “Still tired?”

“Don’t tell me you were watching that,” Alvin said behind his teeth, as a blush formed over his cheeks.

“Okay, then; I won’t.”

“Oh, booyyyyss!!” Eleanor called out from the entrance, where she, Jeanette and the twins were already standing, coats on. Jeanette was carrying AJ in her arms, while the little toddler sucked on a soother. “We need to go! And don’t dawdle; it’s your album opening night, for heaven’s sake! Hurry it up!”

Theodore playfully nudged Alvin in the ribs and then went to join his wife and Mia, as the chipmunks began to fill out of the house. Simon waited until Alvin had passed him before following. “If I would have known Claire was the cure, I would have called her down myself,” he said.

“You think you’re soooo smart,” Alvin said in a mutter, turning to his head to look at Simon just before reaching over and messing up Simon’s hair. This one laughed and smoothed it out again.

Simon walked out of the house with Jeanette, and the twins followed them closely. Brittany came down the stairs, her hair curled rather strangely, as though she had done it very quickly. She dug in her purse as she came down the stairs. “Okay, I have my wallet, my lipstick, my blush, my little mirror, my eyelash mascara, and my credit cards,” she said to herself, as Alvin pulled her pink coat off of a hangar and held it opened. Brittany stopped in front of him and looked up. “How do I look?” she asked, quickly taking a glance at herself and then back at Alvin.

“You look fine,” Alvin replied, holding the jacket open.

Brittany wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes; she knew what game he was playing. She snapped her fingers and immediately her arms glowed with a pale pink light, and then pink dust-like air twisted around her like a tornado. When it had cleared, her hair had been beautifully tied up with a few loose curls, make-up had been placed on her face in just the right spots, and diamond earrings and a diamond necklace were now visible. Little pink sparkles made her hair shine.

Brittany placed a hand on her hip and leaned against it. “Now, how do I look, Romeo?” she asked, half amused, half peeved.

Alvin grinned playfully and wrapped her in her jacket. “Now you look beautiful,” he replied, right before Brittany softly punched him in the shoulder.

“Yo, Alvin! You’re the lead singer! Get your butt out in the car before I take off!” Simon called from the driveway.

Alvin grumbled a few words and he and Brittany ran out of the house. He never spoke to her about his little dance with Claire, nor did he ever ask if she had heard him yelling earlier or singing to his daughter. Alvin did not even ask his brothers how long they had been standing there; all that mattered to him was that he had had the most beautiful dance with Cinderella that he would ever have wanted, and that he was proud to have been asked.