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Jessi Ramsey couldn’t believe it. At the top of the cast list for The Stamford Ballet School’s production of Sleeping Beauty was her name! “Aurora….Jessi Ramsey.” The title role! One of the most coveted roles for young ballerinas everywhere. And she’d be dancing it!
Her family received the news with cheers. But when Jessi revealed the costs associated with the role, her mother frowned. “New shoes, tights, a tiara, AND a new costume?” she repeated. “Jessi, that will cost us a fortune.”
Jessi was determined. “I’ll save up my babysitting money!” So that’s what she did. The BSC was gracious, giving Jessi priority for jobs, and hosting a Preschool Sock Hop to raise money for her needs. But as the weeks went by and the deadline for her costume approval got closer, Jessi was far from reaching the hundreds of dollars she needed for the beautiful rose-themed Aurora costume and its embroidered pancake tutu.
Claudia suggested Jessi check out the vintage and consignment shops in downtown Stoneybrook. “We could even ask that old lady that owns Sew Fine!” she said. “Maybe she knows where you could get a second-hand gown.”
She joined Jessi and Mallory for some window-shopping that weekend. The Stoneybrook Thrift Shop didn’t have much, and Ms. Dorothy at Sew Fine was more into needlework than costuming. While they found a beautiful choker at Madame Drew’s dress shop, no garments met the specific, rigid rules of costuming that Madame Noelle insisted they follow at Stamford Ballet School.
The girls nearly gave up for the day, when Jessi spied a small, dusty shop in an alley that she’d never noticed before. The window display featured a Victorian mannequin, fine buttoned gloves, and several petticoats of lace and tulle. “Let’s try that one,” she said.
The shop was an antique store, and though the door swung open, it seemed like the shop might be closed. Lights were dim and the air was still. The girls split up to assess the wares. Jessi found herself in the very back corner of the shop, before an old wardrobe. She opened a creaky door, to find rows of satin and tulle before her. She gasped, and filed through the delicate vintage ballet costumes draped on velvet hangers. At the very end - she had to stretch to reach it - she grasped an emerald green garment with paper roses adorning the bodice and crystal beads dotting the skirt. With it hung a supernaturally preserved pair of green silk stockings, a paper flower crown, and matching toe shoes. It was perfect!
“That costume appeared in the first production of The Sleeping Beauty in Connecticut,” a voice rasped from behind her. Jessi whirled around. An ancient old woman in a lengthy pashmina and purple-tinted glasses blinked at her.
“Mrs. Porter!” Jessi laughed, relaxing. “I didn’t know you had an antique shop!”
Kristy’s neighbor smiled cryptically. “It’s just a little hobby of mine. I only open if the shop is needed. And something told me it would be needed today.” She fingered the stiff tulle that held up the tutu. “This gown hasn’t been worn in over a hundred years.”
“But it’s in such good condition,” Jessi breathed. Her heart fell. “I probably can’t afford a gown this old and this beautiful.”
“You’re from the Stamford Ballet School?” the woman asked. “I let the students rent the costumes if they cannot afford to purchase them. This looks like it would fit you perfectly.”
The rental was arranged. Jessi couldn’t believe her luck. The costume was perfect, and its provenance only added to its grandeur. She couldn’t wait to wear it!
The Sleeping Beauty Ballet went off without a hitch. The emerald choker sparkled in the cleft of Jessi’s neck, and the pink and green flower crown stood out brightly against her high puff bun. The BSC got front row seats, and flushed with glee when Jessi appeared in the antique gown. Their friend seemed to dance even more gracefully than usual, jumping higher and spinning faster than she ever had before. The run was extended for two extra weeks as Stoneybrook residents filled the house, clamoring for more.
But as the performances went on, Jessi became sick and exhausted. She put her all into each performance, but stayed home from school and slept through most of the day. Her mother was alarmed to notice a green tinge staining Jessi’s bed sheets. “I don’t think you should wear that costume again,” she told her daughter. “But it’s just one more show, Mom,” she pleaded. She was relieved to tie the laces of the Victorian costume one last time.
That night, when the prince performed their modest, mock-kiss to “wake” her, Jessi didn’t stir. He bobbed down again, and a third time, whispering in her ear. But Jessi did not wake up. And she never did.
The Stoneybrook coroner was shocked to discover that Jessi had died of arsenic poisoning. “It would take enormous amounts of the poison to do it, but that old Victorian costume must be the culprit," he told her family. “I can only surmise that under the hot stage lights, and after so many nights perspiring in the fitted costume, that it slowly ate away at her.”
The community, and especially the Ramseys and the BSC, were devastated. Mallory took Jessi’s death particularly hard, and began researching the history of the gown that killed Jessi. Sure enough, after many afternoons scrolling through microfiche, Mallory found it. A hundred-year old article from The Stoneybrook Times, about a young dancer who died at the end of her run as Princess Aurora in Stamford, green dye tinging her funeral shroud.
The Ramseys had Jessi buried in the emerald green costume, so no one would be lost to its poison again.