The Boys Who Danced With the Moon

by Mark Paul Oleksiw

  “Something different is always worth hearing. I am honestly looking forward now to tomorrow.” He sat back in his chair, almost flipping himself onto his posterior.

  “Great, Moony. If it goes haywire tomorrow, just do me a favor and pretend to have an asthma attack.”

  “I’ll practice tonight,” he said as he made an exaggerated coughing sound as if practicing.

  I shook my head—he was such a character sometimes. “I was just kidding. Let’s go hit the library.”

  As Moony walked ahead of me as we left the cafeteria, I put my hand on his shoulders. “Moony, I’m glad you came to our school.”

  “Me, too. Wow. Music at lunchtime. Maybe there’ll be dancing, too.”

  “Maybe, Moony. Maybe one day there will be dancing.”

  CHAPTER 13

  The next day, there was a certain air of anticipation. As everyone finished eating lunch, I excused myself to go to my locker to get my radio and the tapes. Moony looked around, not sure who he should follow. Marius finally put him out of his misery. “Moony, come on out with us.” It was less of an invite than a demand. Walking away, I could hear the murmurs of displeasure. Some of the kids just tolerated Moony because he was friends with Marius and me. Tolerate was the operative word. I knew that if Moony started singing outside or, worse, dancing to the music, Marius would be there to keep him in his place. I hoped.

  I walked down the long corridor to the back exit of the school and into the yard at the rear. I arrived at the back fence and set down my radio. I adjusted the knobs, including volume control to ensure that when I pressed the “play” button an eardrum-shattering noise did not come out and either ruin the speakers or, worse, set off the wave of protests as to why I was even there in the first place.

  Dale hovered over me, watching my every twitch. He was tall and very lanky, with a long, crooked nose and an acne-laced complexion. He had curly blonde hair with a hint of a mustache. He thought of himself as a music guru. He claimed he played electric guitar in a band with college kids. He also liked to talk about all the weed he had access to on the weekends when he would “jam” with his older friends. He was fidgeting with his belt with “ZEP” carved into the buckle. He leaned over me and announced loudly, “Need help? Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  I was reaching into my backpack when the words stabbed into my spine, freezing me. I shook my head and looked back at him, rolling my eyes. “Just give me a sec.” I pulled out a tape, one that I listened to religiously. I fumbled with it in my hands. I looked across the schoolyard and could see my circle of friends surrounding me, eyes staring intently. Marius stood at the periphery next to Moony, who was awash with great anticipation. Just outside of the circle and against the steel fence were a bunch of girls in our grade chit-chatting. They were certainly very preoccupied now with the events unfolding in our boys’ world. Most of the girls had brightly colored hair, spiky, with piercings on earlobes or around the outer ear. Such was the punk, post-punk girl gang. I could see Janie standing in the middle of them, staring right at me. Her brows perked up and arched as if somewhat surprised to see me as the centerpiece of this commotion.

  Janie was one of the first girls I had ever met in my life who was not family. We had been in first grade together and sat near each other. She was a cute six-year-old back then with an attitude foreshadowing the blossoming into an older, more cynical teenager. In the good old days of my crayon-coloring youth, she had the longest, thickest, and most beautiful golden hair I had ever seen. One morning, my short attention span got the better of me. I sat behind Janie as I did each and every day. That day she had a light blue ribbon in her hair, set just at the back. It was picture day, and her mom had apparently taken quite a bit of time to fine tune what I thought was already perfect hair. We were practicing our alphabet and writing it out in pencil. I could see her focused in front of me while I daydreamed. Her blue ribbon got my attention. My eyes became hypnotized with the dance the ribbon did as her head shifted. This blue boat sailing on a sea of endless fine yellow wheat. My eyes narrowed and, in my dreamlike state, I lost control of my right hand. It too got caught in this dance before me and reached out for the blue boat.

  Before I could stop it, my hand was wallowing in the softest hair I have ever felt. Suddenly, the calm of my dream was broken by Janie’s shriek. It was the first time I had ever heard a swear word out of a girl’s mouth.

  The class erupted with laughter. The teacher came rushing over to find me looking up at her, innocence in my eyes, right hand still caressing Janie’s hair. Had not the teacher arrived at my desk, my hand would have been forever entangled in Janie’s hair although likely separated from my body. My punishment was a lengthy note about my behavioral issues to my parents plus a week of after-school sanctions.

  My father had a long sit-down with his six-year-old son that evening and explained how boys must be gentlemen and should not touch little girls or play with their hair without their permission. He ordered me to apologize to Janie immediately. I set about to carry out what I knew would be the worst part of my punishment the next day.

  I walked up to Janie outside the classroom to offer my sincere regret for my behavior. I cannot recall how many words she heard. I also cannot recall how many feet I recoiled. I do remember that the bruising around my eye took almost two weeks to go away after. It was my first black eye, and I wore it as a badge of misguided courage.

  Somewhere along the way, Janie’s hair was cut short and the pretty dresses she wore were replaced by jeans, leather jackets, and piercings. I overheard my parents mentioning a couple of years back how Janie’s parents had separated. Her father had lost his job and starting drinking until finally he was kicked out of his home. All I can remember is Janie arrived at school one day with her head practically shaved. The day I saw the beautiful blonde hair was gone, I felt a sharp pain in my eye, strange as it may seem. Now I looked across the schoolyard, and she, too, was taking a keen interest in my activity.

  The midday spring sun was exceedingly bright and partially blinded me as I was about to put the cassette into the tape deck. I was briefly blinded and dropped the chosen cassette onto the ground. I quickly picked it up, inserted it, and pressed play. The clangy guitar intro coursed from my ears through my heart and feet. It was so familiar and welcoming. Then the raspy voice enthusiastically asked the question which opened “I Will Dare”.

  The small circle was filled with looks of confusion battered in layers of exaggerated indignity.

  “What crap is this?”

  “Is this is a joke?”

  “Please, someone shut it off and put on the radio instead.”

  I took a step back dejectedly and lowered my head, focusing on the movement of the ants beneath my feet. Marius attempted to calm the masses, only to be overmatched. Moony stood tapping his feet, enjoying the music. Dale finally emerged from the raucous crowd and stopped in front of me to get control of my radio.

  Dale was about to reach down to press the “Stop” button when suddenly a solitary figure strode in front of him and pushed him back. It was Janie.

  “What is your problem, Dale? The Replacements are awesome and so is this song. I WANT TO HEAR THE REST!”

  Dale was stunned. “I never heard of . . .”

  Janie interrupted, in full assault mode. “I know you never heard of them because you still think it’s the sixties. Get into my generation, Dale, or try visiting us from time to time.”

  Dale retreated, mortified and mumbling under his breath. He walked by me, shaking his head as if his sky had fallen. Janie walked over to me and playfully shoved my left shoulder.

  “Kiran, can I borrow this tape after lunch and bring it home? I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”

  “Sure, Janie. No problem. Give it back to me anytime.”

  “Thanks.” She studied me carefully and then said, “I didn’t know you were i
nto this type of music. I mean. No offense. I just never pictured you....”

  “It’s all good, Janie. I listen to this all the time. I like the lyrics.”

  She smiled at me. “Me, too. If you have more, bring them in and maybe we can trade.

  “Sure. No problem.”

  Before she turned away, she smiled at me. “Your eye healed pretty well I see.”

  I laughed and looked at her head and longed for that moment when that soft blonde hair would emerge from the short, cropped garden of her head.

  I turned to face what had gone from a lynch mob in the making to a collection of dumbfounded teenagers dealing with the realization that the statues of their gods lay toppled at the feet of a girl. Marius stood with a broad smirk on his face. He walked toward me and said, “I knew you could pull it off. Never a doubt.” He stated as a devilish grin formed.

  Thomas, who had been quiet up until this point, finally spoke up. “Kiran, can you bring the radio tomorrow, too?”

  Such is how I became the musical director for the remainder of that school year. It was also the beginning of an endless sequence of Janie borrowing my tapes evolving into CDs later on. She would always start with asking me for a smoke at lunch, knowing full well that I didn’t have one. It was her lead into asking to borrow music from me.

  Moony stood and listened to music. Shuffling his feet when no one was watching. I always was. Now and then, Moony would ask the now-rhetorical question: Why didn’t we ever dance if we had all this great music?

  CHAPTER 14

  My ascendency to the throne resulted from a bloodless rebellion. It was indeed an unusual spring for me. My music dominated the schoolyard. Rather, it dominated within the kingdom of Marius. Within the few months that Marius had been at Pauley High, he was clearly the undisputed leader of our grade. When school commenced again in the fall, we would be in our final year of high school. I would be one of the ruling elite within the school. Time changes dramatically in your teens. One year held the equivalent of stars forming and dying in the universe. Dramatic changes happened that quickly.

  Marius, however, was not a strong student. When asked to read aloud in class, he often stumbled and retreated from the task, hiding behind the mask of humor. I spent enough time with him to see the frustration and cracks beneath the carefully constructed façade. It was after school one day when Marius shed some light on the shadow appearing to creep over him.

  “Listen, Wells. I need to ask you something.”

  “Sure. Can it wait until tomorrow? I need to get home and start studying for our finals.”

  “That’s just it. These finals are important, if I heard correctly.”

  “Well. Yeah, for sure.” I was shocked that he didn’t understand how important, and I knew my tone didn’t hide it. “Marius, these finals will affect our college applications. These grades and the ones in the fall.”

  “I get that. I figured I wouldn’t get in on good looks alone.”

  “What are you worried about? Riverside College usually will accept you if your overall average is over seventy-five percent. It’s only those pricey schools in the south that require higher.”

  “See, I’m worrying because well . . .”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  “You’re going to Riverside?”

  “Like, where else?”

  “You have excellent grades, though.”

  “I do okay. Those other schools require some serious coin.” I could sense Marius waiting for me to figure it out. “So, you’re worried about your marks?”

  “Bingo! I knew you were smart like a wizard first time we met.”

  “Marius, you called me the Savior. Not the wizard. Moony may be a wizard, not me.”

  “Right. Just making sure you’re paying attention.”

  “If you’re worried, I’ll help you study. Come on over to my house anytime.”

  “Sure, that’s a grand idea. I saw the look your parents gave me last time. They would have burned me at the stake if they could get enough firewood.”

  “Next time, don’t swing by with a pack of smokes sticking out of your pocket.”

  “You promise to help?”

  “For sure, just . . .” I served up the perfect volley he so confidently awaited. The spike was coming in loud and hard at my face.

  “Great. Just move your arms a bit when I jab you with my pencil. You tend to crouch down too low over your paper when we have an exam. You make it hard to see.” He smiled from ear to ear. In typical Marius fashion, he had solved his problem while deftly creating one for myself.

  “Oh, crap. Just don’t expect me to write the answers on the erasers you throw on my desk. If I get caught, my parents will kill me.”

  “Don’t worry. I would explain to them why their son’s grand career went down the toilet bowl. I’m good at explaining things to parents.” His face was etched in pure stone right then. No hint of humor or mirth. Suddenly, he burst out roaring with laughter. “Sucker. I had you going. If we get caught, no way am I coming near your house.”

  ***

  The final exams came and went. In Marius’s world, this called for special celebrations. Marius asked me to meet him at the park the night after the last exam. He would bring a beer for each of us, and we would have a drink in tribute to the end of the school year. I walked home with great fear and terror in my heart. Up until that night, not even an ounce of alcohol had ever passed my lips.

  I arrived at the top of Shep’s Hill just overlooking the residential community. The sun had long since gone down. Alone, I sat in almost total darkness. I imagined myself drinking a can of beer and losing control and rolling down the hill like a bowling ball down a greased lane. It would be my certain demise. My first beer followed by my careening down the hill headfirst into the brick wall of the school. The school custodian would call my parents and explain how I was dead and managed to damage school property. A bill would surely be forthcoming.

  I stared at the stars and the sky. I never realized how elegant this world truly was. For an instant, the stars and planets in the sky appeared to all belong to me. They glistened as if in chorus with one another. The moon seemed to be an appreciating audience whose view occasionally became obstructed by a marauding, uncultured cloud.

  I could hear the rustling of birds in the trees and the soft voices of nature. A mosquito buzzed my ear. I splattered it across my cheek. Its blood mixed with mine on my face. I spat on my hand to wipe it off. Now that the buzz was gone, it was suddenly quiet again. I framed this picture within the walls of my mind. Therein lies the joke and therein was the punchline. There was no one with me to share this moment. My one companion, I splattered across my cheek.

  A feeling of nausea bubbled to the surface. I closed my eyes as if to take a picture of what was before me and committed it to my memory. The serene beauty of my vision would be a gift I hoped to save—to share one day.

  When I opened my eyes, I saw a tiny figure at the base of the hill. The long flowing robe and awkwardness of the movements left no doubt about who it was. I sat up and peered down at him with great interest. I wanted to run down the hill and ask what he was doing. Instead, I chose to enjoy the show from my VIP seat. It was Moony, in all his magical glory.

  Moony was by himself, although his actions suggested a partner, more privy to the chaos of his movements. His feet shuffled as his body bent low. His feet left the ground, the gravity of his cloak holding him down. My god, I thought. The kid was trying to leap up and down to catch something. From where I sat on top of the hill, I couldn’t see if he was trying to grab a butterfly or maybe only swat away an annoying bug. There was a strange way to his movements, suggesting a dance to music he alone was hearing.

  Heavy footsteps behind me announced Marius’s arrival. He had come up the hill on the other side and settled in beside me. He put a large paper bag down next to m
y left leg. I could hear a mumble and low grinding sounds coming from his teeth.

  “What the fuck is he doing?” He was whispering as though he was angry to have to witness this display. Regardless of his outward action, I could tell he was visibly entertained.

  “It’s Moony.” I shrugged without looking at him. I even managed a fake yawn.

  “Are you mad, too? Yes, I know it’s him. What on earth is he doing? He’s trying to catch something. I can’t see anything.” He stopped and then rolled his eyes, noticing the cloak Moony was wearing. “And he’s wearing the heavy priest thing, too. He must be drowning in smelly sweat!”

  “I have no idea, Marius. I guess we should see what he’s up to,” I said, finally breaking into a chuckle.

  “Okay. I’ll take the beer with us. You can’t trust anyone around here.” He was already steps ahead of me and almost running down the hill. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve guessed he wanted to join Moony’s improvisational demonstration or—whatever it was that Moony was doing.

  We sauntered down the hill, the aluminum beer cans clanging like cheap church bells in Marius’s plastic bag. The tingling sound didn’t stop Moony as he continued his motion of leaping high up in the air as if to touch the sky. Finally, we had arrived within mere feet of him when he acknowledged our presence. He barely looked over.

  “Guys, I am so happy to see you. Are you here to help me?”

  “Help you?” My expression couldn’t have been more glazed than if it were a maple donut.

  Marius was irritated by my tiptoeing around our curiousness. “He means, what do you think you’re doing out here jumping around like an idiot?”

  Moony was panting heavily by now. He bent down, almost doubling over his now bent knees. “I heard the news. They said nuclear warheads could arrive here in minutes.”

  “Nuclear warheads. From where?” I looked at Moony as I bent down to his level. His eyes were wide and almost tearing.