Who is Mackie Spence?

by Lin Kaymer

  Oh, this could be a problem. Mackie asked me to the dance three days ago, and I didn’t mention anything to them.

  “Not long ago,” I reply.

  Dad and Justin look at me like I have some explaining to do. Sadie One isn’t computing for them.

  Mom beats me to it, speaking fast. “You remember this from last year, right? Jeremy went to Sadie Two. Sadie One is the first of two fall dances. Each dance has music from a decade in the last century. Sadie One is fifties music. After Sadie, the boys ask the girls to Steve One. That will be a sixties dance. Jeremy, I could show you some steps,” she offers.

  “Uh, the Dance Club puts on a clinic the first half hour. I think I’ll be okay.”

  I don’t want her too into this. That would mean one full week of more attention than I can handle. She really bugged me last spring when Cat Morley asked me to the Sadie Two disco dance, and I don’t want a repeat of her trying to get me enthused about dancing.

  “You know, I thought Mackie was dating Brody. What happened there?” Mom asks, frowning.

  “Don’t know,” I say. “She stopped seeing him after the accident.”

  “So does that bruise have anything to do with you going with Mackie to the dance?”

  “He seemed a little ticked off,” I say, hoping it would be enough.

  “You were in a fight today over Mackie?”

  “He thinks she’s still into him, even though he’s seeing Jilly Parker now.”

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  “Coach told us to knock it off.”

  This gets Dad’s attention. “Are you on probation?” he asks.

  “No. Coach made us promise to leave each other alone. So I guess it’s over,” I say then fill my mouth with casserole.

  “ ‘I guess it’s over?’ ” Mom asks, in her college instructor’s voice.

  I take a while to swallow. “Yeah, I guess it’s over.”

  “Fighting isn’t like you, Jeremy. What happened?” Mom continues.

  “No blood was spilled. Coach didn’t kick us off the team. Can I just finish dinner?” This comes out sounding whiny, not the best way to get my mom off the subject.

  Mom and Dad exchange ‘The Look’ that I’ve never been able to decode. It seems to end the discussion, though, because they don’t ask more questions.

  After dinner I put my plate in the dishwasher and slowly walk upstairs to finish my homework.

  Fifteen minutes later, my phone buzzes. It’s Mackie.

  “Hi,” she says. “I heard about the fight. Are you okay?”

  I feel a lot better hearing her voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t bad. Coach stopped us before anything really happened.”

  “I should have known Brody would go after you. This is my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. Brody has a short fuse. Hey, what happened at the shelter today?”

  “Some people were out on Locke’s Pass and saw an eagle lying on the north shore. They called it in. Gabe drove over to pick him up, and I rode along. Gabe said he was cut like he’d been in a fight with another eagle.”

  “What happened when the bird saw you?”

  “Not much, because he was so bad off. At first Gabe thought he was stunned or playing dead, but his wounds are serious. We brought him back to the shelter, and Gabe logged him as Number 27. He’s by himself in one of the recovery cages. Tomorrow I’ll try to spend time with him.”

  “Wow,” I say, wishing I could have been there, too. “What did Number 26 do?”

  “She was up and flying. She called out a few times. He tried to answer. Gabe said they had probably figured out some things about each other.”

  “Probably a lot,” I say. “At least each other’s sex and age. Did she get a look at him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How old is he?

  “He’s young, still a juvenile.”

  “Where’s he injured?”

  “He can’t extend one of his wings, and his feet and the top of his head were covered in blood.”

  “Oh, yeah. Definitely a fight,” I say, thinking that I was lucky today with Brody compared to Number 27’s fight.

  “So, it’s serious,” I say.

  “Yeah. Doc came right away.”

  “Hmmm. When you were on your way to find him, did you feel the same kind of connection that you had with the orca?”

  “It’s always the same, but a little different, too. It wasn’t strong today. He was in shock and couldn’t even look at me. And I don’t feel tired like I was after the orca. Maybe how large the animal is makes a difference.”

  This is something that hadn’t occurred to me.

  “So, what did you feel today?”

  “I was being pulled, but not like with the orca. Not even close. Still, when we were at the shelter, it was hard to leave him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She’s quiet for a few seconds.

  “Remember when I told you the orca pulled me along and I felt like I was in a vacuum? I have that same feeling with other animals. It always seems like I’m pulled through an air stream before I make contact with them.”

  According to everything I know about science and animals, consistent commonalities have significance. Feeling pulled along like she is in a vacuum has something to do with every incident. And only Mackie can feel it. I’ve never felt anything like that at the shelter by myself, when Mackie and I have worked together, or when we were with the orca.

  She interrupts my thoughts.

  “I feel really bad about this thing with you and Brody. Where did he hit you?”

  “It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m worried.”

  I’m not thinking about Brody. I care about Mackie. Will she ever tell me everything about this connection she has with animals? But I have homework. Reluctantly, I say good night and hang up. My jaw aches from Brody’s fist.

  CHAPTER 6

  Mackie sits next to me every day at lunch, and we walk to our afternoon classes together. I can’t seem to get enough of being with her. Does she feel the same way about me?

  Wednesday, as we leave the Dining Hall, she says, “Doc was in yesterday. He told us Number 27’s wounds are healing. Did you know that eagles have a high rate for infection after being in a fight?”

  “Yeah, we’ve had other eagles brought in that ended up being really sick. Two didn’t make it. Can you tell whether he’s getting better because of you? Like how you knew that the whale was better?” I ask.

  “Yes. But it’s different with Number 27 than it was with the whale. I think the orca knew what was happening. That I could help him. With Number 27, I need to wait for him to connect. It might be all the sedatives.” She pauses, and sighs. “But he’s going to be fine.”

  After dinner, I run to Mackie’s house and we translate our French assignment. Noelle checks us out as we sit together on the couch, but leaves us alone. Maybe Mackie said something to her?

  Actually, it has been a great week in many ways. Brody has calmed down, and hasn’t bothered me at practice. Or, maybe he’s just ignoring me. That’s just fine. I’ve always thought of cross-country as my second favorite sport after soccer, but now, running distance feels great. Tuesday, we had interval training on the track, 600s broken up by 200s. Then, even with Brody running next to me, Wednesday’s practice went well. The team ran for about forty minutes, followed by a coaching clinic.

  Now it’s Thursday and Coach holds his hand up to give us instructions in the locker room. “Gentlemen, today we run a fartlek.” Like always, there are a few snickers. Coach doesn’t look amused. “Remember, at the end of every quarter mile you run a fifteen second sprint. Use the wooded trail route, and follow our markers. No cheating. I want to see every one of you breathing hard when you get back here. Forty minutes.” He looks at his watch. “Starting now.” Coach holds the door open as we sweep out into the bright sunshine.

  I begin runn
ing at an easy pace, thinking how much more interesting my life has become. Mackie is definitely the reason. Thirty minutes in, I hear footsteps pounding up fast behind me. It’s Ben, grinning like a madman. He tries to pass me and we mock-race each other back to school. Later, I feel so tired I fall asleep before my head hits my pillow.

  On Friday, Erica sits next to me during lunch while I wait for Mackie and says, “Mackie’s really excited about the dance.”

  I feel my heartbeat pick up.

  “Yeah, well, I am the Dance Master,” I tell her, making an effort to look casual, but serious.

  She crosses her eyes at me, and we both laugh.

  “Yeah, I’m happy she asked me to the dance,” I add.

  Of course there’s more to it. The thing I like most about being with Mackie is that when we’re alone she likes to hold hands, kiss, and cuddle. But, at school or with our friends, she’s cool. There isn’t any big show. Some girls get all over guys. Not Mackie. She might put a little flirt on, but she doesn’t do anything just to get attention.

  Because it’s Friday we don’t have practice, so there’s plenty of time after school to kick back at the house before Jon and Erica pick me up for Sadie One. I’ve been looking forward to it because, though I’m not the world’s greatest dancer, Mackie picked me to go with her. That’s enough.

  After dinner I change into pretty much what I might wear for school: a pair of dark jeans and an olive-green and black plaid shirt left unbuttoned over a red T-shirt. I’ll carry my rain jacket because the air has a heaviness that promises a change of weather.

  As I jog back downstairs, Mom stands in the front door hallway. She raises her fists in her mom’s victory salute when she sees me. “Jeremy you look so nice. Those colors are perfect on you,” she nods, giving me a quick hug.

  “I don’t have anything that looks fifties. It’s okay, I guess.”

  “Nolan,” Mom calls to Dad, who is in the front room, “Jeremy’s leaving.”

  Dad walks out with Justin, who stares like he’s trying to figure out what all the fuss is about.

  “Ah, who’s driving tonight?” Dad asks. I’ve gone over this with Mom, but not Dad. He and Justin have been playing chess, their game most Friday nights.

  “Jon. We’ll be with Erica and Jon. After the dance we’re going to Mackie’s. Wes and Angela, too. Mr. and Mrs. Spence know about it.”

  “All right. Call us if something happens and you need a ride,” Dad says, turning. He wants to get back to the game board.

  “Two more things,” Mom says as I head toward the vestibule door to wait on the porch. “You probably won’t think this is important, but I bought a silk flower on campus for you to give to Mackie.” She holds out a lavender flower with a dusting of gold glitter in the middle. “She can wear this in her hair. See, it has a clip. Also, you don’t have to be back until midnight, or whenever Caitlin and Nick decide it’s time for you kids to go home. I hope you have a lot of fun.”

  I hug her.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say, handling the flower carefully. “I mean it, thanks. I didn’t know I was supposed to get her something.”

  “Well, now you know. If she doesn’t want to wear it, that’s not a problem. It’s the thought of the gift that counts.”

  Right. I need to start thinking more.

  At seven-fifteen, Jon and Erica pull down our driveway. I leap off the front porch steps to meet them. The dance is scheduled from seven thirty to ten o’clock and we still have to pick Mackie up.

  Erica greets me first. “Hey Jer, are you ready to twist and shout?” she asks, flipping her twin pigtails back and forth.

  “Isn’t that from the sixties?” I reply, opening the back door of Jon’s vintage Volkswagen Jetta.

  “Oh poo!” Erica mutters. “Who cares? It’s going to be jumping and jiving tonight,” she sings.

  “This is what I’ve had to deal with today,” Jon says, as he puts the car in drive and we quickly cross the distance to Mackie’s house. But I know Jon. He’s totally crushing on Erica. Maybe that’s how I act around Mackie, too.

  As Jon and Erica wait, I climb out of the car and walk to the Spences’ front door. Two weeks ago, I would have waited with Jon and Erica for Mackie to come out. Now things are different. When I tap the doorknocker, Mac opens the door right away. I smile big.

  Mackie is beautiful! She has on a tan, black, and ivory leopard print sweater with a small pearl necklace, and tight black jeans that made her legs look really long. Her hair is pulled in a high ponytail at the back of her head. It makes her doe-like eyes look even bigger. Mac’s mom and dad watch us just behind her. Noelle prances at their side.

  “Hello, Jeremy. Oh, that’s lovely,” Mrs. Spence says as I silently hand Mackie the lavender flower.

  “Hi, Mrs. Spence, Mr. Spence,” I reply, smiling at them and trying to avoid looking at Noelle. I do not want to trigger a Suffering Southern Belle scene.

  “Mackie, my mom found this flower on campus for me to give to you. You can put it in your hair if you want,” I explain, trying to sound like I know what I’m talking about.

  “Thank you! It’s like a fairytale flower,” Mackie says. Mrs. Spence motions for me to step inside as Mackie leaves the room with the flower.

  Meanwhile, Noelle eyes me like she might have something to say. I try not to make contact with her. It’s tough, though, avoiding the extraterrestrial in the room.

  Mackie returns, and I notice she’s added the flower to the top of her ponytail. The sparkles glitter against her dark hair.

  Then, with her parents calling after us, “Have fun!” we walk out the front door, and join Jon and Erica in the car. Erica has moved to the back seat to talk with Mackie. My legs thank her.

  “Ooh, I like your hair!” Erica says.

  “Jeremy gave me this flower,” Mackie replies, touching the back of her ponytail and giving me more credit than I deserve.

  “Jon gave me a wrist corsage, but I was afraid it would get crushed when we dance, so I put it in some water at home,” Erica says.

  I look at Jon, and we both roll our eyes at their girl talk. But we listen.

  At school, we cram our jackets and shoes into Jon’s locker, since it’s the closest to the gym. Mom told me this kind of dance was dubbed a “Sock Hop” because in the 1950s, wooden gym floors weren’t varnished. They damaged easily, so everyone danced without shoes, in their socks. We will do the same to carry on the tradition.

  Entering the gym, I’m shocked to see so many people. This is a much bigger dance than last year’s Sadie Two disco dance. The Dance Club is already demonstrating steps, so we find places to sit on an upper bleacher.

  The music is DJ’ed and loud. In between songs, Mr. McDowell, the Dance Club’s faculty advisor, explains the dance steps. They don’t look that difficult, and I begin looking around to see who else is in the stands. I catch sight of Wes and Angela sitting with some other juniors near us. Wes sees me and waves.

  Mackie links her arm in mine and we rock in our seats with the music. After about fifteen minutes of instruction, the Dance Club invites everyone onto the floor. We stand up at once and head down the steps, the sound muffled by the socks on our feet.

  “Get ready to rock ’n’ roll, because we have ‘Rock Around the Clock’ by Bill Haley and the Comets, ‘Peggy Sue’ by Buddy Holly, and ‘At the Hop’ by Danny and the Juniors,” Mr. McDowell announces.

  When the music starts, the beat comes fast. Most people just free style. So do I, and have to keep myself from knocking into people dancing around me. After a while I don’t worry too much, because it’s impossible. People keep bumping into me. But I try to keep Mackie safe.

  “Jer, just do what I do, but in reverse,” Mac suggests after we mash out some steps that aren’t even close to being together. “Left foot, then step again with your left foot. Now your right foot, then step again with your right foot. Then go backwards with your left foot. That’s it!”

  “Right,” I say, not sure of much of
anything.

  Mackie gasps in surprise when I spin her under my arm.

  “You’ve been practicing!” She smiles.

  What practicing? I try to look mysterious. But Mackie looks happy and that’s what matters. That, and the handholding.

  At the end of the third song, Mr. McDowell picks up the mic again.

  “Now it’s time for a line dance. The Dance Club showed you this earlier. Please form two lines about six feet apart and, when you finish, stay at the end of the line and the next dancer will dance down, and so on. Okay, ready to go? This song is called ‘The Stroll’ by the Diamonds.”

  Mackie and I face each other with Jon and Erica and six people I don’t know. The beat is slow, like you could actually walk to the music. Those who can’t, dance free style, so I don’t feel too weird when it’s my turn. But most of the girls and two of the guys in our line can really dance. Mackie walks between our two lines with her eyes half closed, syncing to the music and snapping her fingers. The rest of the room may as well be empty. She is all I see.

  After the line dance there are three more fast songs and then it’s time for another workshop from the Dance Club, who demonstrate 1950s slow dance steps.

  “Jer, let’s try this,” Mackie urges.

  “Okay. Just know that I’m sorry when I step on your feet.”

  Mackie sends me a terrified look and we both laugh as we begin dancing 1-2-3-4, making a box with our feet. Holding Mackie’s hand and guiding her with my other hand on her waist is new for me. And she rests her left hand on my shoulder. We’d never danced together like that before.

  After the workshop, ‘Come with Me’ by the Del-Vikings plays. Sure, the song has sappy lyrics, but that doesn’t matter. I breathe in the vanilla-orange of Mackie’s hair, and she moves with me like we’ve danced together forever. Somehow, I avoid stepping all over her feet.

  I twirl her a couple of times, slowly, watching as her eyes light up, and she wriggles her hips. Then she tries to twirl me. That cracks us up, and we dance the last steps laughing.

  Right after the tune ends, Mr. McDowell announces three fast songs. The only one I know is ‘Kansas City’ by Wilbert Harrison, a blues-rock classic covered by lots of bands. It’s definitely a crowd pleaser. Just about everyone gets on the floor to jam.