“Look. I know you hate my guts. But neither of us planned any of this. I never wanted to hurt you,” I said.
She had stopped typing and was just staring at her screen. I breathed heavy and saw myself driving back to Chicago. I mean get between your boss and his wife and you are pretty done.
She still didn’t move, so I walked out and went back to the hotel. I want to get married some day and have a family and all that, but it sure seems like it sucks sometimes.
ROUTINE
PAUL
WHEN TOBY CAME OUT in the white suit ala Staying Alive I felt like I had fallen into a Whit Stillman film or something. You know, Last Days of Disco. Surely John Travolta never looked so weird. Toby had slicked back his hair with some sort of pomade and his suit pants looked like he was ready for a flood and the coat sleeves stopped somewhere above his wrists. The white patent leathers shoes rivaled Chevy Chase’s in Christmas Vacation. He walked to the car with a large black plastic garbage bag and got in without a word.
“What’s with the disco suit?”
“I have been working a routine involving the final scene of Saturday Night Fever where the John Travolta character redeems himself and solves his problems with multiple women with his dance routine, which I have learned and will perform to the Bee Gees mega hit from the seventies, Staying Alive.”
We sat in the Mustang and I stared at the black trash bag.
“What is in there?”
“Backup in case I meet some assailants.”
“Assailants?”
“Yes, which reminds me, I will need you to have the car ready in case I have to make a speedy getaway.”
I looked toward the house hoping to see Julie. Toby had informed me she had gone to bed crying many nights and this really made me feel guilty. So I had hoped we might meet before the dance and have a chance to talk. We were both chaperoning the dance because we had picked up the tab and orchestrated it along with Homecoming.com from start to finish. I had already assumed I would be at one end of the gym and Julie could have the other. I put the Cobra Jet in gear and paused.
“Mom is already there getting the gym ready,” he said staring straight ahead.
“She is still mad?”
“Yes. She still hates you.”
I looked at Toby in his white suit.
“Do you hope to solve all your problems with your dancing?”
“Yes. I have a multiple-woman problem that should be solved after I perform.”
“I thought you were going with Macy?”
“I am. Also Amy asked me after Macy, but I forgot I had promised Macy so I will have two dates. Females will not be pleased with sharing my affections. So I will perform the same routine John Travolta did in Saturday Night Fever, and it should solve my romantic and home-life issues.”
I nodded slowly.
“All this from dancing?”
“Yes. You and Mom will get back together if I perform my routine correctly. It worked for Tony Monero.”
I put the car in gear and headed toward the high school.
“It must be a hell of a routine,” I murmured.
TWO TIMING
MACY
THE DANCE WAS SO lame. Nobody was even dancing. Everyone was just hanging by the food table eating vegetables and chips and peanut M&M’s and drinking this gross warm pink punch. It was like somebody came in and created a Homecoming dance from the‘70s. The music was totally lame; classic barfable rock. They had like all these cheesy balloons all over the place and some disco ball in the middle. I think Mr. Clampet put the whole thing on and Toby wanted to meet there, which was kind of weird, but he didn’t have his license, so whatever. Randy went crazy when I told him I was still going and threatened to come kick his ass.
But really, the weird moment is when Toby walked in. I mean I think everybody just stopped and stared. He had on this weird polyester suit that was like a dingy white. It looked like something a waiter would wear or like some disco weirdo. And he just comes in and he is carrying some big trash bag and looks around and then I see that Goth bitch Amy go up to him and they start talking and he hands her a corsage and she pins it on and I’m like wait a minute!
“Toby,” I call out and he turns.
I mean he had his hair slicked back like some kind of greaser and with his weird dark eyes he looked like an escapee from a mental institution or something. He says something to the Amy bitch and then walks over.
“Did you just give her a corsage, Toby?”
He doesn’t even say anything about my strapless super sexy black dress.
“Yes. I was going to give it to you but she came up to me first,” he says with that weird staring into space look.
I put my arms around him and looked up at him. I didn’t see this weird guy in a white suit with hair slicked back. What I saw was five grand.
“But … but I am your date, Toby!”
Toby stares at me with those really weird dark eyes.
“I have two dates for Homecoming. Which is in violation of Homecoming protocol, but I hope to solve it with my dance routine.”
And just then the Goth bitch walks up with like twenty piercings all over her body in some kind of weird Victoria Secret lacy thing that is not flattering. I mean she probably weighs like one hundred and thirty or something.
“What do you mean you have two fucking dates?”
Toby then turns like a solider.
“Stay here. This will all be worked out in my dance routine.”’
And then Randy walks in and they have words I can’t even hear because of the crappy music, but I know Randy wants to kick Toby’s ass. Somehow I end up with the corsage after Goth bitch throws it at him. Toby then leaves all of a sudden and walks up to the DJ and like I said nobody is dancing under that corny disco light that is throwing these balls all over the place. Then the music stops and Toby walks to the center of the gym and strikes like this pose from that old movie, I can’t even remember, but it had John Travolta in it, and he is like some kind of dancing guy. And that’s what Toby looks like because he has kicked out his pelvis and has one finger pointed to the disco ball and one leg bent and everyone is staring at him. And then this song. I mean this disco song from like a thousand years ago comes on and what he does then … I just gasp out loud.
”Oh My God!”
NAPOLEON DYNAMITE
COACH
IT’S DIFFERENT NOW. IF you didn’t have someone to go with then you didn’t go to Homecoming. There were a lot of girls who sat home because some pimply-faced goofball couldn’t get it together. But now they come as singles. In fact, most of the kids coming come by themselves and some of them don’t even get dressed up. If you ask me it was better when the boy had to ask the girl and they came together as a couple.
“It’s better this way Ronald. I was one of those girls sitting home,” Linda pointed out while we stood by the refreshment table with warm punch in our hands.
“I can’t believe no one asked you,” I said looking at her in the off the shoulder number she had worn to chaperone. We had both chaperoned the dances for years before they stopped having them.
“I told you I was a wallflower in high school,” she said sipping her punch from a plastic champagne glass.
“I would have picked that flower anytime. “
She looked at me and it was like we were back in the hotel room. We had met several times since then and we always ended up talking in bed with that sign flashing in from the highway. Vacancy Vacancy. I could hear the truckers rolling by and I thought a lot of times about those guys who had no idea they were going by two teachers fucking away and then laying together outside a crummy little town in Indiana wondering what fate was going to do to them. I had been thinking a lot about my life and I don’t believe in all that psycho mumbo jumbo or therapists or any of that crap. But I gotta tell you, I have been thinking about things like how many years I got left before I cash my chips.
“I wonder why the kids aren’t dancing?”
I stared at the gym floor with the disco ball turning.
“I dunno,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe it’s like that movie Footloose. Maybe they need a Kevin Bacon to get things rolling,” I said picking up a handful of peanut M&M’s.
“Isn’t that Toby Clampet?”
I squinted.
“Yeah, is he with Macy?”
“Appears that way,” Linda says, keeping her eyes on him.
“But he gave his corsage to Amy Sohm,” I point out.
Linda raised her eyebrows.
“He might be with both of them. They do that now.”
I shook my head and scooped up some more M&M’s.
“Wow. I wish they did that when I was going to dances,” I muttered, seeing Randy Twain come across the room. “Uh oh. Might have some trouble here. Randy has been going out with that Macy for a long time and he doesn’t look too pleased,” I said putting down my punch.
I was the unofficial bouncer and I have ejected a fair number of pimply drunk teenagers over the years.
“Looks like they are having words,” Linda said.
I saw Clampet and Randy facing off in front of Macy and Amy. Looked like a showdown at the OK Corral. I squinted again.
“What the hell does he have on?”
Linda frowned.
“I would say that is John Travolta’s suit from Saturday Night Fever.”
Then the Toby kid is walking toward the middle of the gym in that white suit that looked like he was ready for a flood. He had his hair slicked back and the music has stopped and he pivots in the middle of the gym. I mean the whole place is staring at him as he sticks his finger to the disco ball in that famous Travolta pose.
“I think Kevin Bacon just arrived.”
“Where did he get those fucking shoes,” I said, shaking my head.
DOUBLE DATING
JULIE
I SAW PAUL AND Toby come in and made myself busy by the concession table. Toby’s suit was strange, but after a week of working out his John Travolta routine, who was I to tell him that a grungy white suit he bought on eBay wasn’t appropriate? Besides, the suit was nothing compared to the white patent leather shoes. Paul stayed on the other side and then I saw him crossing the gym and my heart started to move. I really didn’t want to talk to him. I would gladly stick a fork in his eye for sleeping with Amber.
“Hey, you see John Travolta?”
Paul was standing on the other side of the concession table. I looked up to where Toby was standing with that Macy girl.
“Yes. He has been working on a routine all week in the basement. I think he has watched Saturday Night Fever about a hundred times.”
Paul turned in his sport coat with the patches. He was wearing his glasses, which he rarely does, and I noticed more grey in his goatee. He did look like a high school teacher and I remembered at one time he had talked about going into teaching.
“The suit is one thing, but those shoes are amazing,” he murmured.
“If it gives him confidence then it is a good thing.”
Paul nodded across the gym
“Confidence he has. He has two dates for Homecoming and they are both standing in front of him.”
I looked up at and saw Toby next to a short girl with purple hair and a leather mini skirt.
“You mean—”
“Yeah the Goth chick he gave his corsage to. He says that he will solve his romantic problems with his dance routine.”
Paul paused then and in that moment we had become parents, which actually supersedes your marriage when you think about it. When you get married you don’t believe you will ever buy into doing it for the kids, but then suddenly you are standing next to your soon to be ex-husband at a Homecoming dance and there it is.
“He also said his routine will get us back together again,” Paul said, turning to me.
“This is not the place.”
He leaned on the table with his hands flat.
“I just want you to know that I am sorry for everything Julie.”
“A little late for that,” I said, keeping my eye on Toby.
He breathed heavily.
“Just for the record, there is nothing between Amber and me.”
I looked at him and realized he didn’t really get it at all.
“I don’t care Paul, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He looked wounded and we stood there as two separate people in a sea of disco balls. He turned and stared at the empty gym floor.
“I guess they don’t dance anymore,” Paul murmured.
“Uh oh,” I said because Toby was walking toward the middle of the gym floor.
Then the music stopped.
DIRTY DANCING
TOBY
IN THE MOVIE SATURDAY Night Fever John Travolta proves his worth as a person through his dancing and solves all concomitant issues with the recognition he is the best dancer at the disco. I am now attempting a similar display of dancing prowess that will solve a myriad of issues. Amy has called me an asshole for being promised to Macy even though I gave her the corsage, which she threw back at me when she found out. I then picked it up and presented it to Macy thereby rendering the first problem moot. I only had one corsage for two dates and beyond splitting the flowers I was able to present it to both dates.
Also, Randy presented himself as my nemesis and threatened to punch me in the nose right there. There was not time to change into my Shaft attire, but I promised to meet him outside where he demanded satisfaction. But this issue along with my parents’ impending divorce and general issues based on popularity at school all promise to be in the solved category if I am able to perform a flawless routine.
I have now positioned myself in the center of the gym. I do wish I had a mirror but I have committed the routine to memory and just need the DJ to cue my music. There is a palpable silence and I can hear the whir of the disco ball. But now the Bee Gees mega-selling soundtrack has erupted over the speakers and I perform my first Travolta move, which is flinging off my white coat. In truth, I have used an amalgam of moments from the movie for maximum effect and I have invented my own John Travolta sneer with one my upper lip raised and my eyes confident.
I begin with the classic bent body Travolta pelvic thrusts. This is done with one finger gyrating upward and my body pistoning in simulated copulation. I bring my finger down and start across the gym. My patent leather shoes are a bit more slippery on the gym floor but this is good for my first splits, which I perform flawlessly although my testicles hit the floor and the pain is intense. But I have enough adrenalin to forget about the pain and the rip that goes right through the crotch of my pants. So I move to the second phase, which resembles a chicken dance with arms akimbo and the hand moving across the face and then back up toward the sky then back down to the ground. I move back to pelvic thrusts going right then left right then left then right then left then a spin coming out into the iconic dance move where the finger again goes up in fierce declaration of dance fever. I have another split, which I perform flawlessly but my gonads once again smash the floor and I pull a groin muscle, and my pants split to the point I can feel wind against my ass.
But I am now securely in my dance zone as John Travolta was and I see the faces with the same awed expression as in Saturday Night Fever and now I am repeating the iconic initial copulating thrusts straight ahead with a forty-five degrees angle and the pelvis moving upward, which was originated by Elvis Presley on the Ed Sullivan show and not shown to the American public by camera shots from the waist up as it was deemed too offensive for ‘50s-era America.
And now there is a variance in my routine as someone else has come out to join me. This is in keeping with the John Travolta iconic dance moment where others join into his dance in mutual celebration. I look over and see it is Coach Williams and my English teacher, Miss Fielding, who I notice are using much the same moves with more twists and dips. Obviously, they too have seen the era-defining movie that I have watched over a hundred tim
es, Saturday Night Fever.
And now there are others. I realize then my dance has been a success as the first problems have been mitigated by my routine. Amy has joined me in my dance, though I must admit her disco prowess is not that of the Coach. I put this down to age as the Coach was probably a teenager during the disco era and has muscle memory that I do not possess. And now Macy has joined in and is employing her athletic cheerleading dance moves, which amplifies the disco beat in a way I thought not possible.
Mom and Dad are by the concession table and not dancing. My routine may not have solved the issue of the impending divorce. Also, Randy and several of his cronies are waiting by the door to kick my ass once I return. I have positioned my John Shaft paraphernalia behind the concession table and will have to ready myself once my routine has completed, which has now spread out to the entire gym as the dance floor is full and everyone is celebrating my Saturday Night Fever Solo Dance Routine circa 2015. I do one more full split in celebration and smash my testicles one last time, but feel little pain.
SOLO
PAUL
I REMEMBER THE IEP meetings with Toby. They were like a rip fest on your kid. You basically sat there and listened to the other teachers tell you how stupid your kid was and how badly he was doing. Julie would always cry during these meetings and I would sit there with my thumb up my ass nodding while the teachers tattooed my kid to the wall. I wish now I had told those teachers to fuck off and had joined Julie’s side as she fought people with tenure and pedagogy with nothing more than a mom’s fierce drive to do anything for her son. These teachers were supposed to help him and maybe some of them did, but I think they just knocked the hell of his already diminishing self-esteem.
So when he started to strut out on the dance floor to Dance Fever I just sat there and marveled that he now had the balls to do something like Napoleon Dynamite in front of a gymnasium of his classmates. And I forgot in that moment that Julie and I had fallen into opposing camps. And maybe it was the disco ball and the gym with the bunting, but I felt like I was back at my own dance and my girl and I were celebrating together. And that’s why I reached out and put my hand on Julie’s shoulder. Maybe because we were the only people in the room who had not joined our son out on the dance floor and I felt the moment superseded all the hell that had preceded it.
My Best Year Page 11