Dancing Dudes

by Mike Knudson

  “All right!” I said. “I love spaghetti! Hey, and thanks for all the cowboy stuff. It’s great!”

  “I just wanted you to be the most handsome cowboy out there tomorrow,” Mom said, smiling.

  “Well, I am kind of excited about it. Except for one thing . . . dancing with Mrs. Gibson,” I said. “I just can’t believe I have to dance with the teacher.”

  “Oh, it won’t be so bad,” Mom said.

  After dinner I finished my homework and went to bed early. I closed my eyes for what seemed like a few seconds and it was morning. I had some cereal, brushed my teeth with my blue toothbrush, and headed down the street.

  “Howdy, pardner. Nice shirt,” I said to Graham, who was also in a Western shirt.

  “You, too, cowboy,” Graham answered. We both spoke with a Western accent.

  “You reckon there’s any chance of me dancin’ with little ol’ Kelly?” Graham said, walking bow-legged.

  “Well, I reckon not, cowboy,” I said. “It would take a heap of good luck for that to happen. How about me dancing with Heidi? Do you reckon that could still happen?”

  “No, there ain’t no way that’s happenin’ either . . . I reckon,” Graham said.

  We got to school and decided we would talk like cowboys the whole day. Everyone in our class had dressed up, except David. He punched me in the arm when I walked in and told me I looked like a dork. I don’t know what got into me, but I punched him right back and said, “I reckon you shouldn’t mess with old Tex.” David gave me a strange look and backed up to his seat, without even another punch.

  “Whoa, what was that all about?” Graham asked. “I’ve never seen David back off without getting in the last punch.”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s these cowboy clothes. They make me feel kind of tough or something,”

  “Or kind of manly,” Graham said. His eyes got big. “Hey, I think it’s my manly coaching paying off.”

  “Good morning, students,” Mrs. Gibson said. “You all look so festive today. Thank you for dressing up. David, I have an extra bandana you can wear.” David looked mad but didn’t say anything. “And everyone is here except Zach. I’m going to call his home to find out if he’s going to be able to make it. But if he won’t be here, Raymond, would you mind dancing with Heidi?”

  “Would I ever!” I blurted out. Everyone turned and looked at me. Diane started laughing. “I mean . . . I . . . um, reckon that would be all right.” I looked over at Graham, and he gave me a thumbs-up sign.

  We spent the rest of the morning doing regular school stuff. We had a spelling test and did some math. For some reason everything was more fun, even schoolwork, when I was dressed as a cowboy. In no time at all, it was time to line up for lunch.

  “What kind of grub do you reckon they’re cookin’ today?” I asked Graham on the way to the lunchroom.

  “Would you two stop talking like that!” Lizzy said, interrupting our Western conversation.

  “Well, I’m sorry, little lady, but I’m afraid that ain’t possible,” Graham said. “You see, we’re cowboys and that’s the way we talk.”

  “Then sit far away from me, because I can’t stand to hear you anymore!” Lizzy whined.

  “Sorry, ma’am. But we’ve been riding the range all morning and now it’s time for some grub. If the lunchroom ain’t big enough for the three of us, you may just have to find your own place to eat,” I said.

  She flipped her hair around and ignored us.

  Pretty soon we got more of our friends to start talking with a Western accent, and before we knew it, almost everyone in our class was speaking like cowboys. Mrs. Gibson didn’t even get mad when we spoke like that in class. She said she thought it was appropriate for the occasion.

  As soon as Lizzy heard that, she started speaking with an accent. “Howdy, Mrs. Gibson,” Lizzy said. “I think you’re the best darn teacher in the West.”

  “Don’t you mean, you ‘reckon’ she’s the best darn teacher in the West?” Graham added. Everyone laughed . . . except Lizzy.

  Finally, it was time for the performance. Mrs. Gibson told us how important it was to smile and keep dancing even if we made a mistake. We lined up and walked down to the auditorium. Mr. Fowl’s class was ahead of us. They went straight onto the stage to sing. We waited in the hall next to our dance partners. We listened and waited for our turn.

  “Raymond,” Mrs. Gibson said. “Zach’s mother said he wasn’t feeling well this morning, but that he would try to make it. However, since he’s not here yet, why don’t you line up next to Heidi?”

  I ran over and stood in Zach’s place next to Heidi. I looked at her and smiled. “Howdy ma’am,” I said. “I reckon I’m going to be dancing with you.” Somehow this cowboy costume even made it easier to think of things to say to girls. I wondered if I could start wearing a cowboy costume every day or if people would think I was weird.

  “I guess, if I have no other choice,” she laughed.

  Pretty soon the singing ended and we heard the audience clap. The backstage door opened and Mr. Fowl led his class into the hall. I looked back at Graham and saw his red hair poking out of the line. He was practicing dancing in place. Heidi looked at me and said, “Are you ready, cowboy?”

  “Yep,” I said. “I reckon I am.” As I walked onto the stage next to Heidi, I thought about the manly rules. I hadn’t cried, I had written a poem, I’d even talked to Heidi more than normal, and most importantly I was following rule number three: A man does whatever it takes to dance with his girl. Sure, I had a little help from Zach being absent, but it still counts.

  Mrs. Gibson held the stage door open while we all marched in, two by two, and got into our places. I was on the side closest to where our parents were sitting. As I looked over to wave at my mom and dad, my heart suddenly sank. Zach was walking in with his mom. He was dressed up in his Western clothes. His mom walked him up onto the stage close to where I was standing. Since we were all in our places already, Mrs. Gibson told Zach to come up and dance with her in the front. I could hear him from where I stood.

  “I can’t, I feel too sick,” he said.

  Whew, I thought.

  “Go on up, Zach,” his mom told him. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “I really don’t feel good,” he said.

  “That’s okay, Zach,” Mrs. Gibson said. Instead of being part of the dance, Mrs. Gibson walked to a free chair at the end of the front row and sat down.

  “Zach, do you really feel sick?” his mom asked after Mrs. Gibson was gone.

  “No, I just don’t want to dance with the teacher,” he said. “I won’t do it.”

  I looked over at Mrs. Gibson. She was sitting by herself all dressed up in her Western clothes. They didn’t look new. I figured they were probably the same clothes she wore dancing with her husband years ago. Then all of a sudden I did something I knew I would probably regret my whole life. I walked over to Zach and his mom, who had walked backstage.

  “Zach, do you want your regular spot by Heidi?” I asked. He looked at me and then at his mom.

  “Uh, yeah . . . if that’s okay with you. Thanks!” He hurried out to my empty spot next to Heidi.

  Maybe I just wasn’t cut out to be a man yet. I guess manly rule number three would have to wait until I was older. I walked down the big stage steps and over to Mrs. Gibson. “Um, howdy ma’am, do you reckon I could have this dance?” I asked, holding my arm out.

  She sat there silently for a moment, and when she looked up at me, her eyes were shining. “Why, that’s mighty kind of you, cowboy,” she said with a big wrinkly smile. She stood up and took my arm, and we walked up to our place in front of the group. Graham gave me an are you crazy? look as we passed by. I just smiled.

  Right then the music started. I have to admit we all looked great. Everyone do-si-doed perfectly and bowed at all the right times. When the dance ended, the audience cheered and we all bowed again. It was a great moment. Mrs. Gibson bent down and put her wrinkly face clo
se to mine.

  “Thank you for dancing with an old lady with gray hair and huge glasses. You’re a fine young man, Raymond,” she said. Then she walked away to talk to some parents.

  A chill went down my spine. She called me a fine young man! She didn’t say “baby” or even “boy.” She said man. As I stood there feeling good, Graham ran up to me.

  “Well, pardner,” he said. “That was pretty fun. We made it through our first dance. I reckon this makes us real dancin’ dudes.”

  “I reckon you’re right,” I answered.

  “And I don’t know what got into you back there,” Graham added. “You know, leaving Heidi to dance with Mrs. Gibson . . . but I have to admit that was mighty nice of you. And I reckon manly rule number six must be: Always do something nice for an old lady.”

  “Thanks, coach,” I said. But he wasn’t listening. “Graham?” I waved my hand in front of his face. He was staring at something over by the school doors. It was Kelly.

  “I’d like to stay and chat,” Graham said, his eyes still focused on Kelly, “but I see a cowgirl over there all alone. I think I’ll just mosey on over and see if I can interest her in one final do-si-do.” He shuffled away like he was still dancing. I laughed as I turned to go find my parents.

  “Whoa, sorry,” I said, turning and bumping into someone. “Oh, hey, Heidi,” I said. “Um . . . great dancing out there.” I hoped I hadn’t hurt her feelings by choosing to dance with Mrs. Gibson instead of her. “Sorry, Heidi, I really wanted to dance with you, and I hope you don’t think—”

  “Well, this is what I think,” Heidi said, smiling. “I reckon you were just being a darn nice cowboy.”

  Suddenly I had a funny feeling inside. It was a good funny feeling. I smiled back at her. “Shoooot, little lady,” I said, adjusting my cowboy hat farther back on my head. “That’s awful kind of you. May I walk you to your horse?” I said. I held out my arm and we both laughed.

  “Why, that would be mighty nice, cowboy,” Heidi said, taking my arm, and together we walked into the sunset. Well, into the parking lot.