by Tina Sears
“Alice and Bob? They prance around the dance floor like ducks flapping their wings.”
“I’m just saying. I’m tired of entering the dance every year because we always win. Let someone else win.”
“I don’t want to let someone else win! It’s the only thing I look forward to all summer.”
“Keep your voice down.”
When dinner was ready, he hopped over to the table, ignoring his crutches. For such a great dancer, Uncle Butch wasn’t very coordinated without his dancing shoes. I smiled, happy in the knowledge that I put him out of commission, not only from hurting me again, but from dancing in the contest. The only thing I think he really loved. And I took it away.
Chapter Nineteen
Dance Competition
IT WAS FRIDAY morning and we were on the porch enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Uncle Butch couldn’t drive so he gave his work number to Bob and told him to call and tell his work that he was sick.
He was sick all right, but his swollen knee didn’t make it so.
“Tonight’s a big night,” Wendy said excitedly. “It’s the bicentennial dance contest.”
“Keep it down.” Uncle Butch’s voice was gruff.
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I can’t wait. I’m going to wear my blue shorts and my red-and-white striped shirt. I want to get into the spirit. What are you going to wear, Chris?”
“I guess I’ll wear my blue shorts too. I have a white shirt, but I don’t have any red. I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find something red for you to wear. Besides, we have to look good for our dates,” Wendy said.
“Dates? I told you not to hang out with those boys anymore!” Uncle Butch said. “Besides, aren’t you girls a little young to be dating?”
Yeah, I was a little young for a lot of things, but that hadn’t stopped him.
“Get with the program, Dad. All the girls have dates for the dance tonight. It’s a dance contest and you have to have a partner to enter.”
“Really? Well then, Wendy, who is your date?”
“Owl,” Wendy said.
“Owl? That’s a funny name,” Uncle Butch said.
“I mean Max. Owl is his nickname,” Wendy said.
“Chris, who is your date?” Uncle Butch asked. I felt his eyes on me, making me feel dirty.
“Wendy calls it a date. It’s not.” I didn’t want to engage in this conversation with him.
“Well, then, who is your dance partner?”
“Dave,” I said, using Reds’ real name.
“The Johnson boy?”
I finally looked up and cut him a hard look. “Yeah, the Johnson boy. You know him, remember?” I asked with sarcasm.
I remembered. I remembered how he blew his hot breath into my ear. “I saw you dancing with that Johnson boy.”
“Yeah, I remember him.”
You’re damn right you do! I got up from the couch and Wendy and Uncle Butch blurred red and yellow under the morning sun as I left the room.
“Chris, where are you going?” Wendy asked.
“Bathroom,” I said over my shoulder.
I went into the little room with the stinking toilet, preferring to be in there than around him. I jammed both hands over my ears, drowning out any sound.
I finally re-emerged and heard the neighbor woman. “How you doing, Butch?” She was standing outside the porch.
“Hi, Alice. Doing okay,” Uncle Butch said.
“I heard you got water on the knee.”
“Yeah.” He held up his crutches. “I’ve got to use these to get around.” His voice had an edge.
“Well, we both hope you get better real soon. Maybe we’ll see you at the dance later?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was harsh. Angry.
I smiled at Uncle Butch’s suffering.
The teapot whistled. I heard the crutches tangle and the wood knock together as he tried to get up.
“Come on, Wendy,” I whispered. “Let’s get out of here. I need to thank Mrs. Weaver for Oreo.” Paige was still sitting at the table. I mouthed to her so Uncle Butch wouldn’t hear me. “Want to come?”
She nodded and we skedaddled out of there as fast as we could.
Cody and Callie were in front of their cottage. “Hey, Paige, are you going to decorate your bike for the parade tomorrow?” Their bikes were draped in red, white, and blue crepe paper. Cody was weaving the red roll in and out of the spokes of his bike’s tire.
Callie threw her blue roll down into the basket on the front of her bike. “I can’t do it.”
Paige stepped closer. “Want me to help?”
“Sure,” Callie said. Cody smiled big when Paige brushed by him to get to Callie’s bike.
We left Paige with the twins and headed over to Crazy Mary’s.
As soon as I saw the sun-washed cottage, I quickened my steps, eager to feed the cats. I looked under the sagging porch. A group of cats were huddled together in the shadow where the earth was still damp. Midnight’s eyes glowed back at me like two little flashlights in the dark. Then we walked up the steps, sat down, and fed the other cats. Those that were brave enough to come up to us, that is.
Wendy talked about the dance. She could hardly contain her excitement. “I can’t wait.”
I was excited too. Not like her though. Her life hadn’t been altered. Her monsters were still imaginary and lived under the bed. No. My excitement was about stopping A Monster. Taking something away from him like he did to me. I couldn’t have planned a better prank. A better outcome.
I got lost in our conversation and was startled when the front door swooshed open.
“I thought I heard you girls out here.” She had the sweetest voice.
“Hi.” I stood up and brushed the back of my shorts off.
Wendy followed my lead and stood up too.
“I wanted to say thank you. You know, for Oreo.”
She smiled and nodded. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
“We got into some trouble and were put on restriction.”
“Everything okay now?”
“Yes.”
“You take care of yourself and that little kitty. Cats can be a great comfort. And if you take care of them, they will take care of you.”
I thought about cuddling with Oreo. About crying into his fur at night when everyone else was asleep. How he purred when I rubbed his head. That was my favorite sound in the world. It helped me push the demons out of my head so I could fall asleep. “I promise to take good care of him.”
“Good. I knew you would. That’s why I picked you to be his mama.”
Mrs. Weaver’s sweet voice telling me that she chose me made me want to cry. Then the thought of my own mother came rushing into my head. “I’ll be a good mama.”
She nodded.
“Come on. Let’s go get ready for the dance.” Wendy tugged my sleeve.
A FEW HOURS later we headed to the pavilion to meet up with our friends. Uncle Butch was still mad that he couldn’t enter the dance contest and said he wasn’t going. Aunt Lori knew we had plans so she told us to go ahead and they would meet us later. We left as fast as we could before she could change her mind.
It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Red, white, and blue bunting draped the entire structure of the porch on the outside. Replica lanterns from 1776 were hanging in a line around the pavilion and it was truly aglow. Red roses bloomed brightly around the perimeter and the contrast with the green grass was breathtaking. A banner hung over the entrance to the pavilion that read, “1776 to 1976, 200 years of Independence.” Funny, it seemed like two hundred years since my mother dropped me off.
It was the biggest weekend of the summer at Shady Grove. People had gathered on the lawn. The music started up and we all started moving inside like ants to cake.
“Look at the tables!” I said.
They were covered in stars-and-stripes tablecloths, but they w
ere made to look old-fashioned and worn, like they had actually covered tables in the Revolutionary times.
The dance floor quickly got crowded as the DJ played. I recognized a few faces. There was Dr. Ferguson and his wife, Cody and Callie’s babysitter, and the black-haired girl. More importantly, I didn’t see Uncle Butch and I felt relieved.
Reds whispered in my ear in a way that made me relax. “Come on, dance with me.”
“Okay.” The pounding of the drums made my heart quicken. We weaved through the crowd to the center of the room and found a little opening between dancing couples. Reds smiled and moved his hips while holding my hands. I followed his lead and soon we were dancing together. The more we danced, the better we got. Soon Julie and Tommy were next to us showing off their superior dancing skills. Wendy and Owl joined in too.
A new song came on. The only words I could make out were “shake your booty.”
I saw Aunt Lori and Uncle Butch sitting at one of the tables by the door. Uncle Butch was holding his bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. He sipped directly from it and pointed it toward us. Next to them was Bob and Alice and everyone was smiling and talking, except Uncle Butch who was pouting and putting a large dent in his bottle of whiskey. We of course had no whiskey because Freckles was not here, and besides, we were being watched closely. Plus, I didn’t want to get into any more trouble.
Later, the announcer blew into the microphone and the speakers crackled. “It’s time for everyone who entered the Swing Dance Contest to please come to the concession stand and get your numbers.”
We cleared the center of the dance floor and couples picked out prime real estate in front of the judges. The women pinned the numbers on the backs of the men’s shirts and waited patiently. The music began and the contestants sprang to life. They danced full steam ahead, and it was glorious.
Alice and Bob shocked the crowd with an over-the-shoulder-and-through-the-legs move. Everyone clapped, including me. Other women let their skirts fly too, but not as impressively as Alice and Bob. Dr. Ferguson and his wife were showing off their fancy footwork and underarm turns too, but his weight slowed him down and he tired easily. I was increasingly impressed as the competition got fierce on the dance floor.
One judge walked around the dancers, watching. When he tapped the man’s back, the couple had to leave the dance floor. Dancing couples dwindled until there were only two left, including Alice and Bob. I didn’t know the other, but I’d seen them at the dances before.
After a few more dances, the music stopped. The announcer blew into the microphone. “Okay, folks. Let’s give our contestants a round of applause. They did a great job.” Everyone clapped, except Uncle Butch. “We will have a short break while the judges decide the winner from our two finalists.” He pointed to the last two couples on the dance floor. Everyone clapped again.
Uncle Butch hobbled on one crutch out the door before they announced the winners. He was drunk and being a poor sport. Aunt Lori followed behind him, trying to help, but he just shooed her away. She motioned for us to come over to her, so we quickly said goodbye to everyone and left before we could find out who won.
Chapter Twenty
Independence Day
IT WAS SATURDAY, and I was excited not for the festivities, but mostly because I knew that since Uncle Butch couldn’t drive, Aunt Lori would have to take me to Mount Adams to call my mom. I felt free. It was my chance to escape. I jumped out of bed and ran straight for the kitchen where I found Aunt Lori starting breakfast.
“Good morning, sweetie. Your uncle is still asleep, so keep it down for a bit.”
“Need any help?” I asked.
“No, honey, have a seat and drink some orange juice.” I poured a glass from the pitcher on the table. “I thought we would take it slow this morning. Your uncle is not feeling very well. We’ll go to the parade after lunch.”
“When can you drive me to the house so I can call my mom?” I asked with anticipation.
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I don’t drive.”
Thunder struck my ears. I didn’t think I heard her right. “What?”
“I don’t drive.”
How could I have not known? I thought about it. The trips to their house in Mount Adams to get clean clothes and fresh supplies, and the trips to the grocery store—it was always Uncle Butch who drove. And then there was the trip to the emergency room. It was Bob who drove. My mom drove everywhere and I couldn’t imagine an adult who couldn’t drive. I thought that Aunt Lori was just being a good wife by letting Uncle Butch drive everywhere. After all, she was that kind of woman.
“How am I going to call my mom?” I asked.
“I don’t know, sweetie.” She looked at me apologetically. “When your uncle gets up, we’ll talk about it then, promise.”
“She’ll freak out if I don’t call today,” I said, my voice rising.
“I know. We’ll figure something out. Maybe your uncle can drive you if his knee is not too swollen.”
I said nothing. There was a fire burning in my stomach.
“I’ll get the rest of the lazy bunch up,” Aunt Lori said. She left and the smell of flowers drifted behind her. She went into the bedroom where Uncle Butch was still sleeping.
It was fifteen minutes before everyone was up and at the table. Uncle Butch stumbled in on his crutches, asking for aspirin. He sat down at the breakfast table across from me.
“Honey, do you think you can drive Chris to the house to call her mother?”
“I don’t think so. But I’ll take her as soon as I can drive again. Probably in a few days.”
Not alone. That would never happen. I would rather hug a porcupine before going to the house alone with him. Or anywhere alone with him, for that matter.
“She’ll be so worried if I don’t call today.”
Aunt Lori walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder. “She’ll understand. Promise.” She should stop making promises she couldn’t keep.
Uncle Butch stuffed aspirin into his mouth and grumbled. “I don’t think I’ll be going to the parade or the fireworks today. I feel more dead than alive.”
“Aw, Dad,” Paige whined. “You’re not going to watch me in the parade?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you girls,” Aunt Lori said. “I had a feeling your daddy wouldn’t be feeling very good today. There’s no reason you girls should miss the bicentennial events though. Two hundred years in the making. It’s going to be fun, you’ll see.”
“Yay,” Paige said.
Around one o’clock, we all left for the parade, except Uncle Butch. We dropped Paige and her decorated bike off at the staging area for the parade. We went to the viewing area where we found a place to stand next to Bob and Alice.
A few seconds later, Aunt Lori was getting the scoop about the dance contest. It was obvious that they had won by the way Alice was moving around. She was sort of bouncing up and down with her hands clasped together as if in prayer in front of her.
I saw the gang down the way and waved. Wendy waved too.
“Mom, can we go watch the parade with our friends?” Wendy asked.
“Okay, but don’t go too far.”
“Come on,” Wendy said.
“Hey,” Reds said and put his hand around my waist. Everyone else greeted us too, but my main concern was Reds.
We talked for a few minutes, but when we heard music, we turned to watch the parade. A band in red uniforms marched by. My favorite thing about a band were the drums, especially the big round ones that made such a loud boom it echoed in your heart.
The band was followed by straggling lines of kids riding their bikes, decorated in red, white, and blue. I saw Paige and the twins near the front. Paige waved and her handle bars swerved hard, almost knocking her off the bike. We waved back. The excitement was gaining momentum.
Next was a platform being pulled by a large truck that was full of Veterans dressed in military uniforms from all different wars. One man was in a wheelchair, smiling
and waving at the crowd that had formed along the front of the pavilion’s lawn. I almost cried when I noticed how proud they looked.
After the platform of Veterans, there was a walking formation of Revolutionary British soldiers in red coats, funny hats, and black boots. They were carrying long skinny rifles, the tip tucked up by their shoulders. They were followed by women in long dresses, who looked very hot. Behind them were the American soldiers and women following behind a large American flag. Some had uniforms but most didn’t.
And at the end of the parade, two cannons were being pulled by farm tractors. We all clapped as the last of the parade walked by us and then dispersed onto the lawn.
After a few minutes I heard a loud whistle moan. “What was that?”
“It’s the steamboat,” Wendy said.
Everyone gathered behind the pavilion, where it overlooked the river from the hill and we all waited for the steamboat to get closer.
I caught sight of it, barely visible from around the bend. It got closer, and I saw the smokestack billow a dragon’s breath that brought the boat to life. I had never before seen the beauty of a real paddleboat, and I knew I would always remember it. I could hear the roar of water churning as a great wheel on the back thrust the boat forward chopping the water into a furious froth.
I could make out the faces of some of the passengers who were smiling and waving at the gathering crowd behind the pavilion. I wondered where they came from or where they were going. I listened to the song of the travelling water and it lured me into a fantasy where I was one of the passengers, ready for a new adventure, one far away from here. I could smell the cherry tobacco of a man’s pipe and could see the sparkle of a woman’s diamond ring, or so I imagined.
After the steamboat paddled out of sight, we followed the crowd back out front onto the lawn. A huge barbecue grill was on the side of the pavilion with hotdogs scattered over it, and Cincinnati chili was next to it in a big pot. Two men were manning the grill and several women were around a table next to it, getting the condiments and buns ready. There was also a big bowl of baked beans and a large orange cooler full of lemonade.