“Tell Amelia thanks again for me,” Mama said as she pulled into the church parking lot later that evening. Red had come along, too, under the guise of running the sound system while Amelia ran the “All Company rehearsal.”
“I’m grateful to Amelia for stepping in tonight and for setting us up with this potential donor. We’ll swing by on our way back from dinner to pick you two up.”
I noticed that Mama was gripping the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles had turned a shade lighter than the rest of her hand.
“I’m sure this donor will get us what we need,” I said, trying my best to look confident when Mama glanced at me in the rearview mirror. I didn’t know who this donor was, but Amelia assured me he did actually have the potential to help our cause. I closed my eyes for a quick second, willing this mystery donor to hand over at least a few thousand bucks, then grabbed my dance bag.
“I have a good feeling about tonight,” I said, getting out of the car behind Red. “You’ll see, Mama.”
Mama nodded. “Thanks, Gabby. Will you do me a favor? Will you dedicate your dance to Liberty tonight? Send some extra energy toward getting our home back? We need all the help we can get.”
“Oh, I will,” I said. “You can be sure of that.” I waved as she drove away, then followed Red into the rec room.
The scene in front of me reminded me of our first day at the church. People were chatting, excitement in their voices, ready to see what this was all about, ready to try something new. My heart started tap dancing. They were waiting to learn something new from me.
“Told you we’d come, Gabby!” Bria ran up to me, with Alejandro and Isaiah close behind. “You did great on the video, by the way. We can’t wait to do the dance for real!”
“Thanks,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”
Besides the poetry kids, most of the dance company girls were there, plus Mr. Stan, and Mr. and Mrs. Blake, too. There were also two people I’d never seen before. A skinny woman with blonde hair streaked with hot pink and a tall man with dreadlocks.
Teagan and Amelia came up beside me. “Wait! I know him!” I said, pointing the to the dreadlocks guy. “He’s the first person who signed my petition!”
He caught my eye and waved. I waved back. The rally seemed like forever ago. Back then, we didn’t know if we’d ever be in Liberty again. We still didn’t, but that was what tonight was all about.
As if on cue, Isaiah tapped me on the shoulder. “Just about time to start,” he said, “and thus, I’d like to say, ‘When you do dance, I wish you a wave o’ th’ sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.’”
“Uh, thanks,” I said. Then I did a little curtsy to Isaiah. It just seemed right. Isaiah laughed and bowed back.
I turned to Amelia, who gestured to the front of the room where she or Mama usually stood.
“Over to you, Miss Gabby.”
The taps in my chest picked up speed. I gave Amelia a small smile, then turned to face my students. You can do this, Gabby. It’ll be just like when you practiced with Maya this morning.
Except everyone was a lot less furry than Maya. And a whole lot more human. I took a cue from Red’s book and clapped loudly, giving my words a couple extra seconds to organize themselves.
“Thank you all sssssssso much for coming tonight. Is e-e-everybody ready to dance for Liberty?”
Forty voices shouted back at me, “Yeah!” Well, maybe thirty-nine. Alejandro was standing off in a corner, trying to look invisible. I was starting to think Bria had dragged him there. Still, he was there. I had to remember to tell him later how much that meant to me.
“Sssso we’re going to run through everything from the top, and then work in some spoken word that Rrrred and I have been trying out. We’ll also figure out who can hand out Dream Together cards after the dance and all that jazz, and go over the plan for arriving at the park on Saturday. Sound good?”
Forty heads nodded.
“All right, then,” I said loudly, as Amelia cued up the music. “Dance company girls, get ready on the sides; you come in on the faster music. E-E-Everyone else, stay to the sides and I’ll cue you in when it’s time. Brittney? You take center stage.”
It had been my idea to start the dance with a soloist, and Amelia had suggested Brittney. I was nervous about asking her, but if she was still hung up on whatever upset her that day she gave me the dirty look, she didn’t show it. “Absolutely,” she’d said when I’d asked her.
People shifted to the edges of the room until it was just Brittney in the center. I nodded to Amelia and took a deep breath. Here we go, Liberty. This is all for you.
“Five. Six. Five, six, seven, EIGHT!”
When Mama picked us up that night, I think I may have floated into the car. Rehearsal had gone well, with the exception of Red hitting Alejandro in the back of the head during the whip and nae nae. But in the grand scheme of things, I was calling tonight a success. There was only one moment where I let my frustration over my words get the best of me, which Amelia took as an opportunity to suggest a water and bathroom break. A quick pep talk to myself in the bathroom stall and I was ready to get back out there. Liberty was calling.
“So what do you think, Maya?” I said, changing out of my sweaty dance clothes into my snuggly pj’s and slippers. She was curled up in my chair, as usual. “Think this park performance will push us over our goal? We have only two days left.”
Maya flicked her tail as if to say, “Why are you asking me?”
“Because, Maya,” I said, climbing up to my bed. “Not getting back into Liberty would be like you never sleeping in my furry chair again. I’m sure you’d find another spot, but it would never be as good as this one. Am I right?”
Maya let out a little meow.
Amelia was right. Cats did make everything better.
All classes and rehearsals were canceled on Friday—we needed that time to raise money. We set the bracelets aside, and Mama and Daddy let us help with phone calls. We also had to confirm our plan for getting most of the performers to the park without the adults finding out.
Just when I thought Amelia couldn’t possibly pull off another top-secret mission, she did. This time she asked Mama if the Senior Company could take the Junior Company out for a picnic in the park on Saturday.
This earned Amelia one of Mama’s Are-You-For-Real looks when she FaceTimed Mama on Friday morning. “You mean to tell me the seniors want to hang out with the younger dancers? Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” Amelia said, nodding until she started to look like the bobble-head ornament in the rear window of Mr. Harmon’s car. “For a lot of them, this is their last year as center regulars. They’d like to spend a little quality time with the other dancers before they go. They love the juniors!”
Mama raised one eyebrow. Even I thought Amelia was laying it on a bit thick. Sure, the senior dancers were nice to us juniors, but more often than not, they treated us like their annoying little sisters.
“Why tomorrow?” Mama asked.
Amelia didn’t miss a beat. “We realized last night that this is the only weekend everyone’s free before the seniors go away. So it’s now or never.”
“And,” I cut in, “tomorrow would have been Rhythm and Views. We wanted to do something special.”
Mama’s eyebrows went up, and she took a deep breath. “You’re right, Gabby. Of course.”
“So is it cool?” Amelia asked.
Mama sighed. “Yes. Someone ought to have some fun tomorrow.”
“Great,” Amelia said. “I’ll swing by and pick up Gabby around eleven. Try to get some rest, Miss Tina.”
“Yeah,” Mama said, and then, “Oh, hey, Amelia—could you check in with your contact? He said last night he had to crunch some numbers, but we haven’t heard back from him. I’m not sure what we’re going to do if he doesn’t come through.”
“Will do, Miss Tina. Will do,” Amelia said, then waved to me. “I’ll spread the news about the picnic tomorrow, okay?”
I gave her a thumbs-up.
Mama ended the call and put down her phone, only to pick it up to dial the number of another community member.
“Okay if I make some calls from the porch?” I asked Daddy. I wanted to text Teagan about the plan and was also afraid that if I watched Mama stress out any longer, I’d slip about the park dance.
Daddy nodded. “Sure. And thank you for all you’ve doing for the center these last couple of weeks, kiddo. I know you’d probably rather be hanging out with your friends.”
“I’m happy to help, Daddy,” I said. “Really.”
Hopefully by this time tomorrow, that would be loud and clear. I just hoped our help was enough.
Liberty is more than just a center
It’s us, it’s me, it’s the heart of all who enter
It’s Mama’s dream of arts for all
A place to catch you if you fall
The studios, theater, spots unknown
They live inside us
We are their home
I woke up Saturday morning with our performance song already on repeat in my head. My feet involuntarily started practicing steps while I brushed my teeth. As I passed Red’s bedroom to head downstairs, I heard him talking on the phone.
That was odd. He usually talked to his mom later in the day. I hoped everything was okay. I’d made it to the bottom step when he flung his door open and came thundering down behind me.
“Who were you talking to?” I asked.
“Nunya.” That was Red’s way of saying “none of your business.”
I rolled my eyes. Even Red being his annoying self wasn’t going to bring me down.
Mama and Daddy were already at the kitchen table, talking softly. A brown bag folded over at the top sat on the table in front of them. They looked up when they saw Red and me.
“I went over to Main Line Bagels,” Daddy said. “Help yourselves.”
I could tell he was trying to sound happier than he really was. Red and I sat down quietly. I pulled out a cinnamon raisin bagel for me and an everything bagel for Red.
“I just wish he’d let us know one way or the other,” Mama said to Daddy. “I can’t stand this limbo. And I’m not sure what more we can do between now and Monday morning.”
“I know, Tina. I know.” Daddy placed a hand on Mama’s back and made gentle circles. Some of Mama’s stress seemed to melt away. She gave Daddy a small smile, then turned to Red and me.
“Where are we at with Dream Together?” I asked, except it came out as “Woh wa ah wih ah fur fu?” due to the hunk of bagel in my mouth. Red translated.
“Still six thousand to go,” Mama replied. She sat up straighter. “Hopefully, this donor will come through. It’s a lot, but I don’t mean to worry you two. I’m glad you’re going to the park today, Gabby. What are you up to, Red?”
This was Red’s chance to get to the park, too. “Actually, I was thinking I could go the park with the dancers and shoot some hoops while they make flower crowns or whatever else girls do at the park.”
“Practice our leaps, probably,” I said. “Get a group of dancers in a wide open space and we can’t resist using it as a stage.” I risked a wink at Red.
“Sounds like a good plan all around,” Mama said. “I’m headed out to meet up with Mr. Harmon to discuss some things. I’ll see you two later.” She kissed each of us on the top of our heads and grabbed her keys from the counter. “And you, mister,” she said, turning to Daddy. “You know your homework.”
“Yep,” Daddy said. “Make six thousand dollars appear like magic by the time you get back. And eat some nachos. I’m on it.”
“What was that last part?” Mama asked.
“Nachos,” Daddy said. “They help me concentrate.”
“That’s one hundred percent true, Uncle Rob. One hundred percent true.”
Boys could be so weird sometimes.
Amelia picked us up at eleven o’clock on the dot. We said good-bye to Daddy and his nachos and then swung by Teagan’s house.
“Hey, guys,” Teagan said, climbing into the car with a backpack stuffed to the max. “I feel like I’m forgetting something. I’ve got two hundred Dream Together cards, four beanies to collect money in plus the one on my head, two bottles of sunscreen, some pens in case we need to write anything down, bug spray in case there are bugs, extra sunglasses in case anyone forgot some—”
“Whoa there, buddy,” Red said. “I think somebody’s a little nervous about today, huh?”
“Am not!” Teagan said, her face turning pink. “I just like to be really prepar—”
Red and I gave her twin looks; we weren’t buying any of it.
“Yeah, okay,” she admitted. “I’ve been up since five o’clock. I might be a tad nervous about dancing in front of a crowd. You all saw my running man. I have good reason.”
That was true. Her running man looked like a limping llama at best, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I shifted to better face her. “It’s not about the dancing. You know that, Teagan.”
“Yeah,” Red added from the front seat. “Who cares if your running man looks like a spastic goat careening down a treacherous hillside? You saw mine.” Teagan furrowed her brow in either shock or disgust. Maybe both. I rolled my eyes at Red. Leave it to him to say what I was thinking. And more.
“What Red means is that nobody’s going to notice if you’re doing the steps just right. It’s about making a statement. Right, Amelia?”
“Totally. I can’t wait to see you all knock it out of the park.”
“You’re going to do great,” I said, finding Teagan’s hand on the seat.
“Thanks,” Teagan said. “I’d do anything for Liberty, but maybe next time we can save the world with HTML.”
“Deal,” I said, right as Amelia pulled into the parking lot of Lincoln Park.
The sun was out today and lots of families had packed for all-day cookouts. Anywhere there was shade, there were tables set up with dishes of beans or rice or ribs. And burgers—I definitely smelled burgers. My stomach growled.
We made our way to the area near the basketball courts, dodging little kids playing tag.
“You guys good here?” Amelia asked, once we’d found a spot near the courts and laid a blanket out. I nodded, though my insides were doing switch leaps, flipping and flopping on themselves. “Great. I’ll go make sure we’re all set up for sound.”
“And I’m going to talk to the guys on the courts,” Red said. “Give them a heads-up about what we’re about to do. Only seems right if we plan to interrupt their game.”
“Sounds good,” I said, pulling my phone from my dance bag. 11:34. We’d told other participants to be in the park by eleven forty-five. We were to spread out, blending in with the normal park-goers. We didn’t want to attract any attention before twelve o’clock, when Brittney would go out into the middle of the basketball court and start us off.
I sat down on the blanket next to Teagan, who was laying out the contents of her backpack in a neat row. Flyers, hats, sunglasses, sunscreen. I let my friend do her thing and lay down on my back, grabbing a corner of the blanket. At Liberty, I always rubbed the edge of the stage curtain to calm my nerves. The blanket would have to do for today.
As I watched the leaves sway overhead, I was reminded of a move in the dance and before I knew it, I was reviewing the steps in my head. The switch leaps in my stomach calmed down with each phrase.
I was just getting to the part where everyone joined in when someone shouted, “Go long!” A second later, a kid was diving for a football just inches from my head.
“Hey!” I said, propping myself up on my elbows. “Watch where you’re—Oh. Hi, Alejandro.”
“Hey there. Sorry ’bout that. Good catch, though, yeah?” He rolled over onto the blanket next to me.
“‘Youth is full of sport, age’s breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame,’” Isaiah said, running up to the blanket and giving a confused Alejandro a high five. Bria showed up shortly afte
r. So much for spreading out across the park.
“What time is it?” Alejandro asked, just as Red returned from the court.
“Two minutes after the last time you asked,” Bria said.
She had claimed a spot on the blanket, too, her head almost touching mine. Teagan’s head was near my hip; Isaiah and Red were on her other side. The switch leaps started up again, but they were lighter this time.
“No really,” Alejandro said. “What time is it?”
I pulled out my phone. “Eleven fifty-seven.” Three minutes. I took a deep breath and gazed at the tips of buildings peeking over from the edges of the park. “We’re big-time now,” I said.
“Ready for crowds,” Teagan continued.
“Skyscraper-high, touching clouds.” All of our voices were one.
Here we go, Gabby, I said to myself. Time to fly.
Two minutes later, I was standing on the edge of a basketball court, all my senses on alert, as Amelia slowly faded in the music. This remix of “You Can’t Stop the Beat,” was slow at first, almost like the singer was whispering a secret. Brittney raised one arm above her head and then the other as the artist sung about unstoppable forces—an avalanche, the seasons, her dancing feet.
And Liberty, I silently added, as Brittney launched into a spiral turn. Contemporary wasn’t my favorite style, but it was perfect for this part—the movements made what came next all the more exciting. As the artist sung about feeling lost and then finding her way, the leaps in my belly gave way to tap dancers pounding in my chest. We weren’t about to let a little power outage stop the beating heart of Liberty.
Brittney finished out the slow part with a graceful a la seconde turn and then …
“FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT!” I shouted right along with the singer and everyone else as the senior and junior girls rushed the court, then launched into the routine. A shot of adrenaline raced through my veins and I hit the steps hard. Had I kicked this high in rehearsal?
On the next verse, we turned to face the side of our “stage.” The players on the other basketball court had stopped their game and were watching us. Kids were lining up on the play structure to get a better view, too. Just you wait, I thought. This is nothing.
Gabriela (American Girl Page 9