by Amy Harmon
Maggie gasped and began searching the faces around her. He would have been here. The figures dimmed, and Maggie feared the vision would suddenly cease. Desperate, she pulled her glasses from her eyes, clutching them in her hand. Sure enough, the figures sharpened again, their faces as clear and their clothing as vibrant as if they were truly present. Was that Irene? A girl in fluffy peach sat by herself at a table with a huge shell centerpiece. She looked like she wished she wasn’t there. Maggie’s breath caught, seeing her aunt as a young girl. Her hair curled around her shoulders, and jewels sparkled at her ears and wrists. She was lovely. She fiddled with the drink in front of her and stared out at the dance floor longingly. A couple joined her at the table, and Irene’s eyes lit up and her face and hand motions became animated as she spoke to her friends. Then several couples danced between where Maggie stood and Irene sat, blocking her view. Maggie commenced searching for Johnny once more.
There! Against the back wall, standing beneath the banner. Something about the figure was familiar. Maggie leaned this way and that, searching for the boy beyond the milling apparitions. All the boys were dressed in white jackets and black pants, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other. There he was again. It was Johnny! Maggie angled for a better look. A blonde girl with a truly magnificent cleavage was standing close to him, holding onto his lapel and smiling up at him flirtatiously. Maggie’s heart twisted painfully in her chest, and she wished she hadn’t been so eager to identify the familiar face. She gripped her glasses tightly. Johnny may not want her anymore, but she didn’t think she could watch him with another girl, even if it had all been long ago.
A tall, sandy-haired boy with an easy smile and the requisite white jacket appeared beside Johnny and whisked the buxom blonde from Johnny’s arms and out onto the dance floor. The boy laughed back at Johnny as if he’d scored the winning shot. Johnny just smiled and shrugged as he watched the couple twirl away. Suddenly he froze, and he seemed to be looking right at her. Maggie turned, trying to determine what held him transfixed. She couldn’t see beyond the couples surrounding her, and she turned toward him again.
He seemed to be looking at her, but he wasn’t the only one staring. Irene’s eyes were trained on her as well, a slight furrow between her slim eyebrows. Roger Carlton stood behind Irene with his hands braced on her chair, and he straightened, his eyes narrowing in recognition, as if he had just noticed her too. Surely they weren’t looking at her!
Maggie looked down at the clothes she was wearing and then back up again, almost dizzy with the illusion she was witnessing. She was still wearing snug black dance shorts and a bright pink sports bra, with a thin white tank over the top. Her feet were bare and her hair was bound back in a long ponytail, and if she were actually visible, the whole room would be gawking. But the couples dancing around her seemed completely unaware of her presence -- as was always the case in her visions. One couple danced so close she should have been able to feel the swish of the girl’s skirt and the brush of their bodies moving past. She felt no such thing. Yet Johnny was transfixed, staring at her as if he couldn’t look away. He’d started making his way toward her, moving between the tables that lined the dance floor.
Maggie turned again, scanning the room for what could have so captured his attention. A flash of red caught her eye, and she strained on tiptoe to see beyond the dancing crowd. A girl in red stood in the entrance to the gym. Maggie sidestepped another couple attempting the jive and strained to get a better view. Johnny continued to move toward her, and had Maggie not seen the girl in red, she would have sworn he was looking at her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she rubbed her hands anxiously on her dance shorts.
He was ten feet away. Gus’s fear-filled eyes rose up in her memory, his warning sounding like a clanging bell in her head. “Be careful, Miss Margaret. My grandma wasn’t just an observer of the past; she was a full-fledged participant.” Maggie closed her eyes, shutting out Johnny’s approaching figure, pressing her hands to her face, willing herself away from the dizzying promenade taking place around her.
“Maggie?” Johnny’s voice was filled with question as his hands settled on her shoulders.
Maggie cried out and stumbled back, her legs tangling beneath her. Johnny’s arms slid around her, and her eyes shot to his. He steadied her, his body firm and solid against her chest. Maggie’s eyes dropped to his shoulders encased in black cotton. No white sports coat, no perky pink carnation.
“Maggie?” He said her name again, and his eyebrows were drawn low over his sky blue gaze. “Are you all right?”
Maggie pulled free of his arms, looking around the empty gymnasium, where every trace of glimmering stars and glittering people had dissolved into the quiet present. She stood beneath the basketball hoop where she had seen the ghostly boy diligently practicing his shot. Her iPod made a new selection, a Katy Perry song with an addictive hook -- definitely not 1958.
“Maggie!” Johnny shook her a little, and his voice rose in concern.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out and pulled away again, but she felt her legs wobble beneath her. She slid ungracefully to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest, breathing deeply and trying to gain her bearings.
He didn’t answer her immediately but squatted down beside her, reaching out to tilt her chin toward him.
“Your pupils are so big your eyes look black,” he scolded, as if she had any control of what her pupils did.
“I’m fine,” Maggie protested, pulling her chin from his grasp. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
“You’re definitely not fine,” Johnny argued. Jillian had oh-so-innocently told him that Maggie danced before school started every day. Johnny knew Jillian thought he owed Maggie an apology, although she had never said as much. Jillian just kept dropping little bits of information, bringing Maggie’s name into the conversation, mentioning her dance team’s victory at their recent competition, telling him what a “lovely girl” she was.
Then last night Johnny had dreamed about Maggie again. They had been dancing on a beach, the moon lighting the sand and shimmering off the water. Music had drifted down around them and he had felt almost weightless, suspended in the sweetness of her smile, the feel of her arms around him, the slide of the silk bodice of her dress against his open palm. Johnny woke with Maggie’s name on his lips and such an aching yearning to see her that he had showered and come to the school, planning to watch her from a distance without revealing his presence. He had told himself once he saw her the feeling would abate.
Johnny had heard music from the hallway and he had hesitated, worried that he would give himself away when he opened the old gym door. Luck had been on his side because the door was propped wide and he slipped inside, the early morning shadows and the poor lighting of the ancient gymnasium providing sufficient cover. Maggie had been facing the opposite direction, moving to a song he had never heard before. He leaned against the metal bleachers and drank her in -- a lithe form in clothing designed to move but not to entice, though he found it did both. She took his breath away. The realization was met with swift resistance. He didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to need her.
Then the music changed, and Maggie stopped, turning as if she didn’t like the selection. It was a song Johnny had liked from the moment he heard it: the Skyliners singing “Since I Don’t Have You.” It was a brand new song his senior year in high school. He had probably danced to that song in this very gym, surrounded by his friends. Maggie spun, and for a minute Johnny was sure she had spotted him. She threw herself into the song, long limbs and sweet curves calling him to dance with her. He had found himself moving towards her, wanting to join her, wanting to close his eyes and move to the memory encased in the song. And then she had stopped, as if she’d forgotten the steps.
He’d stopped too, suddenly awkward and afraid, not knowing how to explain himself. But she had looked right through him. Johnny froze, watching her as she seemed to be lost in though
t, her eyes shifting here and there like she was taking in the details of the empty room. A small smile had played around her lips, and he had thought maybe she was playing with him. He moved toward her again, and this time Maggie’s eyes had locked on his. She had looked down at her clothes and then behind her, as if she couldn’t believe he was looking at her. He had said her name but she didn’t respond. She’d rubbed her eyes, almost as if she couldn’t believe he was there and he had said her name again, reaching for her as she swayed and staggered dizzily.
Now Maggie was looking at him as if she was losing her mind. Maybe she was... although he wouldn’t swear by his own sanity.
“I’m fine,” she said it again, this time with more conviction. “You just startled me.” She got to her feet defiantly and walked to her blinking music player. She pushed a button and silence filled the space where the music had been. Johnny didn’t comment but let her retreat, wishing he’d stayed in the shadows.
“Why are you here?” she asked again, and her voice was small, as if she didn’t really want to know.
“I came with Jillian.” Okay that was a lie, but he wasn’t about to tell her he had dreamed about her and couldn’t stay away. “I just wanted to see the old place.” Another lie; he didn’t care if he ever saw the old place - which had gotten significantly older since he’d last walked the halls. “She told me you might be here.” At last the truth, but where did he go from here?
Maggie nodded, waiting for him to explain further. He shrugged, pride warring with principle.
“I’m sorry I kissed you.” He was so full of shit; that was the one thing he wasn’t sorry about. “I mean, I’m sorry I...acted the way I did, that day in the garage. I asked you to come, and then I was a jerk. I’m sorry.”
Maggie seemed surprised by his admission, and her face relaxed into a smile. It warmed him, seeing the pleasure his apology brought her.
“It’s okay. I understand,” she said softly. “But thank you.”
A loud bell clanged through the gymnasium like a runaway train and Maggie and Johnny both jumped. Maggie cursed under her breath and seemed to realize she had lingered too long.
“I have to go...” She stuttered, grabbing up a duffle bag and forcing her music box inside of it. “I’ll see you soon...okay?”
Johnny nodded, and watched Maggie run from the gymnasium on light feet, leaving him alone, standing in a place that echoed with a million yesterdays. He thought he glimpsed a flash of red at the outside entrance , but when he turned his head there was nothing there.
~7~
A Time to Break Down
Teenagers spilled out of the brightly colored doors, several of them congregating on parked cars and leaning out of open windows. A huge burger, fries, and a shake topped the establishment, which used to be called The Malt. It had been renovated and expanded over the years, and it was now called Shimmy and Shake, because in addition to providing ice cream and food, there was a big, loud, old-fashioned jukebox off to one side and a small dance floor to make good use of the tunes. Everyone just called it Shimmies, and it was the place to be if you were above the age of fourteen and below the age of twenty- five. Families usually didn’t come inside to eat; it was too loud. Instead, they pulled up to the drive thru and left the dining room to the younger generation.
Maggie had been there a couple times with Shad. He liked to go out on the dance floor and try to impress the ladies with his skills, which might have worked if he’d had any dancing skills. Shad had been on her case since she got out of the hospital to “hit Shimmies.” She had used every excuse in the book, but after school that Friday, he had wheedled and begged her to take him, and now she was here, tired, hungry, still a little freaked out from the ghostie episode in the gym yesterday, and definitely not in the mood for Shimmies. But it was Friday night, and she really had nothing better to do.
As soon as they had walked in, Shad was off to work the room. At the moment, he was entertaining some new friends with a wild tale, his mouth working overtime, his hands flying with descriptive enthusiasm. The kids around him were laughing and listening, and Maggie felt a measure of relief that Shad was enjoying his new-found fame. Maybe it was because the jerks who had locked him in that locker and then forgot he was there when the school was on fire had made him their new pet. It was amazing what a guilty conscience could do. Their attention had drawn the admiration of others, and in just a matter of weeks since the fire, Shad was living in a whole new social hemisphere.
The smell of french fries and meat sizzling on the grill had Maggie’s stomach grumbling loudly, and she was thankful for the music pounding throughout the room that disguised her famished state. It was still early -- barely six o’clock -- and the place wasn’t full, but it would be soon. Maggie sank gratefully into an empty booth on the edge of the dance floor. She hadn’t even picked up the menu when she saw Johnny’s car pull into the lot. It was the last place she thought she would see him.
Johnny climbed out of the Bel Air and shut the door slowly. His eyes were wide as he checked out the cars littering the space – everything from trucks with monster wheels to VW Bugs but all of it a novelty. The girls spilling out of a few of the vehicles were almost as mind boggling. For a minute, Maggie imagined how strange everything must seem to him. The fashions had definitely changed. Dara Manning and several of her equally blonde friends chose that moment to pull up in Dara’s red Mustang convertible. The took the only spot open in the whole lot, mainly because it was marked Handicapped. That didn’t stop Dara, and she and her friends checked their lipstick and fluffed their hair as Johnny checked them out. Maggie could hardly blame him – there was an awful lot of skin on display-- but she suddenly really wished she wasn’t there.
It took about two seconds for Dara to notice Johnny. Her brows shot up and she said something under her breath to Carly Nelson, sitting beside her in the passenger seat. Carly’s head swiveled around, and Johnny, as if realizing he had totally lost his cool ogling everyone around him, turned and walked to the door without a backward glance. Maggie felt silly sitting all alone in the red booth and wished she had thought to head to the bar when she’d seen Johnny. Of course, he spotted her as soon as he walked in. He didn’t wave or nod, and he took in the joint for several long seconds before he headed her way.
Maggie tried not to squirm but did anyway. Johnny slid into the booth across from her, assuming she was alone. Of course she wouldn’t have a date! She was in love with him, as he well knew. She sighed crossly and grabbed a menu for something to do. She would let him be the first to speak since he had joined her...without an invitation, she thought with a mental snarl.
The menu she held in front of her nose didn’t stop her from seeing Dara and her friends crowded around the jukebox. They were taking turns posing and tossing long looks over their shoulders at the cute new guy none of them knew. Dara caught Johnny’s eye and mouthed the word “Hi.” Then she tossed her hair as she turned back toward the jukebox display, leaning over more than she needed to. Johnny just shook his head and looked back at Maggie. Maggie just pushed her glasses higher on her nose.
Music with a steady, throbbing beat suddenly erupted from the jukebox and several kids cheered and jumped up, filling the dance floor. Dara and her friends took center stage and began a series of semi-choreographed moves apparently designed to attract male attention. Maggie turned away, wishing their food would hurry up and arrive. Johnny watched the action on the dance floor for several minutes, while Maggie stared out the window into the deepening shadows.
“Hey, Mags.” Shad stood at her side, shifting from foot to foot, his eyes darting to Johnny and then away again. “Scoot over baby.” And without waiting for her to respond, he crowded in next to her, jostling her until she shifted over enough for him to sit on the bench without sitting in her lap. His eyes never left Johnny’s face. His body was vibrating like a tuning fork, and his feet and fingers tapped non-stop against the table and the floor, making Maggie long to grab his hands and p
ress them flat and stomp her feet on his toes to quiet them, even for a second. Shad looked jealous, afraid, and uncomfortable all at once. He couldn’t take his eyes from Johnny. Apparently he remembered some things about the night of Johnny’s rescue, and Gus had filled him in on the rest. She and Shad had never discussed it. Maggie assumed Johnny was just more than Shad was willing to accept.
“So.....you’re the guy Maggie’s got the hots for.” Maggie rolled her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. Leave it to Shad to just come right out with it. From her dejected position, she couldn’t see Johnny’s response, but she felt his interest pique like a blow torch aimed right at her face. Her neck and cheeks flamed hot.
“Johnny Kinross - in the flesh,” Shad was warming up to the subject now, his lines right out of a poorly-written made-for-TV movie. “You are Johnny Kinross, right? I mean...I never saw you. But I think we had a pretty good relationship.” Maggie sputtered, a laugh erupting from her chest. Shad swiveled his head and gave her his “Shut-up-woman!” lips and his “domineering male” chin thrust. He was talking again before Maggie could give him her “you’ve-got-ten-seconds-to-vacate-the-premises-before-I-cut-you” glare in response.
“My Grandpa Gus says you can’t remember anything.” Shad was banking on that much, Maggie thought wryly. “I just wanted to say thank you and let you know that I got your back.” Shad extended his hand across the table, waiting for Johnny to grasp it. When Johnny did, Shad maneuvered his hand into a series of hand shakes that had Johnny fighting not to smile. Maggie felt a small amount of gratitude to Shad for that much. It didn’t last long.