Missing in Action (12 page)

“Okay, kids,” Sister Jenson said. “I want you to take your partner, the one in front of you, by the hand.” Her voice really did screech. It sounded like a dry wagon wheel. “I want everyone to spread out so you have a little room.” The next thing he knew, Elaine was pulling him, walking backward, her hand gripping tight on his. She seemed to think she was in charge.

He took another glance at her. “Do you know how to dance?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “Not much,” he said.

“I'll show you,” she said. “I've danced lots of times.”

He nodded. At least she hadn't told Brother Roundy she didn't want to dance with an Indian.

By then Sister Jenson was shouting instructions. The louder she yelled, the screechier her voice got. “We won't ask the band to play just yet. For now, we're going to practice the basic fox-trot step.” He was relieved to hear that, and relieved when he heard her counting off one-two-together, the same as Ken had done. He knew he could manage that. When he started doing the step, he heard Elaine whisper, “Very good, Jay. Very good.”

He hadn't thought that Elaine knew his name. He liked hearing her say it.

“All right. It's time for you boys to take hold of your partners.” A mumble of complaint went up from all the dancers, but he wasn't paying much attention to any of that. Without looking into Elaine's face, he placed his right hand on her waist, the way Sister Jenson was telling the boys to do. Elaine was wearing a light blue summer dress, and the material was so thin it was like he was touching her skin. Elaine took hold of his hand before Sister Jenson even told them to, and he took another quick look at her. She was still smiling. “Don't be so scared,” she said. “I'm not going to bite you.”

He felt the tips of his ears get hot.

“All right now, still without the music—one-two-together, one-two-together.”

The step was pretty much automatic for him now, but he knew his legs were stiff. All week Ken had been saying, “You're stiff as a scarecrow. Bend your knees a little. Move with the flow of the music.” But he had never managed that.

“Very good,” Elaine said again, “but you can get a
little
closer to me. It's hard to dance when you're reaching so far.” She put a little pressure on his shoulder, and he felt himself hold back, but then she tugged harder and there he was, his nose only about four inches from hers. But now it was more obvious that he was shorter than she was, and he realized how much he hated that.

Sister Jenson was running from one couple to another, correcting, demonstrating, pushing boys closer, and all the while, never losing count. “One-two-together.”

He was counting in his head, too, and he was keeping the step going, but Elaine said, “Let's turn a little. See, like this.” Turns seemed to work better with her than they had with Ken, maybe because he had kept so much farther away from Ken.

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Sister Jenson screeched. “This couple is doing
very
well. Elaine, you should be the one teaching, the way you've got your partner dancing.”

He felt himself tighten up at the thought that others might be looking at him.

But Sister Jenson called out, “All right. You're getting the idea. Let's start the music. Boys, listen for the beat. I'll count in the beginning to help you, but remember, it's a matter of hearing the rhythm of the music, not just counting off numbers in your head. And
lead
your partners. Boys are supposed to lead.”

He'd let go of Elaine and stepped back, but she leaned toward him and said, “I think I've been leading too much. You make the turns this time.”

“Okay,” he said without looking at her. He put his hand back on her waist, felt the warmth through the cloth.

And then she said, “I'm sure glad I got put with you, Jay. Most of these boys can't dance at all.”

He felt something strange in his head—like maybe his vision was starting to cloud up. He took a long look at Elaine—maybe two or three seconds—and she nodded to him, still smiling. It was all more than he could believe.

The band began to play a slow tune, “I'll Be Seeing You.” He didn't know all the words, only those first ones, but he liked that song, and he was holding her soft hand. She had moved even closer, as though their cheeks could touch by accident with the slightest wrong move, and he was turning on purpose—not a lot, not doing spins or anything, but not just holding straight all the time either. He thought maybe he was bending his knees a little too. He could smell something sweet and flowery coming from Elaine's hair, or maybe her neck.

Sister Jenson didn't let the band play very long—maybe a minute. Suddenly she stopped counting, and she must have waved or something to stop the music. “All right. Not too bad for the first time. But you boys, you dance like tin soldiers, all stiff. I want you to watch Elaine and . . . what's your partner's name?”

From somewhere in the room he heard Gordy yell, “It's Chief!”

But Elaine said, “Jay.”

“All right. I want you two to demonstrate. Boys, watch Jay. He's got this down already. He looks like he's been dancing for years.”

The band started to play again. He took hold of Elaine but stood for a moment, not sure when to start. He thought he missed the beat when he first stepped, but after a few seconds, he—or maybe Elaine—found the rhythm, and he continued his steps. He even started his turns, not feeling as smooth as before, but doing all right. And he kept getting better. “I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places,” Elaine was singing with the music. He wondered whether she was singing to him, or just singing, but everyone had moved back to watch, and he hardly knew it. He was just dancing.

Then the music stopped again. “Aren't they wonderful? What a beautiful couple they are. You give them a few years and they could be dancing in the movies.”

He wanted to leave now. He was almost sure that he would mess this up. He just wanted to escape, without having to say a single word to his friends. But the music started and he was dancing again. “Dancing in the movies,” Elaine said. She laughed. “Can you believe she said that? We're not
that
good.”

He tried to laugh. But he didn't want to talk when he was dancing. He hadn't stepped on her foot yet, and he was afraid he would if he didn't keep his concentration.

“Where did you move here from, Jay?” Elaine asked him.

“Salt Lake.”

“And you're Patriarch Reid's grandson, aren't you?”

“Yes.”

“You probably did some dancing up in Salt Lake.”

“No. This is my first time.”

“But someone showed you the steps, didn't they? You knew them already.”

He thought he'd lost the beat for a second, and he didn't answer, but after a moment he caught the rhythm again, and then he said, “My mom.”

“She's a pretty woman. And your dad's in the war, isn't he?”

He nodded. And then he took a bit of a chance. “We think he's a prisoner of war.”

“Really? That must be awful.”

“He'll be okay.”

He was watching her face more all the time now. She seemed ready to ask him another question when the music stopped. And then Sister Jenson asked everyone to change partners. For a while after that, maybe twenty minutes or so, she made them change again after every number, but he never did ask a girl; they all came to him. And every one of them told him he was the best dancer of all the boys.

And then Elaine came back. She took his hand and said, “I get you again, Jay. If I keep dancing with these other boys, every bone in my feet will be broken.” She laughed close to him, her breath on his ear. And then
they danced again, and he danced the best he had yet. “Dancing in the Dark” was the number, and she sang it, her voice small and pretty.

When the number ended, Brother Roundy started shouting again. “All right, kids. We're going to open this up for everyone now. But let's keep it going. You younger boys, don't make wallflowers out of these girls. Keep dancing, and keep choosing different partners so that everyone gets a chance.”

But Elaine was still holding his hand. He would have walked away, but she didn't let go, and the music started. Now the band was playing a fast tune, “It Don't Mean a Thing.” Jay turned toward her, and then words came out of his mouth that he would never have thought he could say: “I know how to jitterbug a little bit.”

“Hey, my sister's been teaching me.”

She grabbed both his hands, and they worked their way into the rhythm, left, right, rock back. He waited a while, but then he spun her under his arm. He didn't know too many of those kinds of turns, but he tried the ones he did know, and then he started over. By then the younger kids, who were still mostly at the front of the hall, had made a circle. They were clapping—or at least the girls were—and calling out, “Go after it!” and things like that.

At some point Jay had done everything he knew to do—five or six times—and he just wanted the music
to end, but it went on much longer, and then Elaine spun into him, her back to his chest, touching him. It was a turn he'd never tried before. Whoops went up from the boys this time, and then Elaine spun back away from him. He took a good look at her, her face flushed, her hair swinging, her dimples showing. He had had no idea that he could ever feel this good.

Still, he was glad when the music ended. He knew he had pushed things as far as he could. “Thanks,” he said to Elaine, and he turned and walked away, just to get out of the center of the circle.

Gordy hurried to him. “Hey, Chief, I can't believe it. How did you learn all that?”

Jay kept walking. He thought maybe he was heading for the doors, maybe even going home. He knew sweat was running down his face, and he at least wanted to get outside for a few minutes. But Gordy had hold of his arm and was spinning him around, and some of the other guys were gathering around him.

“Elaine's got it bad for you, Chief. She was smiling at you like you were Frank Sinatra. You got it made with her now—and all the other girls. I heard June Holbrook saying how
cute
you are.”

Jay couldn't do this. He started walking again. “It's hot in here,” he said.

But Gordy jumped around in front of him, stopped him. “How'd you learn to dance like that? Up in Salt Lake or—”

“He had a good teacher,” someone said, a guy with a big voice.

Jay turned and saw a guy he'd seen around town, one of the high school boys. He knew what was coming, was almost sure. He thought about running for the door.

“Any of you boys could dance like that if you had your own personal teacher. A Jap teacher, at that.”

Gordy spun around. “What are you talking about, Lester?”

“Tell 'em, kid. Tell 'em who you dance with out at your grandpa's farm.” Lester was built like a long fence post. He was old enough to shave, with a shadow over his cheeks, but lots of pimples mixed in.

“What's he talking about?” Gordy was asking.

“I was driving with my brother out to our farm, and we passed by Kimball Reid's place. I looked over by the barn and couldn't believe what I seen. A Jap boy and this here kid—”

“What Jap?”

“The one who works for the Patriarch, putting up hay and fixing fences and all that kind of stuff.”

“That's Ken,” Gordy said. “He's all right.”

“It ain't all right for two boys to dance together.”

Things had gotten quiet, and Jay knew that the sound of Lester's voice was reaching around the hall. Elaine would hear this too.

“They were dancing together?”

“Yeah. We seen 'em. I guess this Indian boy likes Japs. And I think he likes boys more than he likes girls. That Jap had hold of him tight, like the two of them was fallin' in love.”

“Sorry, Lester, but you got it wrong. That wasn't Chief. He wouldn't do something like that.” But Gordy was staring at him, not at Lester.

Jay said, only loud enough for Gordy to hear, “He was just showing me how to dance, that's all.”

“An Indian and a Jap, out dancing in the dirt,” said Lester. “I thought I'd seen everything this world had to offer. But that was one I didn't expect. If I'd had a rifle with me, I'd have plugged 'em both. Something like that just shouldn't be going on around here.”

Jay pushed past Gordy and walked to the door. He knew that every eye in the place was on him. When he reached the door, he broke into a run.

WHEN JAY REACHED HOME HE
stopped on the porch. He wiped his eyes and tried to get his breath under control. He didn't want anyone in the house asking questions. He pulled the screen door open and stepped into the front hallway. He heard a man's voice in the living room—a voice he didn't know. He thought maybe Grandpa was meeting with someone, so he walked fast to get past the entrance to the living room without saying anything.

But he heard his mom say, “Jay, is that you home already?”

He glanced into the living room and saw a man sitting on the couch across from his mother—a man he had seen at church. “Yeah, I didn't want to stay,” he said. He heard his mom laugh and say something, but he kept going. He didn't know why that man was talking to his mother, but he didn't want to meet him. He didn't
like the way his mom had been laughing, sounding so happy.

He was hot from running, from everything. When he reached his bedroom, he pulled off his shirt and pants and lay on his bed in his underwear. A bit of air was moving through the window; he tried to feel it, tried to think what he could do now. He could stay away from everyone for the rest of the summer, but when school started, he would have to look at those guys. He knew what everyone would be saying.