Soul Dancing with the Brass Band (The Brass Band Series) (5 page)

Kathryn discovered as a child that as she danced, body spinning and leaping as if not held by gravity, she could feel the sensation of expanding beyond her body. Now, grown to adulthood, she has perfected the technique. While dancing in trance, her life force expands far beyond the limits of her body and into the surrounding countryside to give her visions of what is happening miles away. The Druid warriors have found this to be a fascinating way of communication and an invaluable tool for defending our dwindling population. Between Terrance and Kathryn’s powers, the two of them can watch over the whole of Mona and warn of an invasion in time for an evacuation
.

June 15, 2010

Last spring Kenny found a baby crow that had fallen out of its nest. It had survived the fall, but was covered with maggots from the unfortunate death of its sibling. My brother, the bright kid that he is, took the little crow home to Mom, maggots and all. Kenny is still living off the points from that move, but when he told Mom he had named the bird Kate after her, she said it was a sweet gesture, but she wanted to name the bird Giuseppe - or
Gus
for short.

Soon Mom became Gus’s flight instructor, throwing him up in the air repeatedly until he learned to fly and even though he was free, Gus never strayed far from home. I often found myself looking out of the kitchen window at Mom and Gus sitting together in the garden. When Mom talked, Gus actually listened with his head cocked to one side. With a loud caw he would answer, making her laugh. When I expanded my view, I noticed our dog Bridget at Mom’s feet and the old scraggy barn cat purring in her lap, for the first time I saw a similarity between Mom and Saint Francis.

Mom loved so many things, gardening, sewing, every animal large and small, but her true passion was dancing. She once dreamed of becoming a professional dancer and from what I knew she would have made it. But what does a girl do when she’s headed for fame and fortune and finds herself head-over-heels in love with a farm boy? In my mom’s case, you have a family and teach the farm boy to dance.

Kenny and I made a point of watching Mom and Dad dance when the Elks Club had live music. They were simply beautiful to see. Dad was a fantastic dancer, but nothing compared to Mom. She could be as graceful as a ballerina or as energetic as a hummingbird, dancing double time in circles around him, because her joy couldn’t be contained.

During the summer, the days were either unbearably hot or full of violent thunderstorms. Today was another hot one and the sweat under my ball cap had begun its journey down my face to settle itself into a mud ring in the crease around my neck. I was getting so sunburned that my only option was to wear a long sleeve shirt.

For weeks I had been weeding Mom’s half-acre garden and daydreaming had become my main form of entertainment. Lately, my daydreams were a continuation of my nightly dreams, which was a wonderful escape!

As a Druid, I am absolutely adored by a blue-eyed boy and as I reach to kiss him, I smell the lavender he’s rubbed on his clothes to cover the smell of sweat
…

The ring of the lunch bell yanked me back to reality. I stretched as I stood and clapped my hands together to remove the dirt from my gloves. When my stomach growled, I looked at the sun to estimate the time of day and then laughed at how utterly unsophisticated I was.

As I neared the house, I heard the phone ring. We still had a landline due to cell service being so sketchy in the rural areas. “It’s Ruth,” I heard Mom yell, so I turned my walk into a run, reaching the phone in seconds flat.

“Hi, Ruth!” I said as the full weight of how much I’d missed her hit me like a tornado when I heard her voice.

“I’ve been thinking that you might be ready for a road trip to the big city,” Ruth said, bubbling with excitement. “The party of the summer is next weekend and, Hillary, you just have to be here. We’ll have so much fun!”

“Actually, I can use a road trip. Let me talk to Mom and Dad and see if I can get away.” In my mind I was already on my knees, begging Kenny to help me out with my chores for the next couple of days.

“The party isn’t until Saturday night, but it would be great if you could come early. We’ll need to do a few things to prepare,” Ruth said, with a sneaky edge to her voice.

I thought about asking a few questions, but decided it might be more fun to just let things unfold.

“Oh, more good news,” she added, “that house we wanted to rent in the fall became available, so I put down the deposit.”

Things were just getting better and better!

It was an easy drive to Kansas City and I had detailed directions that would take me straight to Ruth’s front door. As I got closer to her neighborhood, I noticed the homes were increasing in size with some of them actually becoming estates!

Oh Ruth, are you in trouble! You should have told me you had more money than the U.S Treasury
! I thought as I rolled up to a gate that said Witherspoon. Sure enough, this was the place. I pulled forward and backwards a few times to get the driver’s side window close enough to the keypad to press the call button. Ruth never let on that she came from money and I mean money with a capital M.

How was it that it never came up during one of our hundreds of late night talks? I always thought we were so alike. Yes, she said floral when I said stripes, which led me to believe we’d never argue over clothes. Our tastes were definitely at opposite ends of the spectrum. Ruth said “drama” when I said, “calm down”, but after all, Ruth was a drama major. I pressed the intercom, not knowing what to expect next.

“Hello,” a familiar voice said. “Can I help you?”

“Heck yes, you can help me! Do you have my best friend Ruth Witherspoon in there or am I at the wrong house?”

Ruth screamed. “I’ve been sitting on pins and needles waiting for you to show up. Just come up to the house and I’ll meet you out front!”

The gate slowly began to swing open and I pulled forward past an array of security cameras. I thought about looking at my odometer to see how far it was to the house, but decided instead to just enjoy the grounds, which were being perfectly manicured by a staff of gardeners.

When I reached the house, Ruth ran out of the front door, hands waving wildly in the air. What a relief to see she was still the crazy Ruth I knew from college. As I got out of the car, she almost knocked me over.

“No way could I have missed you any more than I have! It would just be impossible. We’ve got so much to cover,” Ruth babbled, only stopping to catch her breath.

“I’ve missed you too, girl. This looks like it may shape up to be a hell of a vacation. I feel like I’m staying at the Ritz," I said as I looked at the house and then sideways at Ruth.

She smiled at me with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s just home to me. Come on! I’ll show you your room and then we’re going to have our nails done. I already have the appointment set up ...my treat.”

It didn’t take me long to realize that primping was why Ruth wanted me in Kansas City a few days early. First it was French manicures and pedicures, then hair styling and tints, a facial and massage. By the day of the party, we had run out of things we could do to make ourselves more attractive, so we spent the day picking out what we would wear to the big party.

It was a good thing Ruth had a sister my size because nothing in my bag was dressy enough. With the plan being to look like a full-blown socialite, I picked a basic black gown with a high neckline and a plunging back. I felt more comfortable not seeing what part of my dress was missing.

Ruth put black eyeliner and mascara on me to show off my blue eyes and painted my lips red. “Oh my God, how am I going to keep from getting this all over myself?” I asked Ruth as she told me to blot. Ruth, of course, had a finish coat for my lips that claimed would make me “kissable” for hours.

Ruth always laughed at how naive I was because her motto was “bold is beautiful” and she was living up to that for the party. Her dress was a blood red number, slit up one side. The bling on her wide belt was almost blinding and couldn’t have been more fitting for her. Her hair was cut to just below her ears and tinted to deep brown, almost black. With makeup, jewelry and her four inch spiked heels, she looked beautiful.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone tonight, Ruth,” I warned her. “I don’t want to be left alone in a room full of strangers.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Hillary,” Ruth replied. “All of the guys will be flocking around you, so that’s where I’ll want to be.”

By the time we walked to the waiting limo in front of the house, I was feeling incredibly nervous. I asked Ruth no less than a million times about the party, but she just kept saying, “You’ll see. It will be fine.”

About 30 minutes later we pulled up in front of the Hotel Raphael. “Old world charm appeals to old money,” Ruth said as she turned to get out of the limo. The Raphael Hotel was 1920’s chic and added even more mystery to what the evening would hold.

We approached the hotel’s enormous entry doors. “Nice to see you this evening Miss Witherspoon,” the doorman said with a nod as he opened the door for us. Not a huge surprise to me that the doorman knew Ruth by name.

I paid close attention to balancing myself on my borrowed stiletto heels, frankly, being quite proud that I hadn’t embarrassed myself by turning an ankle. “How much longer before we find a place to sit down?” I whispered softly in Ruth’s ear so no one else could hear.

“Oh, stop your complaining, girl. We’re just about ready to make our grand entrance.” I could hear a smile in her voice. Ruth was really enjoying this. I followed her to a table just outside of a banquet room.

“Fill out that form,” Ruth said, pointing at a paper on the table.

“Why?” I whispered, feeling mortified and trying to stay next to Ruth as I watched the young wealthy of Kansas City stream by.

“We’re going to have a few calling cards printed for you. Corny, I know, but just go with the flow. Fill out the form and hand it to the guy behind the table. He’ll print them for you,” Ruth said as she moved away.

“What about you?” I said as I struggled to catch up.

“Mine are printed and right here in my handbag. I keep some on hand for these goofy parties. Here have a look.” She pulled one out and handed it to me.

The only thing printed on her card was “Miss Ruth Witherspoon” in a funky script on a textured paper with her cell number. I suppose nothing else was needed. Everyone in this elite group knew one another.

As I retrieved my cards at the far end of the table, Ruth put out her hand. “Let’s see what you’ve put together,” her curiosity peaked.

“Okay,” I said, handing her one.

She read, “Hillary, friend of Ruth Witherspoon.” I thought Ruth would never stop laughing.

As we walked into the ballroom, I gazed across a sea of half covered breasts and black tuxedos. These were the beneficiaries of the 2008 tax cuts, the richest 2%. The girls moved in first. Most of them knew Ruth and were thrilled to see her. After the hellos and questions about school and family, they reached their second reason for swooping over...to check out the new competition, and they all turned toward me.

I felt like a deer in headlights, but Ruth had been expecting this and was enjoying herself immensely. With a smile she introduced me. “This is Hillary, my best friend from college. She’s the one with all of the brains,” Ruth said it with just enough sarcasm to leave them wondering if I was a physicist or as dumb as a rock.