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Authors: Tina Sears

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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 were
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.

About a hundred people were gathered at the
pavilion already, mostly on the lawn where the food beckoned hungry bellies.

We stood in a short line for a chili dog and baked beans. Then we
got our lemonade, which was too sweet, but we drank it anyway.

We wandered over to the edge of the pavilion where the pine trees
were and found some privacy and some shade away from the growing crowd. We sat
down in a circle, sitting crossed legged with our plates in our lap as we ate.
Reds sat next to me.

“How do you like the Cincinnati chili, Chris?” Reds asked.

“It’s really good,” I said, wiping chili from my mouth with my
napkin.

After we ate, Julie stood up and wiped the back of her shorts off.
“Looks like the re-enactors are getting ready to put on their show. Let’s go
over and see what’s happening.”

The re-enactors were forming on the front lawn. The British
soldiers were on the left and the American soldiers were on the right. Each
group had a cannon facing its enemy. Their rifles were straight up and down
against their shoulders as in waiting. All was quiet in anticipation. Then the
command was given by Colonel Saunders.

“Fire!”

In a flash, the soldiers were storming one another, their rifles
pointed at the hearts of their enemies. Men from both sides were in hand to
hand combat for about fifteen minutes.

Next, a cannon went off, and smoke covered the right half of the
battlefield. Another bang, and more smoke followed. It looked as real as if it
had been 1776 and we were standing right in the middle of the action, fighting
for our freedom. Soldiers fell to their re-enacted deaths one by one until a
small band of American soldiers declared victory over the British. Everyone
clapped and cheered until all of the
dead
soldiers were up and walking
off the battlefield.

The smoke cleared, and I saw an elderly woman standing beside a
man in a wheelchair. The man had on a dark green uniform with a matching tie.
He was missing both legs from the knee down. Across his chest were two lines of
medals, but the one I noticed most was the purple one hanging from a ribbon and
the medal was heart shaped. I guess purple didn’t make everything seem more
exciting, didn’t always mean that your life might someday become a Broadway
musical.

I felt bad for the man in the wheelchair. I still had my legs, yet
I felt like I couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape.

The man saluted the flag with bravery only a soldier could do. His
eyes were sad and watery. I thought about what horrors he must had to face in
the war, and yet he still saluted the flag. Then it hit me. Freedom had been declared
and it took a whole country to fight for it. We were celebrating two hundred
years of it. Like everyone who fought for their freedom before me, I would join
them.

“Reds?”

He turned to me. “Yeah?”

“Do you know why I wanted to pull that prank on my uncle?”

“It’s because he put you on restriction, right?”

I had to navigate cautiously. “Yeah, that’s some of it, but
there’s more to it than that.”

“What?”

I paused, trying to gather my bravery.

He nudged me. “You can tell me. I’ll protect you.”

I thought of the fight at the beginning of
summer and how he tried to break it up. I believed him. “Well, it’s because
he’s mean too. Especially when he’s drinking. Which is every night.”

“Freckles’ Dad is an alcoholic, and he’s pretty mean too.”

He was getting off the subject. I tried again.

“Yeah, well, he’s not just mean. He’s a bad man.”

“What do you mean? Has he hit you?”

Just then, the elderly gentleman in the white suit took the
microphone and blew into it, making a loud hiss.

Reds looked over at the man, then back at me, waiting for an
answer. But I couldn’t talk over the microphone.

“Next, we will have the three-legged race. Everyone interested
needs to come to the steps of the pavilion to get your leg ties. You will then
stand at the starting line over there and tie your legs together.” He pointed
to the side of the pavilion where there were a couple of women waving.

Reds tucked his hand into mine. It was warm and gentle. “Okay.
Now. You were saying he hit you? I swear I’ll hurt him if he’s touched you.”

This is not what I wanted to happen. I didn’t want Reds to go off
starting a fight with my uncle. Violence wasn’t the answer. Getting home safe
was the answer.

“No, wait. I didn’t say he hit me. He’s just
mean is all. Just forget about it.” I wanted to drop it, so I thought of a
quick exit strategy. “Do you want to be partners in the three-legged race?”

“Yeah, sure.”

We went to the front of the pavilion where the crowd was
gathering. He was still holding my hand and I knew he was still thinking about
what I had just told him. I squeezed his hand to reassure him that I was okay.

After we got our leg ties, we walked over to the starting line and
met up with Paige, who was tying her right leg to Callie’s left leg. She
giggled when she saw us. Reds tied his leg to mine and we stood next to Julie
and Tommy. Owl and Wendy were next to them and we all struggled to stay upright
with our arms around each other. There were sixteen couples, both young and
old. Aunt Lori and Alice were on the sidelines cheering us on. A man at the
beginning of the line held up a starter gun.

Reds and I leaned forward, waiting. A second later the gun went
off. We hobbled down the grassy lane, trying not to fall into one another,
walking as fast as we could for the finish line. We had our arms around each
other’s waist, walking first with our free leg, then moving as one unit with
the legs that were tied together. We developed a kind of hop and a skip but we
finally found our rhythm. We were tied for first place with Julie and Tommy.

I ran faster, taking Reds with me. Just as we were about to cross
the finish line, Julie bumped into my shoulder. She was pushing me, trying to
knock me off balance. I pushed back but it wasn’t enough to get her away from
me. We were tied with just a few more hops before we finished. Julie’s foot
jutted out in front of me, causing me to lose my balance. We stumbled and by
the time we found our rhythm again, Julie and Tommy crossed the finish line
before us.

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