Dancing Naked at the Edge of Dawn (44 page)

Everyone is anxious, ready, pensive about what will come next. They feel it coming but for minutes they can't move, and then Alice—of all people—starts them out. Alice who has a hole in her heart the size of Miami is the one to bring them up and out of their woman circle one at a time, reaching first for one hand and then the next, then pulling with such a fierceness it's a wonder her back doesn't go out. Even in this extraordinary moment she is still Alice—kind, gentle and firm all the way.

“We'll go,” she says. “I think we'll all go. Enough with all of this suffering and sacrifice and waiting for something to change. Just enough is what I say.”

Alice pauses to shift her thoughts back toward the direction they usually travel. It's a worn path of practical things like coats and warm soup and keeping your head covered in the wind, but even Alice feels a change in that wind. She shudders with pure excitement as she adds what she hopes will be the last perfect thing she ever utters. “It won't be cold even if we stay out at night because I've been watching the weather, and it's not supposed to get below fifty at night. Let's try and do the best we can for clothing with whatever Susan has around here.”

No one has exactly said what is going to happen next or what they are about to do, and that is the wild beauty of all the sudden movements, of the giggling, of the not-at-all-frightened looks the women exchange.

There is a quick raid of socks and only one shoe exchange because Susan is so small that no one but Susan can wear any of her shoes, although Sandy puts on a pair of John's hiking boots. She can't bring herself to leave them on for more than a few seconds because the thought of anything that is his makes her want to vomit. “We should throw these right out the window,” she says, flinging the boots down the basement steps. They bounce into the side of the dryer and leave a two-inch dent.

Alice makes everyone take a coat or a sweater. When they are ready, they huddle by the door waiting for the right moment to push it open and walk out into the night.

“What an unlikely marvelous mix of womanhood,” Susan shouts as she kicks open her own front door with her size-four feet, forgetting about the baby and John and her throbbing hand. She screams, “Let's walk!”

In the darkest part of the night, just after midnight, the women crush the dewy grass without hesitation, heading north down a highway that is as black as hell, but as inviting as anything they have ever seen.

Associated Press, April 26, 2002

—For immediate release.

Wilkins County, Wisconsin

WOMEN WALKERS SHAKE UP LOCALS

Police report that a group of eight women are walking through this remote county on a “pilgrimage” and refuse to talk to authorities or to relatives who have tried to stop them.

“It's the craziest thing I have ever seen,” said Sheriff Barnes Holden. “They are out there just walking and they won't talk to anyone.”

Holden said he received numerous calls from people who have passed the women in the middle of the night and wonder if there is something wrong.

“Apparently they are on some kind of pilgrimage, and they won't talk to anyone but each other until they are finished,” said Holden. “I tried to stop them but there's no law against walking down the side of the road if you want to.”

He said he met early this morning with a husband of one of the women, who said he thinks a study group the women have been attending may have gotten out of hand.

“The husband told me these women have been meeting for several years every Thursday night. He thinks they just got carried away and started walking and praying,” said Holden.

Jeanette Sponder, 68, who lives near Granton, where the women have been meeting, said county residents who have heard about the women walkers have been leaving food and water for them along the highway.

“Obviously this is something important to them,” said Sponder, who said she knows all of the women. “If they are smart, they'll keep walking and get the heck out of this county.”

Paul Ridby, of Granton, said his wife, Janice, is one of the walkers and he has no idea what is going on.

“I thought these meetings were just some excuse for the women to get together and eat and gossip,” he said. “I suppose they will just stop when they get tired, but I hope it's soon because I'm kind of lost here.”

The women are now heading south on Wittenberg Road and refuse to talk with anyone.

DANCING NAKED AT THE EDGE OF DAWN
A Bantam Book / January 2005

Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved
Copyright © 2004 by Kris Radish

Bantam Books is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Radish, Kris.
Dancing naked at the edge of dawn / Kris Radish.
p. cm.
eISBN: 0-553-90116-8
1. Self-actualization (Psychology)—Fiction. 2. Separation
(Psychology)—Fiction. 3. Married women—Fiction. 
4. Adultery—Fiction.
PS3618.A35 D36 2005
813'.6—dc22    2004055060

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