Footloose (11 page)

He took a deep breath. “But this … I'm thinking I could really do something. I could really do something for
me
this time. And maybe have a shot at making a change. That's all I want. Just a shot. Otherwise … I'm just going to disappear like everyone else.”

Lulu held a hand out to Ren. “May I have that petition, please?”

Ren smiled and passed the decorated flyer back to her with his pen. She held the paper down on her leg and gently added her name. “You've got my vote, Ren McCormack.”

Lulu handed the form back to Ren, kissed him on the forehead, and left him to gather his thoughts. It wasn't the solution to his creative-writing problem, but knowing he had at least some of his family's support meant something to him.

Actually, it meant a
lot.

Chapter 18

“Aren't you going to say anything?”

They were in Chuck's truck bed, just sitting. Ariel had her arms wrapped around her knees. She'd expected Chuck to yell at her. Fight for her. Do
something
. It was the silence that killed her. It proved what she already suspected—that he didn't even care.

“You're not telling me anything I don't know,” he said. “I've got eyes and ears.”

His blasé tone made it all worse. She never thought she was in love with him, but she did believe that she at least mattered. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself.”

“First you're into race car drivers. Now you're into dancin' gymnasts? You crack me up.” He leaned across the truck bed. “I've seen the way you been lookin' at him. Just waiting for the right moment to dumb down and throw yourself at him.”

Ariel pushed him away. If there was anyone she ever dumbed down for, it was Chuck. “I'm so sick of you treating me like dirt!”

She jumped out of the truck, but Chuck followed.
Now
he was angry. “Hey! Is that what I been doing? Treating you like just another pit row hussy? I thought that's what you came here to be. Being a preacher's daughter don't give you a pass on acting like a slut.”

Ariel slapped him to shut him up. She pounded on him with her fists. His words hit close to home. She had been that way, acting out. The difference was that Chuck played along—he used her the way she let him. Not like Ren …

Her blows were wild, crazed. He ducked and dodged until he managed to lift her at the waist and slam her into the ground with a force that made her shout with pain.

Chuck leaned over her. “I treated you decent. More than you deserved.”

Ariel stayed on the ground as Chuck got back into his truck and started the ignition, pulling out from under the bleachers. She couldn't let it end this way, letting Chuck think he'd made his point. That he won. Chuck had to circle the bleachers to reach the exit, so Ariel ran out the other side. She was waiting for him with a crowbar she'd grabbed from a pile of tools. She slammed it into the hood of the truck.

Dirt flew as Chuck skidded to a stop and jumped out, screaming at her. “Hey!
HEY
! Goddammit!”

Ariel couldn't stop herself. Each blow to the truck was payback for how she'd let him use her. For how she'd let him treat her. She took out a headlight.

Chuck punched her arm until she dropped the crowbar. Defenseless now, Chuck smacked her, with the full force of his body behind it. She fell down in the dirt, sobbing, holding her face.

“Walk your ass back home to Daddy.”

Dirt and gravel sprayed Ariel as Chuck peeled out, leaving her behind—alone.

•  •  •  •  •

She couldn't call her father. Not like this. It would be the end of everything. Maybe Rusty. If she could find her phone. Where the hell was her phone?

“What in God's name …”

Ariel cringed. She knew that voice. Someone else she didn't want to see.

“Ariel, girl, are you all right?”

Ariel winced as she sat up. “Leave me alone, Caroline. Just go.”

But the woman didn't move. “Look, I know we ain't friends, but I'm getting you out of here, so you just shut up and come with me, okay?”

Ariel thought she heard something she could trust in Caroline's voice, if not in her words. The woman had been around this track for a long time. Maybe she was used to this kind of thing. She carefully helped Ariel to her feet and got her into a car.

Caroline always treated Ariel badly, but she was the best thing to happen to her that afternoon. Ariel didn't want to say anything, and Caroline didn't want to hear anything. She drove in silence, taking the directions when she got back into town. Ariel knew her mother would be at the church that afternoon, so that's where she went.

She thanked Caroline and sent her away, knowing if they ever ran into each other again, they would never mention that this happened. If only she could be so lucky with her parents.

•  •  •  •  •

Ariel saw her daddy's secretary, Mrs. Allyson, first. The woman took her inside the church and sprung into action. The next thing Ariel knew, Momma was holding her. She barely had the chance to start her story before she heard tires screeching out front. Daddy's voice came from the hall. He was suddenly in front of her.

“That son of a bitch.”

It was the first time Ariel had ever heard her father curse. But she had no idea who he was talking about. He didn't know about Chuck, did he?

“Careful, Daddy,” Ariel said. “You're in church.” She couldn't imagine how she looked to him. She'd only caught a glimpse of her reflection in Caroline's car. It wasn't pretty. The black eye was already forming.

“Did Ren McCormack do this to you?”

Ren?
How on Earth could he think Ren would do something like this? “Answer me!” he yelled.

Ariel flinched. She couldn't even speak.

“Shaw! Calm down.” Her mom was just as angry, but she was trying to be reasonable. Ariel always appreciated that. No matter how bad the situation, her momma always kept a cool head. Bobby was like that, too.

“Our daughter's been assaulted, Vi,” her father insisted. “And he's going to pay for this.”

“An eye for an eye.” Ariel found her voice in her own anger. It was just like Daddy. Ready to shut someone down before he knew the situation. The truth didn't matter to him anymore. It was all about appearances.

“I warned you about him!”

Ariel looked up at him. The bruise must have been bad. He could barely meet her gaze. “For someone who's supposed to look into people's hearts and souls, you are blind as a bat.”

Daddy ignored her and turned to Vi. “I want that guy in handcuffs.”

“I can see how that works for you,” Ariel fumed. “Just blame it all on Ren. Just like you did with Bobby.”

Reverend Moore was shocked. “What? What are you talking about?”

In the silence that followed, Ariel let her parents see her cry for the first time in years. “Bobby spent his whole life trying to make you proud. He got good grades. Went to church on Sunday. But God help him, 'cause he made one mistake. Now nobody remembers good things about Bobby. Just that damn accident.”

Ariel saw that Momma heard what she was saying, but Daddy still needed convincing. “It's because of
Bobby
that there's no school dance. It's because of Bobby that we've got this curfew.” Ariel's voice rose with each accusation. “Bobby's to blame for all this.”

Daddy wasn't having it. “You will lower your voice and keep a civil tone.”

Momma did what she always did. She deflected. “Ariel, let's not do this here.”

“Why not?” Ariel asked. “Isn't this my church? Isn't this where we're supposed to talk about our problems?”

The dam finally burst. All the pain, the hurt—everything she'd locked inside, everything that had been building up, came flooding out of her. Confession was good for her soul. “I've been … lost. I've been losing my mind. But you don't see. You don't care.”

“Of course we care,” Daddy said. “And I don't expect for you to understand all that has been intended to protect you and shield you—”

Ariel cut him off. She wasn't in the mood for his condescending attitude. “Oh, stop it! I hate it when you talk down to me like some child.”

His raised his voice. “Whether you like it or not, young lady, you
are
my child.”

“I'm not even a virgin!”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She wanted something to shock him into listening to her. To make him hear.

Daddy was beside himself with rage. “Don't you talk like that in here!”

“What are you going to do? Pass another law?” she shouted back at him. “You just about outlawed everything. That sure as hell didn't keep 'em out of my panties.”

Reverend Moore slapped Ariel across the face. It was a shock beyond anything she'd ever experienced. It was just as shocking for her father.

“Shaw!” her mother yelled.

Ariel was defiant. “Well, let's go string up the guy who blacked my eye. Because we don't hit girls in Bomont. Right, Daddy?”

He was shaking. “Ariel. Please. I didn't mean to.” He moved toward her, but Ariel ran out of the room. She couldn't deal with it. It was all too much.

“No!” she heard her momma say to her father. “You stay here! I mean it!”

Momma called out for her, but Ariel couldn't stop. Not till she got outside, away from her daddy's church. Away from his judging eyes.

“Ariel, please,” Momma pleaded.

She finally stopped in the parking lot, trying to calm herself as her momma approached. She did everything wrong. Made everything worse.

“Momma, I can't go back,” she said. “Not now. I can't—”

“It's okay, baby,” Vi said, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “None of this is your fault. None of it.”

But Ariel wasn't so sure. She'd let it all spiral out of control. She'd let her life get so crazy. “It's not Ren's, either,” she said. “He didn't do this. He would never do this.”

“I know,” Vi said. “I'm a pretty good judge of character.”

Ariel cringed. Her momma knew nothing about her character.

“Don't you dare do that,” Vi said, as if reading Ariel's mind. “I know you, girl. I know you better than you know yourself. I may have missed some things, but that doesn't mean you're not my baby anymore. That you're not the same good girl I raised. I'm just sorry I haven't been there for you more. I promise that will change.”

“And Daddy?”

“He's a good man,” she said. “He just lost his way.”

Ariel wanted to make a joke. A snide remark. But she just let her mother hold her.

“Come on,” Vi said. “Let me take you to Rusty's. I think you need a friend right now. Maybe even more than you need your parents.”

“I'll always need you, Momma,” Ariel said.

Vi kissed her daughter's forehead. “Not half as much as I need you.”

•  •  •  •  •

Ariel's father was a broken man. As broken as the rusted old swing set in the backyard he'd been meaning to tear down for years. He'd been broken ever since that horrible night Officer Herb came knocking at his door. But it was no excuse for what he'd done to his daughter. He could barely look his wife in the eyes when she came up to him. “Where is she?”

“She's staying at Rusty's,” Vi replied.

The clouds were full and dark overhead. Rain was on the way. “I've never hit anyone in my life. I don't know what came over me.”

“That's where you two are alike,” she said. “You deal with your pain in extremes.”

Vi sat on the swing beside her husband. The metal squealed from years of neglect. “Right after Bobby died,” she said, “I was, of all things, shopping for headstones. They told me that the stone would take three weeks, but the engraving process would take ten months. I asked them, ‘Why so long? My son's already in the ground.' They told me it was the cemetery's policy to wait a year before any engraving is allowed.”

That explained something Shaw had always wondered. He'd never been able to bring himself to ask. Much as he prayed for Bobby silently on his own and out loud in church, he had a hard time visiting his son's grave. It was unfair, but he'd left all that business up to Vi when it happened. He was focused on other things.

“They do this because families, in their grief and suffering, tend to say too much,” Vi explained. “When what they really require is time to collect their thoughts. Time to heal. To mourn and remember.”

Shaw felt like he was still healing, that he'd be healing forever. It was harder now that Ariel opened up the old wounds—wounds that maybe needed reopening to heal properly.

“I know we were trying to protect our children,” Vi said. “But these laws. It was too much. Too soon.”

Shaw's thoughts went to the same place they always did: to the other children. The ones in the car with Bobby. The ones who weren't behind the wheel. “There were others who lost their lives. I felt an obligation—”

“Your obligation was to our daughter.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “And by turning to your congregation, somehow you turned away from her.” Vi got off the swing so she could face her husband directly. “It's been twenty-one years now I've been a minister's wife. I've been supportive. I've been silent. I still believe you're a wonderful preacher.” She paused. “But it's the one-on-one where you need a little work.”

Vi left her husband alone, staring at the broken swing set.

Chapter 19

The bruise on Ariel's face looked worse in the shadows of the railcar. She'd covered it up as best she could with makeup, but Ren still saw it under the surface. It was all he could do to contain his anger. “Your old man may be wrong about a lot, but tossing Chuck in prison sounds like a good idea to me.”

“I just want it all behind me,” she said. “I feel like an idiot.”

Ren had already told her to stop blaming herself. Yeah, she'd gone crazy out at the track; she should feel bad about that. But it didn't give Chuck the right to do what he did. Not by a long shot.

“I got something for you.” Ariel reached into her bag and retrieved a worn-out children's Bible.

Ren took the book in his hands. “A Bible?”

“It's not just any Bible. It's mine. Had it since I was seven.” She opened the inside flap, revealing her name written in childlike cursive. She thumbed through it, showing some underlined passages to Ren. “I've marked a few pages for you. Thought you might need some help going up against the city council.”

As he read the items she underlined, his enthusiasm grew. “Hey, this is great.” Each line was exactly what he needed. “This is … this is perfect!”

Ariel looked up at him, proud of herself for helping him however she could. “You said you'd kiss me someday.”

The Bible was suddenly forgotten. Ren smiled at her. “Yeah.”

For the first time since he'd met her, Ariel was suddenly shy. Unsure of herself. It made her even more adorable. “You think that someday could be today?” she asked.

Ren answered by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was slow and gentle—the kind that made them both feel less alone. Sweet and innocent, not hot with passion. There'd be time for that later. Not now, while they both had their hands on a Bible.

•  •  •  •  •

When he dropped her off, he walked her to the door like a gentleman. They shared one last quick kiss and she went inside. As he left her, he felt like he could take on the whole world. The city council and Chuck Cranston didn't stand a chance!

Ren's excitement kept him up most of the night as he prepared his speech for the council and reviewed the Bible passages Ariel had selected. He didn't know if it was all the ammunition he'd need, but it was a great starting point.

Time flew faster than it had since he arrived in Bomont. Suddenly, it was two days later, and his uncle was taking him to the council meeting. He blinked, and they were at the city council chamber.

Teenagers outnumbered the adults two to one as everybody entered the large room. Impressive, since many of the teens hadn't even known for sure where the chamber was until they asked Ren. It was also terrifying.

It was bad enough that he was going to have to get up in front of the entire council and the regular audience—but now the full scope of this undertaking was weighing on him. His classmates were here to support him because they wanted a dance as badly as he did, maybe even more so. They were all probably too young to fully appreciate what they'd lost three years ago.

It was Uncle Wes, Aunt Lulu, and the girls who made Ren the most nervous. He didn't want to let them down. Wes had made sure to remove the neon sign at his car lot the other day. He'd been ignoring Roger's request since the councilman mentioned it in front of Ren more than two months ago, but it came down right after Ren told his uncle what he was doing.

Ariel was in the aisle with her mother. The bruise on her face was still noticeable, but not as bad. Ren had to push thoughts of the attack from his mind as she approached. He had too much to worry about already.

“Are you nervous?” Ariel asked.

“I'm friggin' terrified,” he said under his breath. He didn't need anyone around him hearing that—the adults who were against him or the kids supporting him.

“Let me give you something to think about while you're up there.” She unbuttoned one of the snaps on her blouse. “It's just for you to see.” Another snap came undone. Ren checked around to make sure no one was looking. What was she doing? The rest of the snaps opened quickly as she flashed him the tank top she wore underneath. It read: “Dance Your Ass Off.”

“That's sweet,” Ren said as she quickly buttoned back up.

“I don't make T-shirts for just anybody. You're special.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Give 'em hell, Ren McCormack.”

Ariel joined her mother and Rusty, who had been saving seats. It was nearly standing room only in the chamber. Ren went to his own seat next to Wes. Amy had taken special pride in keeping it safe for him. Willard, Woody, and Etta were in the row behind him. For the moment, Ren was safe in the cocoon of family and friends.

Not everyone was on his side, though. Mr. Parker and Officer Herb were there, too. Both of them eyed Ren as if they expected him to break the law at any moment—to light up a joint, or who knows what else.

Willard tapped his shoulder. “What's your secret plan? You gonna get up and dance?”

Ren cracked a nervous smile. “Wish it were that easy.”

The gavel dropped as Principal Dunbar called the meeting to order.

The proceedings were endless, longer than even the last meeting Ren attended. The council went through each item on the agenda with excruciatingly slow deliberation, as if they hoped to bore the teens into leaving. To their credit, not one of Ren's supporters abandoned the room.

“Motion carried,” Principal Dunbar said with another bang of the gavel. “Trash day will be moved to Wednesday and be limited to two containers.”

There was a pause as the principal looked out over the crowd. “And now we can consider any new business,” Principal Dunbar said. “But before we begin, I want to remind all you kids that we are conducting an official meeting. Official town business. And that means no disturbances will be tolerated.” Amy and Sarah sat a little straighter beside Ren, as if they wanted it known that they took this very seriously.

“The floor is now open.”

Here we go
.

Ren stood, knowing that every single eye in the place was on him. He debated going to the microphone, but he wasn't sure he could make the long walk down the aisle on his wobbly legs.

“My name is Ren McCormack,” he announced in a clear but shaky voice. “And I want to move, on behalf of most of the senior class of Bomont High School, that the … the law against public dancing within the town limits of Bomont be abolished.”

The teens in the audience—and the two youngest children—erupted into cheers and applause. Roger was quick with his gavel. “We will have order here. You will not be warned again.”

Reverend Moore leaned forward. “Roger, if I may address Mr. McCormack concerning this matter?”

Roger nodded his okay, and Ren braced for the battle to begin. It was the first time they'd seen each other since Ariel was hurt. Ren wondered if her father ever got word that he wasn't the one who had hit her.

The reverend spoke in a calm voice. “Besides the liquor and the drugs and the lewd behavior that always seems to accompany these unsupervised events, the thing that distresses me more, Ren, is the spiritual corruption. These dances … this music distorts young people's attitudes. It may seem funny to you, but I believe that dancing can be destructive. I believe that a celebration of certain music can be destructive. People in Boston may have a different opinion, but this is Bomont.”

Not for the first time, Ren couldn't help but notice how people always seemed to put him down for being from that northern city.

“We are involved in our children's lives,” the reverend continued. “And we care. Ren, I'm afraid you're going to find that most of the people in our community are going to agree with me on this.”

This time, the polite outbreak of applause came from many—but not all—of the adults in the room. Oddly, no one gaveled them into silence.

A councilwoman spoke up. “I believe a vote is in order on the motion.”

Ren looked to his uncle and his friends. Was that it? That couldn't be it. “Excuse me,” he said.

Roger ignored him. “Will all those opposed please indicate your vote with aye or …”

Ren tried to speak over him. “I still have some things I'd like to say on the issue.”

“Hey, what's going on?” Wes asked as the teens in the audience added their voices to the confusion. “I thought Ren had the floor.”

Roger pounded his gavel, shouting them down. “This meeting will come to order. Mr. McCormack, we have been more than patient with your intrusions. I would like to remind you that we speak for the town because we are from here.”

A woman's hand went up to Ren's right. He realized it was Vi's hand. “Excuse me, Mr. Dunbar.”

But the principal could not be stopped. He continued sputtering about the outrageousness of Ren's request.

“Roger, cut it out,” Vi said sharply as she stood, shocking the principal and the rest of the council into silence. In a softer voice, Vi added, “I think Mr. McCormack has the right to be heard.”

The audience of supporters erupted again, letting the council know that there were people who grew up in Bomont who supported Ren. They'd chosen him to speak for them.

Ren stepped out of his row and moved to the podium with the microphone. He wanted to be sure that no one missed a word of this. He pulled the speech out of his pocket and unfolded it, smoothing the creases in the paper.

He'd lost a lot of sleep writing and rewriting the speech, making sure every word was perfect. But at that moment, being stared down by the council, he decided not to use it. He needed to look them in the eyes.

Ren folded the paper back up and made his case. “I wasn't here three years ago when tragedy hit this town. I know it's not my place to mourn the lives that were lost. I didn't know them. But that doesn't mean I don't think about them every day.” He looked at Ariel. She smiled, sending all the silent encouragement that she could.

“I'm like a lot of the students at Bomont High,” he continued. “I see that picture of them hanging on the wall at school every day. Each time I see their faces, I think about how precious life is. Because life can be taken away, so quickly. I know this firsthand, in my own way.” There was a catch in his throat. Thinking about his mom always did that to him.

“I know it may be silly to most of you,” Ren said, “this desire to have a dance where we could really, you know, go crazy. Just dance like idiots and let it all out. And maybe in the middle of all that dancing we might just touch each other.” Ren laughed. Not in a condescending way—it was innocent. Genuine. “But there's nothing shameful about it. It's not sick. It's not a
sin
. Dancing is our way of celebrating life.”

He pulled Ariel's Bible out from inside his jacket, holding it up so everyone could see. The pages she'd underlined were flagged with a rainbow of colorful sticky notes. Ren flipped to the first passage. “Aren't we told in Psalm 149, ‘Praise ye the Lord. Sing unto the Lord a new song. Let them praise his name in the dance.' ”

He paused to let those words sink in to the council and everyone else. Ren couldn't help but notice that Reverend Moore shared a look with his wife. “If any of you brought your Bible, like I did,” Ren said, “please turn to the Book of Samuel, 6:14.” He flipped to the next sticky note and read, “ ‘David danced before the Lord with all his might. Leaping and dancing before the Lord.' ” He turned to Reverend Moore. “Celebrating his love for God, celebrating his love for life—with
dancing
. I mean, if God said it, and we believe it, doesn't that settle it?”

Ren turned to the audience behind him, hoping to bring them along with him. “Ecclesiastes assures us that ‘There is a time to every purpose under Heaven. A time to weep. A time to mourn. And there is a time to dance.' This is our time.” He let his message sink in for a moment, before turning back to the council. “Thank you.”

He closed Ariel's Bible and walked back to his seat while everyone considered his words in silence.