Slow Dance in Purgatory (23 page)

             
“Dara!  Knock it off!  I don’t know what you’re talking about!  You said to meet you here after school.  I just walked up and opened the door.  Quit freaking out!!  I didn’t do anything!!!”  Derek was out of breath and panting and more than a little pissed off.

             
“You didn’t hold the door so I couldn’t get out?  You didn’t flicker the lights and then make the sound system play some freaky message about ….about ….Baggie Maggie?”  Dara was breathing just as hard, and she hadn’t cooled down very much at all.  She was convinced Derek had to be guilty.

             
“Baggie Maggie?”  Derek’s eye brows rose in disagreement.  “From what I’ve seen, she’s anything but baggie.”

             
Dara arched and screeched in outrage, trying to pull her arms from his.

             
“Geez, Dara!  Chill out!  I swear I didn’t.  I swear it!”

             
Dara rolled her eyes and offered a sarcastic, “Whatever.”

             
Derek sat back on his heels, letting Dara roll out from beneath him.  She rose in an angry huff and gathered her stuff where it had scattered when the music blasted her off her feet.

             
“There’s some really weird shit happening at this school,” Derek muttered, rising to his feet behind her.   He clicked off the sound system, and with a nervous glance around the room, flipped off the lights and followed his irate girlfriend from the dance room. 

15

“UNCHAINED MELODY”

Les Baxter - 1955

             
Jody was true to her word, and Maggie’s make-up was perfect.  After the game, she hurried to the locker room and readied herself for the dance.  She removed the dark lipstick all the dancers wore when performing, and applied a pale pink instead.  The smoky eye makeup worked without making her look like she belonged in a nightclub, and Maggie loosened her hair from the mandatory tight bun and brushed it until it swung, straight and shiny, down her back.  She removed her dance costume and jazz shoes and carefully pulled Irene’s blue dress over her head and shimmied the zipper closed.  The shoes were high, but they had a sturdy strap, and Maggie thought she could walk in them without stumbling and without looking like she was playing dress-up.  She might even be able to dance in them.  In the corner.  All by herself. 

             
Maggie sighed and pushed the self-pity away.  She was going to enjoy feeling pretty and wearing Irene’s beautiful dress.  All other thoughts were banned for the rest of the night.  The sparkly earrings were just the right finishing touch, and after Maggie brushed her teeth and spritzed herself with a hint of perfume, she stepped back to twirl in front of the long mirror.  She almost didn’t recognize herself.  Would Johnny be there tonight, somewhere in the shadows?  She knew she was setting herself up for disappointment, but she desperately hoped so.

             
Maggie was in her place behind the ticket table as couple after couple filed into the school cafeteria.  All the tables and chairs had been cleared or moved to the perimeter, and the large space was adorned in silver balloons and paper mache roses in deep red and black.  White snowflakes twinkled at varying lengths from the ceiling, giving the space a ‘Winter Wonderland’ vibe.  Maggie had to admit, Dara and the other members of the dance team had done a great job with the decorations.  Still, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take Gus, Shad, and her to clean it all up Monday morning.

             
Dara hadn’t been able to hide her surprise when she’d seen Maggie, standing to the left of the table, taking tickets and chatting with a few of the dance team members and their dates as they arrived.  Maggie tried not to smile, but Dara‘s expression was priceless.  Didn’t someone once say “looking good is the best revenge?”  They were absolutely right. 

             
But though revenge is sweet, it turns bitter with time.  More than an hour later, long after every one had arrived, Maggie still stood alone behind the ticket counter, watching the couples swing around the floor, laughing and holding each other tightly.  Maggie desperately wished she could dance, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen.  Everyone already had a partner.  The pleasure she had felt in her appearance had faded, and her fancy dress and high heeled shoes now seemed a silly mockery.  The depression she had felt earlier descended on her once more, and Maggie abandoned her now irrelevant post.  The money and tickets were locked away, and there was no one to stop her from leaving.  Maggie walked down the long corridor back toward the girls’ locker room to gather her things.

             
“You should be dancing.”  Johnny’s voice spoke out from a shadowy somewhere, and Maggie cursed her tell-tale heart for singing in her chest.

             
He was suddenly beside her, his long stride slowing to match her own.  Maggie struggled with dueling urges to slap him and fling her arms around him.  She settled instead on silence.  Her heels clattered on the hard linoleum floor; his boots made no sound whatsoever.  She wondered if she should pretend she couldn’t see him.  If she should just walk along like he wasn’t there, but she knew she could never pull it off.  Her hair literally stood on end with awareness.  Still, she was angry that he played that very game, staying away for days on end, and she was helpless to fight back. 

             
“Maggie?”  His voice coaxed her, nibbling at her anger, and with a sigh, Maggie let it slip away – for now.  She was just too glad to see him.

             
“I’m not dancing because I would look very silly dancing by myself.”  Maggie turned to look at him, and Johnny stared down into her up-turned face.

             
“You’re beautiful,” he confessed, and Maggie felt the sincerity of his words travel down her flushed cheeks, flood her neck and breasts, and pool like hot cider in her belly.  Maggie reminded herself to breathe.

             
“Would you like to dance?”  Johnny extended a hand, and Maggie stepped back reluctantly.

             
“Here?” she protested softly, her eyes traveling down the hallway toward the music spilling from the cafeteria that wasn’t nearly far enough away.  Anyone could walk around the corner and see her waltzing with her invisible partner.  She would never hear the end of it.  She would be labeled “psycho” at the very worst, pathetic at the least.  Neither term appealed to her much.
             

             
Johnny didn’t answer for a moment, and then he reached for her, pulling her into the circle of his arms.  “Put your arms around me.”

             
Maggie hesitated again, but he smelled like sunshine and leather, and she couldn’t help herself.  Surrender was far too easy.  She set her hands on his shoulders and stepped into him, eyes glued to her shoes.

             
“Hold on tight.  I’ve never done this before.”

             
Maggie’s head jerked up in confusion, and she let out a startled squeak as Johnny’s arms locked around her like steel bands.  Without warning, she was swept up, like being caught in the vortex of a tornado, where the world spins around you and you are absolutely helpless in its power.  Maggie’s hair whipped around her face, and she buried her head in Johnny’s chest, her arms clinging to him desperately.

             
Hallways and doorways, ceilings and floors, melded into flashing colors and shades of grey, without form or delineation.  Within seconds, the tornado that had swept them up touched down without sound or fury, setting them weightlessly outside the dance room door.  Maggie opened her eyes slowly and swayed on trembling legs.  Johnny’s arms remained locked around her, but he lifted one warm hand to smooth her wind-blown hair.  Like before, it fell heavy and straight over her shoulders, perfectly restored to its proper place.

             
“That was…interesting.”  There was laughter in Johnny’s voice, and his face was slightly euphoric. 

             
“What
was
that?”  Maggie stuttered, closing her spinning eyes once more, trying to regain her equilibrium. 

             
“That was me, taking you for a little ride.  It was a little slower than I usually travel – but then I usually travel alone.” 

             
He was laughing.  Maggie shook her head in amazement.  She still stood clutched in his arms, and his silent laughter reverberated through her like an electric charge.

             
Johnny stepped back and opened the dance room door.  Bowing slightly, Johnny smirked and drawked, “After you, Miss Margaret.”

             
Maggie curtsied sassily and tossed her hair.  Two could play this game. Turning on her heel, she sashayed into the room.  Johnny groaned right out loud.

             
“Oh, baby,” she heard him mutter under his breath. 

             
Right on cue, music blasted from the speakers, and Johnny’s arm snaked out and caught Maggie around her waist, his hand capturing hers as he spun her right into the Jitterbug.  “Rockin’ Robin” shook the room, and Maggie shrieked and laughed, falling immediately into step with him.  The boy knew what he was doing, and she was adept enough to follow his lead. 

             
In and out, over and under, he swung her.  Their bodies moved in concert, their feet flew, and Maggie’s skirt swooshed and floated around her in time to the beat.  One song rolled into another, and then another, and Johnny didn’t miss a step.  Maggie threw herself into the music, trusting her partner, mimicking his swagger and swings, letting him instruct her in a style of dance she knew very little about.  She didn’t know how long they danced that way, frenzied, laughing, and never tiring as song after song wailed the forgotten soundtrack of an interrupted life.   
             

             
Then the music slowed, and Johnny pulled her firmly up against him. Maggie’s laughter faded as she looped her arms around his neck, lifting her face to let the whirring fans in the corners of the room blow softly across her flushed cheeks.  She knew this song and sang softly along with the Penguins….
Earth Angel, Earth Angel
…

             
Johnny sang too, and his voice tickled her ear “
I’m just a fool…”
Maggie’s heart missed a beat, and she leaned into him, resting her forehead on his chest.

             
“Maggie?”  Johnny nuzzled her ear, and Maggie lifted her face from his chest.  Her high heels put her eyes on a level with his lips.  She watched them, and they whispered her name again, willing her to lift her chin and allow him access.  The suspense was achingly sweet, and Maggie shifted ever so slightly, wanting to prolong the moment.  As she did, she caught her movement reflected back at her in the mirrors that lined the dance room walls along one side.  She had been so caught up in the dancing and so caught up in trying to follow Johnny’s lead, that she had failed to notice their reflection.  Her reflection.  Maggie stood in the center of the floor, facing the mirrors, arms raised and circling…absolutely nothing. 

             
Johnny had no reflection.  Her eyes swung down to the broad shoulders and firm chest supporting her arms, and then slid back to the overwhelming contradiction in the dance room mirrors.   She held Johnny in her arms…yet held nothing at all.  Her breath froze in her throat.  Her lungs screamed for air, yet she couldn’t seem to remember how to inhale.  Panicked, she pushed her way out of his embrace, stumbling back as the mirrors around her mocked her desperate untangling.

             
Maggie’s vision teetered, blurring at the edges, and the room spun wildly around her. The music faded like it had suddenly been sucked through a long dark tunnel, and Maggie realized that for the first time in her life she was going to faint.  Maggie’s stomach lurched wildly as she felt herself be swept up off her feet and cradled like a child.  Fighting to stay conscious, Maggie gasped for air and called out.

             
“Johnny?”

             
“What’s wrong, Maggie?!  What the hell is happening!?” Johnny’s voice was urgent and confused.

             
“Take me out of this room, Johnny, please.”

Faster than it took her to form her next thought, in a blur of speed and light, Maggie found herself outside the dance room, still held in Johnny’s arms, the door swinging harmlessly back to a closed position. 

             
“Where, Maggie?”

             
“Just …..be still for a minute.”  Maggie’s head was swimming, and she didn’t think she could stand.

             
Johnny exhaled, his warm breath lifting Maggie’s hair where it clung to her feverish cheeks.  Leaning back against the lockers, he slid slowly down the smooth metal surface, with Maggie still cradled in his arms, until he met the floor.  He sat for several long minutes, Maggie silent and still against him.  His warm hand made slow circles on her back, and Maggie concentrated on breathing deeply, in and out.