Slow Dance in Purgatory (29 page)

             
The room echoed soundlessly with the highly charged emotions of a thousand performances.  How many prayers had been offered here, pleas for courage and sparkling performances, heartfelt wishes for audience adoration and flawless deliveries?  Maggie thought for a moment that she could see ghostly apparitions flitting across the stage.  There was so much trapped energy and emotion in this room.  It felt almost like a place of worship, a synagogue or a cathedral, where the dreams of so many played out in living color, year after year. 

             
“Come with me,” Johnny whispered, as if unwilling to disturb the church-like silence of the waiting theatre.   He wrapped his arms around her and gathered energy around him like a rocket’s boosters preparing for launch.  But this time, the lift-off was a silent, weightless, rising.  There was no explosive vortex of light and motion.  This time, it was more like a suspension of gravity.   They floated slowly upwards, gliding above the rows of deep set chairs and carpeted aisles.  The ceiling was domed with a second row of balcony seats positioned on each side of a large sound box that boasted a spectacular view of the stage beyond.

             
Maggie watched as her feet rose farther and farther above solid ground.  She felt like Lois Lane in the arms of Superman.  She looked up in wonder as the ceiling loomed closer.  The darkness was an undisturbed frontier, enveloping them in silky solitude.  Suddenly, tiny white lights flickered on, puncturing the blackness with starlight.

             
“It’s like floating in space!”  Maggie sighed, pleasure washing over her.

             
“There aren’t many things I can show you or places I can take you, but I can show you how it feels to fly.”

             
“Being with you always feels like flying,” Maggie whispered. 

             
“And being with you brings me back to Earth.”

             
“Somehow, I think I’m getting the better end of the deal,” Maggie murmured, her face glowing dimly in the white light.

             
“If only that were true, I wouldn’t hate myself every time I give in to my need to be with you.”

             
Maggie placed a hand over his warm mouth.  “There will be no talk of regrets today.  There will be no remorse or second thoughts; today we belong to no one or nothing but each other.  Tomorrow will come soon enough and it will take care of itself.”

             
Silently they floated until Johnny, with no apparent effort, sent them soaring lightly through the curtained opening of the stage and into a high loft where a myriad of old costumes and props were stored.  Maggie felt solid ground under her feet, and the pull of gravity reengaged.  Life’s weight reasserted itself, and Maggie wasn’t ready to return just yet.   

             
“I don’t want to stop,”  Maggie sighed mournfully.  Johnny laughed silently, touching his forehead to hers and sliding his hands down to the small of her back.

             
“I’m sorry.  I couldn’t wait any longer,” he breathed.

             
Maggie was confused by his statement, wondering if he could only maintain weightlessness for so long.

             
“I couldn’t wait any longer,” Johnny repeated.  “I wanted to kiss you so bad, but I didn’t want to lose control and send us plummeting to the ground.”

             
Maggie’s heart fluttered out of her chest and flitted away on butterfly wings. Her eyes slipped closed as he tiptoed his fingers up her spine and lightly traced the long line from her shoulders to her hands.  He released her hands and circled her waist, his long hands spanning from her ribs to her hips.  Pulling her close, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and was overcome by the desire to dissolve into her.  Maggie stroked his hair, her wish to continue flying long forgotten.  Johnny raised his head, needing his mouth on hers, trailing his lips across her silky cheek.  She met him halfway and brushed her lips softly across his, tasting his warm honey flavor and savoring her name on his lips as he crushed his mouth to hers.  They were desperate to be closer, to lose themselves entirely, and never be apart again.

             
The afternoon passed languidly – as if time had ceased and an alternate world had opened up where they were the only inhabitants.  Maggie drug out a box of ancient costumes: top hats, coattails, and dresses with flowing skirts and puffy sleeves.  There was a long oval mirror propped in the corner, and Maggie had the inspiration to dress Johnny up and see what he looked like in the mirror.  Surely his costume wouldn’t disappear, too.  Sure enough, the slacks and suit jacket draped him as if a flesh and blood man wore them.  The top hat floated above a missing head, and his cane twirled from an empty sleeve.  Johnny didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before.  He could really scare the student body of Honeyville High now. 

             
“You look so dashing,” Maggie teased, amazed that his missing reflection no longer had the power to frighten her.  It was as if she had embraced all of him, accepting the truth of him, and feared it no more.

             
Johnny stuck a thick black mustache below his nose and curled his upper lip to prevent it from falling off.  The mustache waggled magically on the headless figure in the mirror, and they both burst out laughing.

             
Maggie found a Marilyn Monroe wig and pulled it on.  She struck a seductive pose and asked Johnny in a breathy voice if he preferred blondes. 

             
“I always thought I did – until I met a cute little bug with big blue eyes and long dark hair.  I’m a brunette man these days.”

             
“Really?  You preferred blondes?”  Maggie stood, hands on her hips, glowering at him.

             
“I liked girls, period, Maggie.” 

             
“I’m guessing they liked you, too,” Maggie moped, flopping dejectedly onto an old stool.

             
“I would be lying if I told you they didn’t.”  Johnny’s grin was rakish, and he waggled his brows lasciviously, making her chuckle in spite of her jealousy.

             
“What about you?  Have you ever…liked anyone before?”  Johnny asked, trying not to care.

             
“No,” Maggie said frankly.  “I never have.  Maybe it was just the lack of opportunity, or my survivalist mentality, but I never met anyone who turned my head…not until you.”  She pulled off the blonde wig  and ran her fingers through her mussed hair.

             
Johnny reached out and followed where her hands left off, pulling the slippery strands through his fingers.  He studied her for a moment, devotion and desire playing across his features.  He pulled her back to her feet in front of the mirror and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her.  They stared soberly at the image reflected back at them – a beautiful girl held in the invisible arms of her soul mate.  He moved around her then, stepping in front of the mirror, replacing the haunting image with something more tangible.

             
“Maggie.  I have never loved a girl…not until you,” he confessed softly.

             
Maggie swallowed the emotion that constricted her throat.  She had told Johnny many times that she loved him, but he had never said the words to her.  He’d fought it – resisted it, maybe for her sake more than his.  Now that he had given those words to her, she wouldn’t let him take them back.  She was keeping them and keeping him for as long as time would allow.

             
Before long, the alternate universe they inhabited was absorbed back into reality, and Maggie reluctantly tossed the costumes back into the box and tidied the dusty area.  Kissing her softly and lifting her in his arms, Johnny sent them floating back across the dark auditorium, setting her down where the journey had begun hours before.  They didn’t say goodbye when they parted.  They both knew they had abandoned goodbye.  Come what may, there would be no more goodbyes.   

***

             
Shad slammed the empty trash can down and kicked the door to the bathroom stall.  He banged his way through all his janitorial duties that afternoon, slamming this, pounding that, taking out his frustration on everything in his path.  After weeks of Maggie looking like she was dying a slow and painful death – circles under her eyes, sad smile, vacant expression -- she showed up after school looking like she had won the lottery.  Shad was no fool.  He knew what was up.  She had seen her imaginary friend again, and he had lit up her whole world.  How wonderful.

             
And to think he’d been worried about her all afternoon, worrying about the things that fathead Derek had said.  He had wondered if she would even show up for work at all.  He’d told Grandpa Gus a little about what had happened at lunch when Gus had shown up to bail him out of the Principal's office.  Shad had sworn up and down that he had not thrown a single item and there had been no one to say otherwise.  He had copped to chanting “food fight” and submitted to lunch detention for all of next week, and they let him go.

             
His grandpa had been cool about it, really.  He had just reminded Shad who would be doing all the heavy cleaning in the cafeteria.  He had been concerned for Maggie and was just as surprised as Shad when she showed up for work all glow-y and smiley.  How marvelous.  It made Shad want to hurl.  Apparently, Johnny “The Ghost” Kinross hadn’t gotten the message.  Shad had kept
his
end of the bargain.  Take care of her??  He’d been tryin’!  How could he take care of her if a certain somebody kept steppin’ in and messin’ things up?   

             
Now here he was, cleaning up a mess he hadn’t made.  That food fight had erupted at the perfect time, though, Shad had to admit.  It was almost enough to make Shad believe there really was a God.  Maggie seemed unaware of Shad’s frustration or even of his presence.  She hummed as she scrubbed the baseboards in the cafeteria, her big glasses sliding down on her nose, her cute rear end in the air.  Shad sighed.  Sometimes he felt like the parent.  What was he going to do with her? 

18

“WHO’S SORRY NOW?”

Connie Francis - 1958

             
“The next thing I knew, the table was shaking and lunch trays were falling, and milk cartons were exploding – I kid you not!  I literally got thrown right off the bench.  There has been some really strange stuff going on around this school.  Remember that day in the hallway?  The lockers just started swinging, man.  Crap was flying everywhere.  Trevor even got a bloody nose.  And we weren’t the only ones who saw it!  You can ask Jacob and Tasha and Jordan.  We were all there.  Then, just before Christmas break, Dara was locking up the dance room, and the lights flickered off and on, and the radio turned on
by itself
and started flipping through different channels.  She thought I was doing it.  She tried to get out of the room and the door wouldn’t open.  She was pissed, man!  But I swear I had nothing to do with it.” 

             
Derek was holding court again, something he always seemed to be doing.  A bunch of his friends were gathered around his gym locker in different states of undress, changing their clothes for P.E.  Shad was on the outside looking in, of course.  He had P.E. with a bunch of the members of the football team and a few members of the basketball team.  He had been thrilled about it at the beginning of the year, thinking he could make inroads with the guys, show them he was a gamer, and show them his skills.  He became less and less thrilled as the year went on.  He was always one of the last to be picked for teams, he and a few other freshmen were treated to almost weekly swirlies – being dunked head first in to a toilet while it’s being flushed, and getting thwacked with wet towels was a daily occurrence.

             
Shad tried to stay out of Derek’s line of sight and still listen in on the conversation.  He didn’t know what they were talking about, but Derek was definitely riled up.  Shad pulled his shirt over his head and caught his reflection in one of the locker room mirrors.  He sucked in his belly and flexed his arms as hard as he could.  Depressing.  When was he gonna grow?

             
“….Maggie chick has been there every single time or involved in some way.  Dara says the radio kept flipping over some Rod Stewart song with her name in it.  Something is definitely off with that girl.  I don’t care how fine she is.  Dara says the whole dance team thinks she’s really weird.”

             
Shad jerked his head up when he heard Maggie’s name.  In the process, he dropped his shirt on the wet floor and slammed his locker on his fingers.

             
“Ouch, man!  Sheeeeiiit!”  He pressed his hand to his mouth and grabbed up his shirt with his other.  Somehow Maggie had gotten drug into Derek’s story, and it didn’t sound good. He pulled his shirt over his head, wincing at the big wet spot that stuck to his back, and walked around the row of lockers to where Derek and his friends were just getting ready to head out to the gym.