The Dance

by Suzie Carr

  “Yes, withdrew.”

  “You make it sound like a bank transaction where she walked up to the teller window and demanded her cups, plates and furniture, leaving a zero balance before she skipped town and deposited herself in someone else’s life.”

  “You have quite a way with words, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Jacky said, straight-faced.

  Brooke laughed from somewhere deep inside.

  “Seriously, so did she hurt you?”

  “She had the opposite effect on me when she left. She freed me. The weight of the world crumbled off my shoulders and I could finally move with a suppleness I didn’t know existed. I breathed without struggle. I woke up with hope in my heart. I kind of like that feeling right now.”

  Jacky studied her. “So why date?”

  “Wine and dine.”

  “Yes, wine and dine.” Jacky released her foot. “I relinquish control.”

  Brooke bowed her head. “Why thank you ma lady.”

  They broke out into a series of hiccupped giggles.

  In a matter of moments, the solemnness dissipated from the room, allowing the warmth of their budding friendship to ease in and take over.

  ~ ~

  Sophie sat on her bed, hearing giggles from Jacky and Brooke in the living room downstairs.

  It had been a long time since she heard Jacky giggle.

  Sophie picked up a picture of her mother on her bedside table. She had only then, in that moment – an entire ten hours after waking – thought of her mom. Guilt stabbed at her.

  For the first time since her death, Sophie did what she said she’d never do, she traveled through the whole day without once pausing to consider her mother.

  She clutched the memory bead around her neck. “I’m sorry Mom. I didn’t mean it.” She buried her head in her hands, willing a good cry.

  No tears came.

  Sophie searched her mind for a clear picture of her mother, but no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, she couldn’t see her mother’s face. She couldn’t remember what her mother looked like. She opened her eyes and stared at the picture of her swinging a bat at Cold State Park. She searched the laughter on her face for signs of her mother, the mother she remembered as her confidant, her lucky charm, and her co-joker when it came to messing with Jacky’s Type A personality. Together they could be a menace, always trailing one step behind Jacky to tinker with a pillow she had just fluffed or to toss one of Rosy’s toys on the floor after she just tidied up the living room.

  Sophie couldn’t picture her face anymore. She couldn’t smell her fruity shampoo. She couldn’t hear the high-pitched laugh she’d create when she or Jacky tickled her belly. She couldn’t remember what her latest hairstyle looked like. Was it wavy or straight? Was it highlighted or lowlighted with a chestnut hue?

  Oh my God! You’re gone.

  She imagined her mother standing in a bed of clouds, waiting to hear from her, and then falling to her knees and choking on the fog when she never checked in that day.

  Sophie rolled over on her side. How could she forget her mother for the entire day?

  She lay on her bed, massaging the memory bead – all she had left of her mother in the physical state. She stretched and picked up the picture of her mother and Jacky sharing a pile of crabs on Fourth of July. She traced her finger down her mother’s cheek. “I should’ve checked in today.”

  Sophie continued to massage the memory bead around her neck. “I wish you were still here. I wish we could snuggle up under our favorite blanket on the couch, the velvet one with white swirls, not that green one you tried to get me to like so much, and watch that Cosmos show. The other day, they talked about universes the size of pinheads on every surface of the Earth. With so many universes, you’ve got to be in one of them. Maybe this bead is a universe and you’re living there.”

  She undid the necklace and stared at the wisps of white mixed with the sea green glass bead, a touch the artist had derived from her mother’s Irish green eyes. Her mother would’ve admired the handiwork. Ironically, with her wispiness incased in glass, she looked freer than when alive. Her mother always searched for something greater in life. She looked shackled when she’d stare at the television or sit down to a family dinner. She needed plans. She always needed something bigger and better.

  In the bead, she danced along the imaginary breezes of a multi-dimensional world. She could shift from one happy movement to another. She could twirl and thrive in her beautiful shiny new world.

  Sophie spun the bead. In that world her mother could take many trips and never tire of the same sights twice. The skies would be brighter blue than here on Earth. The clouds would be fluffier, too, and turn every color of the rainbow.

  Inside the protective sphere, angels watched over her as she dared to wander and discover its hidden treasures, the beautiful prisms of its inner core; the tiniest of creatures who, too, traveled around in search of awe and enlightenment; the lightness of the air that when breathed in eradicated all disease instantly; and the softness of the gel-like substance that cradled each and every step and height soared.

  In that world, her mother reemerged to dance with those who came before her. New friendships, the kind that never faltered, grew and swept her over in a sugary haze of giddiness where she could indulge in treats that swelled beyond the indulgences of Earth. She’d never want for anything because in that world she could have anything she craved. She’d fly around in a halo of pure happiness. The only tears shed were ones produced by the selfless actions of others, filling her being with the ultimate sense of pride and satisfaction. She’d never be lonely in such a magical place.

  Sophie returned the picture to her nightstand, reassured, for at least the moment, that maybe, just maybe her mother found joy and just went on a small trip in her new world, soon to return to her heart.

  She heard Jacky and Brooke laughing over something again. She missed Jacky’s laugh. She used to laugh all the time, and back then, Sophie believed those laughs to be true.

  She exhaled and looked up to the ceiling, feeling the pressure of the guilt return. They had both gotten on with their lives that day without her mother. They had laughed, had their breaths taken away, scored new friendships, and even survived despite the fact her mother was still dead and not coming back to share in days like that.

  First hanging with honeybees, next getting married and having kids without her there to meet them. Her mother would never get to hear the fascinating things she learned about how bees communicate through dance or how they spend the day foraging and travel back to the hive by nighttime to rest in anticipation of working another day. Her mother would never know the delicious treat of eating honey right off the comb, or how pollen tasted fresh out of the dehydrator.

  Did moving on mean she’d forget her mother?

  She still couldn’t remember the fine details of her mother’s face.

  She couldn’t feel her presence.

  A lonely chill filled the room, like someone drilled a hole in the side of the house and let out all the air.

  She was alone.

  She lay staring at the ceiling, summoning her mother to return to her room and wrap her in the gentleness that always marked the end of each day.

  She focused on her breathing, imagining with each inhale, her mother’s spirit coming closer, diluting the loneliness that Jacky’s laughter created.

  When that didn’t work, she opened the drawer, the one where she hid her Taylor Swift CD and letter, and closed it a moment later when Jacky laughed again.

  She missed her conversations with Jacky as much as with her mother. She wished she could return to the girl before everything happened, the girl who believed Jacky loved her as a daughter. How she wished she could be that innocent girl again, clueless to the cruel reality that no one could be fully trusted. She lived on her own in a big, scary, solitary world.

  Sophie kissed her memory bead and hung it back around her neck, praying the temporary comfor
t of having a part of her mother so close to her heart would last her through the night.

  Chapter Ten

  Jacky and her mechanic had come to get her car by nine in the morning. The mechanic was a young guy, Brooke guessed early twenties, dressed in overalls and covered in grime. He froze at the sight of Bee’s foaming mouth in the front window.

  “She’s alright,” Brooke reassured. “Her trainer is here.”

  “That’s not my doing.” Jacky shook her head. “She’s not supposed to be in that window,” she said to the mechanic.

  Brooke couldn’t bring herself to block Bee from the window. As long as no one appeared in her viewpoint, which typically no one did because of how far the carriage house sat back from the road, Bee acted calm and collected. She sat there all day long and perked her ears as she watched nature unfold before her. That perch allowed her to witness bunnies playing, squirrels working to gather food, and birds flying high. It offered her access to a rich life. Blocking her from it would shut her out from the joy of everything beautiful and natural in the world.

  “There has to be a better way.” Brooke folded her arms.

  Jacky arched her eyebrow at Brooke, then handed the frightened mechanic the keys. “Just ignore the barks,” she said to him. “She’s fine.”

  While they both dipped their heads under the hood and tinkered, Brooke stood in front of the window and pointed a warning every time Bee barked. Of course, she continued to yap.

  Even if she wanted to remove Bee from the front window, she’d be unable. When Bee turned into a beast, she quadrupled in strength. Brooke would need the muscle power of ten men to pull her away from her fixation.

  For twenty long minutes, she fidgeted under the strain of her dog parenting nightmare, then finally, the engine turned over.

  Jacky closed in on her as the mechanic picked up his scattered wrenches and tools. “You’ve been a very bad student.”

  Brooke fluttered her eyelashes. “I have. With good cause.”

  Jacky inched a step closer. “And what would that cause be?”

  “She’s happy on the perch, for the most part.”

  Jacky tapped the tip of Brooke’s nose. “Lessons are far from over.”

  Brooke looked up into Jacky’s playful eyes. “I’m okay with that.”

  “Good.” She drew an audible breath. “That’s very good.”

  Her breath tickled Brooke’s nose. “Yes,” Brooke whispered. “That is indeed very good.”

  “I’ll call you later to set up another session.”

  “Okay,” she managed to murmur.

  ~ ~

  Brooke’s head still spun as she suited up and walked down to the apiary. She turned her cell phone’s ringer up to full volume, then placed it on a dry log.

  She walked up to a hive box and removed the lid, peeking inside for an up close and personal look at the progress. She noticed the wax oozing over the top of some of the trays. She removed the wax-filled ones and set them aside, tapping the bees from them so they’d land safely in the other trays that would need attention.

  She held up one of the honeycombs and observed her bees. “I flirted with a woman today,” she said. “Yes. A real live, in-the-flesh woman, not a virtual date. I found her by natural foraging means. And yes, before you wonder, a true flirt. I even cocked my head the way people do in the movies.”

  A bee buzzed around her head. It perched itself on the rim of her hat and watched as she flipped over the tray. “I like her. Perhaps too much for my own good.”

  Standing under the apiary’s tallest tree, she closed her eyes and took in the melodic hum of the honeybees’ wings. Bee stood by her side. “I enjoy myself when she’s around. It’s like she’s interested in what I have to say. That’s new for me.”

  Bee sniffed her feet, and a bee buzzed around her head. She eyed it, remaining calm and allowing it to inspect her.

  Brooke walked over to a second hive, easing open the lid. She removed one of the lighter trays and admired the bees as they worked. Then, her phone rang. She jumped toward the log, then stopped.

  No, she warned herself. Absolutely not. You’re not going to get in over your head like this. If it’s Jacky, then let it be Jacky. She can leave a message just like every other person who calls my phone. She’s just like everyone else, except not an apiary customer or a date. She’s your trainer.

  Her heart raced when the pinging continued. Every ounce of her being wanted Jacky to be on the other end of that ping. She inspected the tray again, watching as the bees scurried about doing their work, like good focused members of a well-oiled machine. She focused in on a few bees tending to larvae. “The way she looks at me with those deep and gripping eyes,” she said to them, “and the softness of her hands when she grabbed my ankle, oh well let’s just say, she intoxicated me. And, gosh, she always smells so good.”

  The bees remained dutiful, listening as they worked.

  “I’m doing it again. I’m talking to you.” They continued to work without judgment. “She’s not exactly relationship material, at the moment. She’s still in love with her wife. To get involved in any other way than friends would be irresponsible on my part. She’d wake up one day and realize she moved too quickly, and that no one would ever compare to her beautiful Drew. Then, I’d end up hurt for sure. I get her circumstance. I do. It’s just that I really like her.”

  Brooke continued collecting wax-laden trays. “You know what? One last word and I’m done talking.” She raised up a tray and spoke to a herd of bees in the far corner. “A part of her might be interested in me too. But guilt blocks her. I can tell. I will never tell anyone else what I’m about to say.” Brooke paused and leaned in to whisper, “She liked flirting with me too. I think she liked it a lot.”

  ~ ~

  The following Saturday, Sophie arrived at the apiary excited to get started on another day of beekeeping and gardening. Elise called her over to the back patio while Brooke got Bee situated with a toy and water.

  “I’ve got a little something for you,” she said, sneaking a flash-drive into Sophie’s jacket pocket. “It should help with your research.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll see.” Elise’s eyes shined.

  Brooke came up behind them, and Elise swiped her hands together. “Okay, time for me to go shopping while you two get working.”

  Joy sprinkled in the air.

  “Ready Sophie?”

  “Can’t wait,” Sophie said, catching the edge of a wink from Elise as they turned toward the nursery greenhouse.

  They spent the morning exploring the various flowers and plants in the greenhouse. Curiosity filled Sophie. She asked burning question after question with barely a breath in between. Sophie couldn’t contain the excitement. Instead of waiting for answers to her questions, she hopped right into telling Brooke about the school project.

  “I want to save the bees, and I want everyone else in my class to as well. Most of my friends have no clue the bees are in trouble or how that affects them. I told one kid that without them we won’t have all the colorful fruits and veggies that are in the grocery stores. He laughed and said he hated fruits and veggies anyway.” She pruned a browned leaf off a bell pepper plant, and used the back of her hand to brush away some loose strands of hair from her face. “I could create a bookmark and list five ideas people can do to save the bees.”

  “I’d love to help you with that.”

  Sophie beamed, then continued her garden work.

  At one point, Brooke stopped clipping. “You’re going to make a fine beekeeper.”

  ~ ~

  Once they finished up their work in the greenhouse, they took a break and sipped some lemonade.

  Brooke sat on the wide, flat rock near the hummingbird feeder. She patted the spot next to her. “Have a seat.”

  Sophie sat on command, taking a sip of her drink. She looked out over the field of green, contemplating the world’s troubles. “Will the honeybees eventually die out?” />
  Brooke pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them. “If we continue to be careless.”

  “You’re not careless, are you?”

  “On some level, we’re all to blame.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, we go to the grocery store and buy apples, lettuce, almonds, and don’t contemplate how they grew to be so delicious and beautiful. We just pick them up, buy them, and eat them because that’s what we’ve always done.”

  “Let me play devil’s advocate.”

  Brooke giggled. “Okay. Let’s hear your argument.”

  “Well, we do need to eat.”

  “We do. But, for every pesticide-ridden apple I purchase, I’m supporting the decline of bees.”

  “So, unless you’re rich, you can’t support saving the bees?”

  “I’m not saying that. It’s the little things that add up to bigger things. So, if you can’t afford organic produce, maybe you can afford a package of wildflower seeds to plant in your yard or a flowerbox on your window.”

  Sophie considered her rebuttal with a tilt to her chin, absorbing her idea.

  “We do what we can and with as much heart as we can. Honeybees are the glue that binds all of us together. They are what’s known as a keystone species.”

  “A keystone species?”

  “Yes. It means they have a much larger role in the grand ecosystem than most any other species. Without them, major disturbances would take place. The ripple effect would spread far and wide. The entire system as we know it would destabilize without their presence.”

  Sophie stared at a hummingbird feeding, sobering over that terror.

  In Sophie’s world, her mother had been the keystone species. Her mother had stood at the center of her life. Things worked when she took the helm. She kept order where there could’ve been chaos. She casted light in the dark tunnel of life’s mysterious twists and turns. When she died, that light dimmed and everything went dark. Everything died along with her. One thing at a time shriveled – her friendships, her desires to continue school activities, her fun, her laughter, and her hunger for exploring beyond her once happy family home. The ripple effect had cast wide and was just recently slowing down.