by Mona Ingram
JANELLE HUMMED SOFTLY to herself as she hobbled up the stairs. She was pleased with what she’d accomplished on the sculpture today and was looking forward to getting away from the farm and spending an evening at The Trip. Thankfully, she’d be switching to a walking cast and a cane in a few days. She paused on the landing to catch her breath. Charlie’s bedroom door was open and she lay sprawled on the bed, fully dressed and sound asleep. Janelle turned away and then looked back. Her niece’s dark, curly hair was tousled by sleep and she fingered her own straight locks, wishing she’d been in line for that particular gene. She hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but Charlie’s strong, thin nose and generous lips were vaguely familiar. With a frown, she studied the line of Charlie’s chin and her graceful neck. “She reminds me of someone,” Janelle said to no one in particular. Perplexed, she made her way down the hall toward her own room. She badly needed the shower that would wash away the dust of today’s efforts. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, bouncing off the glass in one of the framed portraits. With a smile of recognition, she paused in front of the portrait of Charlotte Freeman, her grandmother’s sister.
“The resemblance is uncanny,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head to one side to study the portrait. She searched the corners of her memory for what she knew about the young woman in the portrait. None of what she’d been told was happy.
YOU’RE SURE I LOOK okay?” Charlie climbed into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck and glanced over at her aunt. She wasn’t usually nervous in new situations, but she wanted to make a good impression. She thought about Jason and winced.
Janelle’s smile bolstered her confidence. “You look wonderful. I wish I had your clothes sense.” Her lips twitched. “You didn’t get that from your mother.”
Charlie nodded. “I know I shouldn’t criticize her, but you’ve got that right. What can I say? Mom’s never been a happy camper.”
Janelle gave a wry smile. “Don’t worry, she’s my sister, remember?” They’d come to the end of the long driveway and Janelle indicated that they should turn right on the paved road, heading toward town. “Let’s just say that your Mom and I see things from different perspectives. She always wanted things to be just so. When we were kids she kept her half of the room neat and tidy and mine was a mess.” Her voice turned thoughtful. “I would guess that that’s what went wrong in her marriage too, although it isn’t my place to say. I think she wanted everything to be perfect and she thought she could mould your Dad into her version of what a husband should be.”
“And we all know how well that worked.” Charlie turned silent for a moment. “At least he’s content now with his new wife. Mom won’t even allow me to mention his name, but I’m happy for him.” Charlie darted a quick look at her aunt. “You know, I never talk about them, even with my best friend. You have no idea what a relief it is to have someone to talk to.”
“Actually, I do.” Janelle tilted her chin toward the last streaks of colour in the darkening sky. The undersides of the distant clouds were painted brilliant orange, bruised plum and soft peach; a rapidly fading fruit salad of colour. “Stop here for a moment, would you? I love to watch the sky when the sun is going down.”
Charlie pulled over and her aunt continued talking.
“When we were young, Matt and I used to drive out to the middle of nowhere and watch the sunsets. That’s what we were doing the first time I told him about my dreams of becoming a sculptor. He was the first person to encourage me and the only person who took me seriously.” Her voice trailed off as the colour faded from the sky. “So yes, I know what it’s like to have someone to talk to. Someone who understands.”
“He sounds like a great guy.” Charlie was glad her aunt could talk so freely about the man she’d loved.
“He was.” Janelle motioned for Charlie to pull back out onto the road. “But tonight we’re going to listen to some music and enjoy ourselves. You never know what will happen at The Light Fantastic. That’s what makes it magical.”
“This dance hall...” Charlie searched for the right words. “Is it something to do with life on the prairies? I mean, I’ve never heard of an actual dance hall before. When you first mentioned it, I thought you were kidding.”
“Really?” Janelle chuckled. “Back in the 1920s and 30s people would come from miles around to dance and to visit. It was the center of social life in the area, and one of the few forms of entertainment. That was back before I was born of course, but growing up I thought every town had one. It wasn’t until I started travelling that I realized how unique it is.” They were entering the outskirts of the small town, where grain elevators dominated the skyline, towering over the buildings clustered around the railway. Janelle watched Charlie’s reaction with interest. “I keep forgetting you’ve only been here once in your life, and you were only...what?...eight or nine?”
“Something like that. Mom couldn’t quite remember. Charlie craned her neck to look up at the massive structures.
The main road led them through the commercial center of town before making a wide, sweeping turn down toward the lake. Along the waterfront, buildings and trees sparkled with white lights, a virtual fairyland.
“It’s beautiful,” sighed Charlie. “I had no idea.”
Janelle smiled as though she too was seeing it for the first time. “It is, isn’t it? The thermal springs attract a lot of tourists and the town council decided to spend some money to brighten up the waterfront.” She pointed proudly. “And there’s The Light Fantastic.”
A large rectangular building dominated the shoreline. The entire building was outlined with lights and the words Dance Hall blazed across a tall false front. Janelle pointed to the entrance. “If you’d drop me off here, I’ll wait for you. You can park in the alley beside the building. We normally use the side entrance, but it’s your first time, so I want you to see it properly.”
Charlie parked and joined her aunt on the sidewalk in front of a set of broad, open doors. “Charlie Mitchell, welcome to The Light Fantastic.”
Several groups of people lingered in the foyer, chatting and laughing. Janelle led Charlie to an ornate ticket window, presided over by an older woman. “Margie, I’d like you to meet my niece, Charlie Mitchell.”
“Well, hello dearie.” Dark eyes assessed her quickly, and Charlie had the distinct impression that she’d just passed some sort of test. “Welcome to our little family.”
“Margie has been running the ticket booth for over thirty years now.” Janelle’s voice held genuine affection.
“That’s right.” The woman scanned the lobby before bringing her gaze back to Charlie. “I started here the year my boys finished school. Been at it ever since.” She gestured grandly toward the entrance. “Go on now, show her around.” She leaned forward, resting her ample bosom on the counter. “You come visit me any time, you hear?” She turned to greet a newly arrived foursome.
Chapter Four
CHARLIE’S EYES ADJUSTED slowly to the dim lighting inside the hall. Her aunt stayed back, allowing her to take it all in.
Stepping inside was like going back in time... and into the center of a carousel. The building was tall, the height easily accommodating the traditional carousel top. A central pole completed the illusion. Twelve large niches had been cleverly inset into the walls and each one held an exquisitely carved carousel horse. Lit for maximum effect, the painted animals appeared to dance and float through the air, manes and tails flying as they galloped around the room.
Booths around the edge of the room had been designed to resemble the seats of a carousel. At each booth, a pool of candlelight cast a soft, intimate glow. The setting was pure magic, and Charlie gasped in delight, trying to take it all in.
“This is amazing.” She turned to find her aunt watching her. “Can you feel it?” She continued to turn in a slow circle, her gaze briefly caressing each horse, then lifting to take in the sweeping canopy of the carousel roof.
“Feel what?” Janelle look
ed at her curiously.
“The history.” Charlie raked her fingers though her hair, not caring if she messed it up. There were too many competing images stampeding through her mind. Too many different stories had played out here, in this amazing building.
She tilted her head, as though listening to voices from the past. “The hope, the disappointment, the love.” A sudden chill slithered up her spine. “The sorrow.”
Janelle gave her an odd look. “You can feel all that?”
Charlie laughed self-consciously. “Don’t listen to me. I have an over-active imagination.”
“That’s better than no imagination at all.” Janelle gave her a clumsy hug, balanced on her crutches. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the band. They start their first set in five minutes.”
They made their way to a raised dais. A tall man with a dark tan and a white moustache beamed as he picked up his guitar. “Charlie, this rogue’s name is Clint Jackson. Clint, this is my niece.” She nodded to the rest of the band members, most of whom were as old as Clint. “Hi boys. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” She guided Charlie away and leaned closer. “Clint Jackson and His Prairie Gentlemen. The ladies love them.”
Charlie glanced over her shoulder. “They’re–”
“I know, I know. Every one of them has grey hair.” She raised her eyebrows. “Those who still have hair, that is. But trust me, they’re the main attraction.”
“Have I fallen down a rabbit hole?” Charlie eyed her aunt. “I can’t quite put it in words, but in Clearwater Springs everything’s different. It’s solid. It’s...I don’t know...it seems comfortable with itself. Permanent, I guess. Back in the city life moves so quickly.”
Janelle laughed. “I don’t know much about living in the city, but you’re right about Clearwater Springs. Here people put down roots and they stay. If you weren’t born here, you’re a newcomer.”
“That explains it, I guess.”
“What’s that?”
“Jason. He’s not sure about me. I’m from the outside, so I must be different.”
“That’s probably why he’s interested.”
“Do you think so?” Charlie suspected she sounded like an over-eager teenager, but the idea intrigued her.
“Oh, I think so. And I hear he’s a good dancer.”
Charlie’s heart fell. “Well, that’s just great. I’m a lousy dancer.” She didn’t even hear the music start up, or notice the couples moving onto the dance floor.
Janelle guided her off to the side. “You really don’t know how to dance?”
“I’m hopeless. I don’t know why I never learned properly. Maybe it’s because I grew up in one of those periods when kids never actually touched each other when they danced, but I just never learned to do this kind of dancing.” She looked longingly at the couples swirling by.
“Well that’s easily enough remedied.”
“Oh no.” Charlie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Nonsense.” Charlie could almost see the thoughts forming in her aunt’s head. “I know the ideal person to teach you. He’s not too old, and he’s one of the best dancers in town.” She nodded to herself. “This will work, I know it will.”
“Janelle.” A thin woman with a round, open face came scurrying up. “Sorry to interrupt you, but somehow the cooler was unplugged overnight, and the drinks are warm. Marty drained the water, and he’s gone to town to pick up some ice, but I wanted to let you know.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a tizzy.”
“Can I do something to help?” Charlie stepped forward. “I’m Charlie, Janelle’s niece.”
“I’m Bev. Do you know how to make nachos?” The woman shook her head. “Of course you do.” She looked at Janelle. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all, and don’t worry. It’ll work out all right. It always does.” She smiled at Charlie. “I’m going to go visit with some friends. Take your time and I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks, Janelle.” Bev hurried back to the concession area, and Charlie had to scurry to keep up with her. “If you make up the orders, I’ll do everything else.”
The work progressed smoothly and Charlie was almost reluctant to give up her temporary position when Marty returned. “That was fun. Call on me any time you need help in the future.”
“We will. And thanks again.” Bev gave her a quick hug and then turned to serve another customer.
JANELLE WAS RIGHT; the band was great. Standing in the shadows, Charlie watched the dancers float across the floor. Was it her imagination, or had they all left their cares at home? Just for tonight, were their hearts a little lighter? Did they dare to dream that their wishes could come true? In this magical place, anything seemed possible.
She wandered outside where a large deck jutted out over the lake. Tiki torches flickered in the warm evening air. She leaned on the railing, absorbing the stillness of the lake. Somewhere in the distance a loon warbled, its call hauntingly beautiful.
“Don’t you love that sound?” Charlie’s heart lurched at the sound of his voice. She grabbed the railing for support and turned to find Jason a few feet away. He was staring into the water and when he lifted his head the dancing flame of the torch was mirrored in his eyes. “I figure that as long as we can hear a loon on the lake, things are going to be all right.”
“Like the canary in the coal mine?”
His eyes widened; she could tell that he was pleased that she’d caught his meaning. “Yeah, like that.”
It was a relief to know that she’d finally said something right.
He took a few steps closer. “Would you like something to drink?”
She nodded. He didn’t seem like the same person who had yelled at her this morning. But then she didn’t feel like the same person who had yelled back. “A soft drink would be great.”
“Let me guess.” He smiled, and for the first time she noticed a dimple in his right cheek. “Cream soda, right?”
She nodded again. How had he guessed?
“Let’s sit.” He moved to a table, pulled out a chair, and she sat down gratefully. His fingers lingered on her shoulder for a moment and then he was gone, moving across the deck with confident ease. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him; everything about this man was exciting and new. Suddenly she wanted to know more.
He was back a few minutes later. “I saw Janelle, by the way. She’s visiting with some friends.” He set a bottle in front of her and handed her a straw. “I took a chance and didn’t bring you a paper cup. Don’t ask me why, but cream soda just tastes better out of the bottle.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” The liquid was cool and sweet on her tongue. She closed her eyes as it slid down her throat.
“We actually agree on something. That’s a good sign.” He reached into his pocket, sorted through his change for a penny and slapped it on the table. “There you go; a penny for your thoughts.”
Charlie stared at the coin for a moment and then picked it up. “I was thinking about you, actually. You know, wondering who you are.” She leaned forward and tapped the coin against his chest. “In here.”
He shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable. “Me? Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m dull as dishwater.” He couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. “That’s one of my mother’s expressions. Graphic, wouldn’t you say?”
Charlie shook her head. “You’re trying to side-track me, but you’ll have to do better than that.”
“I was afraid of that,” he murmured and his gaze wandered out over the lake.
“I’m not asking you to tell me any deep, dark secrets.”
He was silent for a moment, lost in thought. For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed unsure of himself. “You know something? I just realized I don’t really have any secrets. How can that be?” He turned his attention to the soda bottle, running his fingers up and down through the condensation until it stood in a puddle of water. “Maybe I really am as dull as dishwater.”
&n
bsp; “No you’re not.” Charlie kept her tone light; this was not the time for another confrontation. “As you pointed out, I know very little about farming, but I do know about people. Not everyone could survive in a business where you’re at the mercy of the elements, or where a disease could wipe out your livelihood. You live in a practical world; a world where you can’t put off today’s chores until tomorrow. It may come across as dull to some people, but it takes a high degree of determination and focus.” She took a sip of soda. “Am I right?”
He raised his eyes and looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. “Yes, you are. With farming there’s not much time for anything else. I’m surprised that you understand that.”
“You mean City Girls don’t have a lick of common sense?” she teased.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that.”
She waved a hand in the air. “Forget it, and you’re still not off the hook. Tell me about you. Your family.”
“Oh them. They’re great. Well, most of the time they’re great.” The smile on his face made it clear how he felt.
“Mom and Dad are retired now and live on Vancouver Island. They passed the farm on to Brad and I. Brad’s married to Wendy and they have three kids. Stu and Timmy are twin boys, around twelve, and Annie is their girl, around eight.”
“Who’s older?”
“You mean between Brad and I? He loves to rub it in that he’s two years older. Their home is about half a mile down the road from Janelle’s and mine is about a mile east on a rise overlooking the river.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is, but I spend a lot of time with Brad and Wendy. Especially since...” His voice tapered off and a shadow crossed his features, but he recovered quickly. “Especially since Wendy cooks every night. Plus, we keep all the farm equipment in the barns at the big house.”
“Sounds like a good sized farm.”
“Two and a half sections. We have a combination of cattle and crops.”
