by Regina Doman
“Good!” Blanche exclaimed. “Well, I’ll see you then.”
She hung up the phone with a light heart and turned to Bear, smiling. He grinned back. She wondered for a moment if she should leave a note for Rose. But I’ll probably see her there, she thought in a rush of excitement. With Rob. And all the other popular crowd. Suddenly her insides trembled again. Maybe it might not be so nice, if Lisa and Eileen saw her with Bear and decided to make fun of him too …
Don’t think about it, she told herself fiercely as she went back to the living room to leave.
Outside, the rain shook out of the sky like pepper and the city danced excitedly. Bear dragged her along, swinging her over the puddles that were too big to jump over. “We’ll take the bus,” he said. “It’s too far to walk at night.”
“I have money,” she said, fingering her purse.
“Keep it. My treat,” he grinned at her.
They came to the main street, and half ran to the bus stop. The cape flew out behind her, and she couldn’t help laughing as she tried to keep her dress and shoes from getting wet. It was the silliest thing in the world—taking a city bus to crash her own after-prom party in the company of Mr. Grunge. But she was doing it, and that gave her a terrified courage.
“You’re drinking in the joy of life,” Bear told her when she tried to explain why she was laughing. “There’s so much opportunity for drinking deeply of it, and we very rarely do it. When you do, it makes you feel alive all over.”
“I do feel alive,” she told him.
“You look alive,” he said to her, looking at her flushed cheeks and smiling. “You didn’t even need to wear blush.”
“My skin’s too white,” she said.
“Says who, Snow White?” he asked, touching her cheek lightly with one hand.
Chapter 10
THEY GOT OFF at their stop, and the bus rushed on its way with a roar through the rainy night. Bear continued talking as they walked down the glittering sidewalk. “Every once in a while you just have to decide to go out and do something very crazy and very right—just to dare yourself to live. I don’t mean doing something stupid and destructive—just something fun and good and beautiful. Otherwise, you’ll be a drone like everyone else, following the crowd instead of joining the Great Dance of Life. We’re in the Dance right now. Consciously. Can’t you feel it?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice.
He paused in the dim spot between two streetlights and looked at her. “You look almost elven in that grey hood,” he told her.
Something quickened in Blanche—she felt elven. She drew closer to Bear with a sudden, child-like trust.
They were approaching the school grounds. The after-prom, the party sponsored by the parents to keep kids from going out drinking, had just started, and the parking lot was full of rented limousines dropping off kids in tuxedos and gowns. Some of them stood outside around the entrance smoking beneath umbrellas, making an odd picture in their satin gowns and bow ties. Blanche was glad that Bear was next to her as they walked through the crowd.
Inside was a roar of noise and a thundering beat of music. The chaperone by the door eyed Bear warily and asked for their prom tickets. Bear argued with him that they had missed the prom, and the chaperone let them in after seeing Blanche’s student identification card, which she had remembered to bring with her.
“I’m glad they let us in,” Bear shouted in her ear, as he helped her take off her cloak and handed it to the teacher manning the coatroom. Without the protection of the heavy tweed, Blanche felt naked and vulnerable in her flimsy sequin dress, discreet as it was. She couldn’t meet the eyes of the kids who stood chattering in the hallway. Bear took her by the hand and led her into the darkened gym where the dancing had started.
The strobe lights in the gym made the walls pulse and gyrate with color in the semi-darkness. White crosshatched trellises dotted with tissue flowers lined the gymnasium, with a huge artificial fountain at one end. Tables with floral covers dotted the sides of the hall. Couples leaned against the walls or sat at tables, talking. The dance floor was crowded with pulsing dancers, and more people were coming in all the time. The beat was so loud it shook the floor beneath their feet.
Blanche had been wishing that it wasn’t so dark so that she could find Rose, and now she was wishing that she hadn’t come at all. She noticed that the other kids passing them turned away and steered clear of Bear.
Did they know something she didn’t know? Her tentative trust in him was shaken, and her feelings of uncertainty came sweeping back.
Bear himself seemed to have lost his confidence, and stood hesitantly, looking at the churning mass of people. Blanche didn’t see anyone she recognized.
“Do you want to sit down?” he yelled in her ear.
She nodded and he led her over to an abandoned table. He sat down and put one arm across the back of her chair. It was an odd sensation to have him so close to her, but reassuring.
It was too loud to even consider talking. The crowd of people thrashed about to the music, jumping and shaking. Almost nobody was smiling. They all had either tight-lipped looks of grim concentration on their faces or fake smiles—everyone was playing a role, even those who seemed so scornfully unconcerned about what others thought of them.
Bear was surveying the scene critically. She wondered what he thought of it. Somehow, it didn’t seem like his idea of fun.
“Are you happy?” she thought she heard him ask.
“What?”
With a crash and a rumble the stereo cranked into a slow swoon song with a pulsing beat. The rioting subsided and couples began to melt into each other’s arms. Everyone seemed to be with a partner, although some dissolved from the group and gathered like sediment on the walls of the gym. The head cheerleader and a dark-haired husky young man were heavily involved with each other, but even they were aware of who was watching.
“Would you like to dance?” Bear shouted above the bellowing singer, and Blanche nodded and rose, nervously throwing back her hair. She was glad she had worn it down, as it seemed to give her some protection. The song was one she didn’t recognize. It was something too old or too new, and either way she felt uncomfortable. Bear put his one arm on her waist and held the other out in a surprisingly gracious manner. At first, she thought he was being funny.
“What, is this a waltz?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything, but abruptly put his arms in a half-hug around her waist that was more in conformity with the rest of the crowd. Keeping a comfortable distance from him, she put her arms around his neck, and they began to dance. Somehow, this was more uncomfortable, because she had to look in his eyes or at his throat, and she couldn’t do either. So she looked to the side, watching everyone else dance. He did the same.
The girls from class were there, wrapped in embraces with their dates. Eileen Raskin was wearing an unbelievably short black dress with ropes of pearls dangling down the low-cut back. She had her hair up and looked very chic. Blanche didn’t recognize the guy, and supposed he was a college boyfriend.
Lisa was in a red velvet mini-dress with ruffles. Her face seemed to be hidden behind a mask of make-up. Blanche thought she looked like a snake. Her date, Lester Johnston, appeared more brutal than normal, if that was possible. Bear and Blanche brushed by them and Lisa gave Blanche a narrow, questioning look as though she didn’t recognize her.
There was no sign of Rose or Rob. It was as though they were in a crowd of strangers. No one talked to them. The girls who usually sat near Blanche either avoided her or were nowhere to be seen. The guys, on the other hand, kept throwing glances at Bear, and she saw gestures and muffled laughter. She looked at Bear, who was stolid, not looking at them.
“What’s their problem?” she asked.
“Just ignore them,” he said.
After two songs, Blanche still hadn’t seen Rose and concluded that she must have gone with Rob to the party at his house after all. She managed to say hi to one o
r two girls from English class, and finally felt comfortable enough to face the crowd in the bathroom and replenish her blush.
She didn’t recognize anyone right away, and slipped into one of the stalls. As she did, she overheard some conversation that made her heart jump.
“Did you see that guy who walked in with Blanche Brier?” she heard a shrill voice say as the door banged open. Lani Ferguson.
“Yeah. He’s probably some distant relative she dug up to take her to the prom,” Lisa said pithily, and someone snorted.
“Tom said he knows the guy. He’s a dealer who hangs out around here sometimes,” said Lani. Blanche’s stomach gave a lurch.
“I wonder if Blanche knows what she’s gotten herself into—probably so desperate for a date she didn’t care,” Lisa scoffed. Someone clicked a lighter and Blanche smelled cigarette smoke.
“Is this guy the same one who cheated Tom out of fifty dollars last week?” Eileen was interested.
“No, that was some other guy they both know,” Lani explained. “But Tom swore he’s mad enough to call the cops on this guy.”
Eileen laughed. “Tom? Tom’s close enough to getting kicked out of school before graduation as it is. He’ll talk like that, but he’s too scared to do anything that would ruin his chance of an athletic scholarship. Did Shannon tell you what happened to them last night?”
It seemed as though the girls remained there for hours, talking and smoking. By the blue clouds rising to the ceiling, Blanche knew they were planning on hanging out there for a while.
Meanwhile, their words about Bear smouldered in her thoughts. Was he really a drug dealer like they said? What if something happened to Bear while she was still in here, a trapped eavesdropper? Should she just walk out? That would make her look like a fool, for certain. But suppose that boy did call the cops on Bear... Her throat went dry. Suppose they were making the phone call now?
Or she could simply stay here… and let Bear be arrested…
It would be the easy, safe way out, but Blanche realized that it would be the coward’s way. As uncertain as she still was about Bear, she couldn’t, couldn’t treat him like this. He deserved more of her trust, especially now.
Hands on the latch, she prayed an entire “Hail Mary,” then opened the door and walked quickly to the sink.
Eileen and Lisa looked over, and watched her, silently. She could see their reflections looking at her in the mirror. Her own reflection was bright red. Hardly breathing, she fiddled for a paper towel, hearing them savor the silence. In her imagination, she could see their black-rimmed eyes boring into her so potently that they left marks on her skin.
Finally, Lisa spoke, “Hey, Blanche—” but suddenly the door banged open and a girl outside hissed, “Teacher!” signaling the three girls to duck into the stalls and flush their cigarettes down the toilet. They pushed past Blanche out of the restroom, Lisa breathing, “Watch your step, Immaculate Complexion,” as her red lips passed Blanche’s ear. A moment later a suspicious chaperone peered into the restroom and sniffed. Blanche wasn’t smoking, but all the same, she received a searching look before the chaperone closed the door.
Blanche was fighting back angry tears as she burst out of the restroom and made her way back through the crowds to find Bear.
She found him drifting along on the outer fringes of the crowd by the gym doors, but before she could say anything to him, he steered her back inside. He took her onto the dance floor, elbowing through the commotion to the far side of the gym, away from the chaperones. She wondered if something had happened, but he said nothing as they began to dance.
The song was a silly one from the sixties, and Blanche felt that her awkward attempts to dance to it weren’t very successful. But what else could she do? She couldn’t dance in front of Bear the way the girls around her were dancing with their dates. It was a wretched situation, and she decided that she wanted to go home.
“Bear,” she said at last, but she hadn’t spoken loudly enough and he didn’t hear her. Just then, the song ended, and a completely different beat began. It was an oldie—a song she faintly recognized.
Say, it’s only a paper moon,
Sailing over a cardboard sea,
But it wouldn’t be make believe,
If you believed in me.
There were groans and a general exodus of kids from the dance floor. It wasn’t the heavy-handed beat they were used to—it had a swing beat. Obviously one of the chaperones had requested it.
Yes, it’s only a canvas sky,
Hanging over a muslin tree,
But it wouldn’t be make believe,
If you believed in me.
It sounded like a decent song, but Blanche had no idea how to dance to it. Some of the athletic types were still on the floor, bopping around, and a few of the chaperones were cutting loose on the sidelines. But most of the crowd had stopped dancing, and were talking loudly, hoping that the DJ would change it.
She saw Bear staring at the dance floor, an angry look on his face. Suddenly, he grabbed her hands. “Come on,” he said, “follow me,” and pulled her into the middle of the gym.
He faced her, putting one hand on her waist and with the other held her hand while he stood still, feeling for the beat. The next minute, he pulled her towards him and began swing dancing, carrying her with him.
It felt so natural even though she had no idea what to do. Amazed, she yielded to him and let him do what he wanted. “I’m going to spin you,” he said in her ear, and the next second he pushed her away from him and let go of her hand and she spun around, her satin skirt rippling marvelously around her legs. Next instant, he had pulled her in, whirled her out in the other direction, and spun her again. It was so exhilarating she almost laughed.
Without your love,
It’s a honkey-tonk parade,
Without your love,
It’s a melody played in a penny arcade.
The crowd on the sidelines gaped at the longhaired rat in the tux dancing the jitterbug with all the flair of a veteran. And the thin girl in his arms became an iris of swirling color with every flick of his wrists, as if he were working some kind of spell.
It’s a Barnum and Bailey world,
Just as phony as it can be,
But it wouldn’t be make believe
If you believed in me.
When the song was done, Blanche landed exhausted in his arms and he dipped her dramatically, and drawing her up, kissed her on the forehead.
“You were great,” he told her. “For five minutes, you were the envy of every girl in the gym. You could see it in their faces.”
Blanche was in a daze as they walked back to their seats, but still exhilarated. He had kissed her. On the forehead, well, sure, but it was a kiss. Her first. And she had never danced like that before. She felt a lightness inside, as though all of her dark angry thoughts had spun away with that miraculous dance.
“That was the first time I actually liked dancing,” she burst out to him.
He grinned at her, “That’s because that was real dancing.”
She stared at him in awe and with a new respect. His long hair seemed poetic instead of pathetic now. First the Sonata, and now this dancing—“There’s something strange about you—” she started to say.
“Oh, well, thanks!” he chuckled, his brown eyes twinkling at her.
“No, I mean—” her thoughts trailed away as Dr. Freet, the principal, loomed into their vision. He looked like his artistic brother, but taller and balder. Right now, his face was hard.
“Young man, I want you out of here, before I call the police. Out of this building, and away from school property.”
“Listen, I was just taking my friend here to her prom. Is that a crime? What, are you going to embarrass her by kicking her out of her own prom just because you don’t like the way I look?” Bear said angrily.
“It’s not because of how you look, it’s because of who you are,” the principal said coldly. “She can stay, if she wants
.”
“No, thank you, I’ll go,” Blanche said quietly, and gripped Bear’s arm to tell him that she was serious. She just wanted to get out.
The principal escorted them to the coatroom and Bear apparently decided to unnerve the man by helping Blanche put her cloak on and opening the door for her with the smoothest gentility as they left the building. They walked out of the school silently.
Bear steered them through the shadows of the now deserted parking lot. The rain had paused, and the sidewalk shimmered with beads of oily rain.
“Blanche, I’m sorry this happened,” he said quietly, still sounding angry.
But she clung to his arm. “Bear, I had such a wonderful time,” she said, sighing.
He seemed surprised. “Really?” he asked.
“Really!” She met his eyes, and saw them kindle with renewed warmth.
“Great!” he said exultantly, and lifted her up over a puddle. She laughed, and he accidentally missed and set her down in the middle of it with a splash. She gasped at her wet shoes and then burst out laughing, hugging him.
“Forget it, just forget it!” she gasped.
He held her too, looking into her eyes, and she suddenly began to feel very shy. But all at once Bear stiffened and whirled Blanche behind his back. She peered around him and saw three boys.
They were standing there, watching them. One of them Blanche recognized as Tom.
“What do you want?” Bear said after a pause, in a voice Blanche had never heard him use before, slow and dangerous. He still held her hand tightly.
“That’s what we’re wondering about you, junkie,” the biggest boy said, with a grin on his face. “We were wondering if you happened to bring back the fifty dollars you ripped off from my buddy here last week.”
