by Geof Johnson
Her opening moves were simple: shuffle toe, shuffle toe toe, shuffle toe, brush step. She repeated the combination with each foot as she moved her arms; the music was uncomplicated and energetic. More lights came on, blues and deep reds. The music morphed into a propulsive techno-beat, and Fred danced aggressively, athletically, hammering the stage with her taps. Power and grace and beauty. That’s what she is.
The music changed again. It’s a medley, Evelyn realized. It became a country swing and Fred glided about the stage, more arms and legs, fewer strikes with her feet, almost like a ballerina at a barn dance. She skipped to the edge of the curtain and someone from the wings handed her a rose. She put it in her mouth, clapped her hands and stamped her foot twice, and the music changed to flamenco, a nylon string guitar strumming furiously. Applause burst from the audience as Fred, back straight and face held high, unleashed a dizzying rhythm of claps and steps that pushed Evelyn’s pulse even higher.
Fred plucked the rose from her mouth and threw it into the crowd, and the music shifted, simplifying to a single bass drum that pounded thunderously on the downbeat. Fred supplied the other rhythms, an orchestra of percussionists in her heels and toes. She danced less with her arms and more with her feet, the permutations of the rhythms becoming more and more complex, her black-sequined shoes blurring and the machine-gun clacks of the taps accelerating to a dazzling chatter that nearly overwhelmed Evelyn’s senses.
Fred, dancing with so much energy she threatened to catch on fire, worked her way to the far right side of the stage. Is she going to get another prop? A rose? The music pounded and more instruments joined to swell it to a feverous pitch. What’s she going to do? She’s going to explode! She paused at the edge of the curtain and the music reached a crescendo.
Evelyn gasped as Fred did three backwards handsprings, head over heels, her red hair forming a searing arc as she twirled, her feet striking the floor together — crack, crack, crack — while the entire audience held its collective breath. On the last titanic crash of the music, she landed on the floor in a split, threw her arms out and thrust her chin high, smiling broadly.
There was a brief, incomprehensible pause. No music. No dancing. No sound. Fred on the floor, posing theatrically and smiling as her chest heaved. The audience processing what just happened.
It’s over!
Larry and Lisa were first on their feet, clapping. Evelyn quickly followed with the rest of the crowd. Even the couple in the row in front of Evelyn stood, eventually. Fred rose and bowed to the deafening ovation. She’s going to win! Evelyn was certain. Fred walked to the wings but had to return as the crowd continued to applaud. She tried to leave again but had to come back for another bow.
Fred skipped to the wings as the applause faded, and the Master of Ceremonies walked onstage to announce that there would be a ten-minute intermission while the judges tallied their votes.
“Oh, my heart!” Rachel said, putting her hand to her chest. “I don’t know if it could’ve taken much more.” Evelyn looked past Rachel to see Lisa’s reaction: she was dabbing her eyes with a tissue while Larry stood beside her, beaming like a red-headed lighthouse.
The couple in front of them turned and the woman said to Evelyn, “So you know that girl?”
“Very well. I used to baby sit her after school when she was younger. The ventriloquist, Rollie, too. The magician, Jamie, is my grandson.”
“They’re all so good.” The woman shook her head slowly. “How did they get that way?”
“I used to have them do benefit shows all the time, like Elks Club dinners and retirement homes and such. They’ve done an awful lot of performances, though never on a stage as nice as this. A few times Fred even had to dance on a sheet of plywood so she wouldn’t scuff up the floor, but she did it anyway. She’s a trooper.”
“The tap dancer? I thought the announcer said her name was Grace Mary.”
“We started calling her Red when she was little,” Lisa said. “But when her little personality started showing, we changed it to Fred the Firecracker.”
“She sure dances like a firecracker,” Connie said.
The woman in front of them gave her head a tight shake. “More like a box of dynamite.”
A few minutes later, the crowd quieted as the Master of Ceremonies took center stage, the sixteen contestants forming a line behind him as he read the results. Alternate: Jessica Deswberry, a singer, who shook the MC’s hand and joined him at center stage.
Connie nodded and said, “I thought she was pretty good.”
“Me too,” Evelyn said. I thought Jamie had a shot at winning that. Maybe not first place, but at least alternate.
“Third Finalist,” the MC read from the envelope, “Edgar Silverman.”
“He deserved it,” Connie said. “He was really good.”
Evelyn barely heard her. Her heart was tumbling a few more steps down the stairwell of disappointment. Only two more winners! Somebody’s going to lose…it may be Jamie. Please no. But how can I wish against Fred and Rollie?
The Master of Ceremonies read the name of the Second Finalist. “Rollie Wilkens.” Rollie grinned broadly as he stepped forward to join the other winners. Evelyn clapped enthusiastically with the rest of the audience. He definitely deserved it. I’m happy for him.
“And now,” the Master of Ceremonies said, “joining the other winners who will be representing our city in the regional competition in Atlanta, the First Finalist and overall winner….” — he paused for effect — “Grace Mary Callahan!”
The applause was thunderous as Fred walked across the stage to stand next to Rollie, her hands to her face, eyes wide with joy and surprise. Way to go, Fred. Evelyn stood and most of the rest of the audience did, too. The other contestants stepped forward to join the winners, and Jamie pushed next to Fred and took her hand. The clapping continued as Rollie took her other hand. The rest of the contestants, seeing them, must’ve thought it was part of the show, because they all joined hands, too. They bowed together as one, a long chain of talented kids, some smiling, some wearing masks of disappointment. The ballerina’s face was as tight as the bun on her head. Her mother turned to Evelyn and said over the din, “I’m sorry your grandson didn’t win.”
Evelyn shook her head. “I’m sorry your daughter didn’t, too. She’s very talented.”
“I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
Rachel leaned close to Evelyn and said, “Mom, don’t worry too much about Jamie. It’s what he wanted.”
But it’s not what I wanted.
When the applause finally faded and the house lights came on, Evelyn turned to Connie and said, “Wait for me by the doors. I’m going back stage to see if I can catch Jamie.”
She found him in the wings, kneeling on the floor, packing his magic trunk; a pet carrier with the rabbit inside was nearby. She clapped as she approached him and said, “Well done! You were magnificent.”
He stood and hugged her. “Thanks, Gramma. Everything worked out great, didn’t it?”
She disengaged from their embrace but took his hand. “I wanted you to win. I know you didn’t want to, but I did.”
“It’s fine. Fred and Rollie need the money more than I do, and it wouldn’t be right, anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because, if you think about it, most of my talent is from sheer luck because I was born with it. Fred and Rollie got all theirs from plain old hard work. They deserved to win.”
“You’ve worked hard, too.”
“Not like they have. And I wanted to use a little real magic tonight, and the oath wouldn’t have let me win because there’s prize money. I can’t make money off of my magic.”
“You probably could if you really tried.”
“I don’t think so. The oath has a power all its own. It would intervene, somehow, I’m sure.”
“Well, I still think you’re the best.” She kissed his cheek. “Have you seen Fred?”
“The last I saw, she was still posing for pictu
res with the other winners.”
“Oh well.” She let go of his hand. “Tell Fred and Rollie to stop by your house later. We’re having a little celebration.”
“I think Rollie’s got plans, but I’ll tell him.”
“I made brownies.”
“In that case, I’m sure he’ll come.”
* * *
She couldn’t feel him every night, but tonight she could. It was like playing a game of Marco Polo in a pool, swimming underwater with her eyes closed, feeling for Jamie’s current. Only Fred’s eyes were closed because she was sleeping.
I found him!
She opened her eyes in her dream and found she was sitting next to Jamie on the edge of the stage at the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium. The hall was deserted and they faced a sea of empty red seats. “Hey,” he said. “Long time no see.”
Fred laughed. “Maybe three whole hours. Did you miss me?”
“I hardly got to see you at all tonight. You were always surrounded by swarms of people.”
She patted her hair. “That’s what happens when you become famous.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
She put her arms around his neck and twisted her mouth into a half smile. “Jamie…thank you.”
One of his eyebrows drew down. “For what?”
“For letting me win.”
“I did not let you win.”
“Yes you did. You could’ve done some magic that would’ve blown everybody minds, but you didn’t. You held back so I could win.”
“I didn’t hold back. I tried.”
“Come on…the magic rings trick? My dad could probably do that. But I have to admit the rabbit bit was pretty funny.”
“I was afraid it would be too funny and I’d show up Rollie.”
“See? You did hold back.”
“Not really. I couldn’t be funnier than him no matter what.”
“No.” She patted his back. “But you did try to let me win. Admit it.”
“Fred, I don’t think anybody could’ve beaten you tonight. You were on fire.” He touched her shoulder with one finger and then shook it. “Sssst.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yeah. My dad said that the camera crew seemed to think so, too. He said they really honed in on you.”
“In that case, I’d better start practicing my signature for autographs.”
“And I can say I knew you when you were a nobody.”
“I’ll never admit it to that.” She rubbed his back. “I’m going to let you go back to your regular dreams now. Don’t forget you’re taking me and Melanie to the mall in the afternoon.”
“But we’re not telling her about the magic until we talk to our parents, right?”
“We’ll see.”
Chapter 13
Jamie walked down the church steps with Fred, but she wouldn’t hold his hand; her eyes were narrow and her mouth had a stubborn set. She’s not too happy with me right now, he knew. His parents, her parents, Gramma, Aunt Connie, and Uncle Ray were already waiting outside on the wide walkway.
“Where should we go to talk?” Carl said when Jamie and Fred joined them.
“Over here.” Jamie led them across the church lawn to a spot far enough away from anyone else to be overheard.
Larry smirked. “Hey Jamie, isn’t this the spot where Fred burned you up for setting the minister on fire?”
“Don’t remind me.” Fred looks like she wants to burn me up right now. He remembered years ago when he’d accidentally ignited the minister’s robe one Sunday with his magic. Fred lit in to him later, demanding that he keep his magic under control, while their families watched from afar.
They stopped on the grass and formed a tight circle. Gramma said, “So what’s this all about?”
Jamie took a deep breath and a quick glance at Fred before saying, “Fred wants to tell Melanie about our magic.”
“Why?” Lisa said.
Fred crossed her arms. “Because she’s gotten to be a really good friend now, and I think she should know, just in case I forget and say something I shouldn’t.”
“But she’s not family, Honey.”
“I know, but if she takes the oath, it won’t matter if she overhears anything, because the magic won’t let her tell anybody.”
Gramma looked doubtful. “Does that mean that all of us should get all of our friends to take the oath? That could end up being an awful lot of people.”
A little cloud of doubt crossed Fred’s face. “Well…we could just tell our closest friends.”
“That’s still a lot,” Rachel said. “Once we tell Sophie, that’ll be twelve family members.” She looked at Carl. “Have you decided if you want to tell your parents or not?”
He shook his head. “Maybe someday, but not now.”
Lisa put her hand on Fred’s arm. “Honey, let’s think about this.” Fred started to object, but Lisa continued, “We’re not saying no, just…not right now. Let’s not rush into it.”
“All right,” Fred said, but her expression said otherwise. As they walked to their cars, she looked at Jamie.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shot him an angry look and walked off with her parents.
He stared at her back and thought, Guess she’s not riding home with me.
* * *
Later, Jamie leaned against his car door and checked his watch. Maybe they’re not coming. Good. I hate going to the mall. A door slammed nearby, and he looked catty-cornered across the street to see Fred and Melanie hopping down Fred’s front steps. Here they come. Wonder if Fred’s still mad at me. She caught his eye and waved. Maybe not.
As he watched them approach, he couldn’t help thinking, This won’t be so bad. I’m going to the mall with the two prettiest girls in school…maybe in all of Hendersonville. When they both smiled at him at the same time, he recast his opinion. Maybe the prettiest anywhere.
They sure are different, though. Fred’s skin was fair; her thick red hair blazed in the sun, flowing behind her like a mane. Her emerald eyes could flash warnings of an approaching storm when she was angry, but now they sparkled like a trill on the topmost keys of a piano.
Melanie was a little shorter and slimmer, with tanned skin and long, straight, golden-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her brown eyes were as soft and warm as a deer’s. Her face was friendly when she smiled, with deep dimples that could charm honey from a bee.
Jamie had often seen boys at school stare at both of them when they walked by.
No, he realized, this won’t be bad at all.
The girls weren’t two steps onto his driveway before Fred stopped. “I forgot my phone.” She turned and said over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back!” and ran toward her house.
Jamie and Melanie were alone together for the first time since Bryce’s party, the night of the kiss. Hurry, Fred.
“Hey Jamie,” Melanie said, standing at the end of his car. “You were great last night at the show.”
He had to clear his throat and swallow before he could manage a weak, “Thanks.”
“I wanted you to win, too. I was pulling for Fred, but I thought you were really good.”
“I didn’t want to win.” His palms suddenly felt sweaty even though it was a cool autumn afternoon. “Fred and Rollie could use the money.” He cleared his throat again. “For college. They’re not poor or anything.” That sounded dumb.
“That’s nice.” She looked around Jamie’s yard, then brushed the fingertips of one hand lightly across the trunk of the car. “I never got a chance to apologize about the party. About kissing you and everything.”
“That’s okay, it’s no —”
“No, I want you to know that I’m not usually like that.” She looked at her hand on the car for a moment. “Well, actually I’m never like that. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”
“Forget about it.” He poked a front tire with the toe of his sneaker. “In fact, if you hadn’t kissed me,
I might not’ve ever gotten around to telling Fred I loved her.”
“Yes you would’ve. It was inevitable, to hear Fred tell it.”
He gave a nervous laugh and looked across the street to see Fred skipping down her steps again, phone in hand. “Yeah. Probably.”
* * *
It was nearly sundown by the time Jamie dropped Fred and Melanie off at Fred’s house.
“Do you want to come in for a little bit?” Fred asked as they walked up her driveway and Jamie drove off.
Melanie shook her head. “My mom’s on her way. Let’s wait on your stoop ’till she gets here.”
The two girls sat on the brick steps and dropped their shopping bags beside them. Fred said, “That was fun. We should do it again sometime.”
“Jamie seemed to loosen up after he figured out I wasn’t going to bite him,” Melanie said.
“Or kiss him.”
Melanie laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever hung out with him. You two are a lot of fun together. You’re an interesting couple.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well….” Melanie’s face grew thoughtful. “I know you’ve only been dating a few weeks, but you seem like you’ve been together for a long time. Almost like a married couple or something.”
“We’ve been best friends since we were little. I know him better than anybody, even Rollie.”
“No, I mean you fuss, kinda, like…I dunno.”
“You mean I’m bossy, and Jamie doesn’t like it.”
“I didn’t mean that, but…like when you tried to get Jamie to buy that pair of pants, and he didn’t want them, but you pushed him pretty hard to anyway.” She gave a quick nod. “But he didn’t buy them. He’s no pushover, is he?”
