He Who Dreams

by Melanie Florence

  I took a deep breath and walked into the center of the floor. She hit Play and the room filled with the sound of drumbeats. And just like that, I was home.

  Without the specter of Matt and the rest of the guys at the Cultural Center standing around and watching, I danced. No one laughed at me as I spun and bobbed my head in time to the drums. No Lindy hop this time. I raised one arm in the air and lowered my other shoulder, then danced around in a circle on one foot, then switched arms and changed directions. I dropped down to one knee, then leaped back up. I dropped to the other knee and rose again. I imagined myself in elaborate regalia and crossed my arms back and forth in front of myself as if I were holding whip sticks and spun and spun and spun.

  For the first time since I’d started the classes in the city, I felt joy again as I danced. These girls wouldn’t care if I missed a step or lost my balance. If I was awkward, I wouldn’t be judged here. It was a huge relief to just breathe and dance. I listened to the music and pulled one knee up high, spinning on one foot one way, then the other, until I heard the last honor beats—the loud beats interspersed throughout the song that signal dancers to honor the drum. I came to a stop on the last drumbeat with my legs spread, knees bent and my arms up in the air.

  I had literally never managed to stop on the last beat before! Santee and the girls applauded madly.

  “Great job, John!” Santee called out, beaming at me. “Looks like the classes with the boys have been good for you!”

  “Yeah,” I said, breathing hard.

  I didn’t know how to begin telling her what the classes in the city had really been like, but I finally got my chance when the girls were filing out after class.

  “That was an amazing performance today, John,” Santee told me, gathering up her things and getting ready to leave.

  “Yeah. About that,” I began. She looked at me, eyebrows raised. “I thought maybe I could come back and dance with you guys again.”

  “Why?” Santee asked. “You’re obviously doing great with Sam and his group.”

  “Umm…I just…I don’t think I’m fitting in there.” I didn’t meet her eyes as I said this.

  “Did something happen with one of the boys?” she asked.

  I sighed deeply. “Not one of them, no.”

  “So then, what is it?”

  “It’s all of them! They treat me like I have no right to be there. They call me ‘that white kid’ and I’m a total klutz in front of them!”

  “Wow.” Santee let out a deep breath. “What did Sam say?”

  “He doesn’t know,” I admitted. “They don’t do it when he’s there. I keep trying to tell them who I am…who my mother is…but they don’t give me the chance. They assume because I don’t look like them that I’m an outsider. I can’t dance with them,” I finished, finally looking at her.

  Her face looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be making you feel that way. You’re welcome to come and dance with us, John. But even in the short time you’ve been with Sam, you’ve come so far with your dancing. Just by watching them.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. They’re really good. I’ve been trying some of their moves and changing others a bit to make them my own, you know?”

  Santee looked thoughtfully at me before answering. “You can’t get that with us. So you have to decide what you want to do. You can dance with us and stay at the same level. Or you can watch boys who have been dancing since they were kids and really learn something. What is it you want out of this?” she asked.

  I thought for a moment. “I’d really like to be in the Grand Entry, like you and the girls were. And I think maybe…maybe I’d like to try to compete someday.”

  “Then what do you need to do?”

  “I need to go back to Sam’s group,” I admitted.

  Santee hugged me. “Come on,” she said, sliding an arm through mine. “I’ll walk you to your car. And for the record, there’s a Pow Wow coming up in about a month, if you think you’ll be ready for the Grand Entry.”

  As I got into my car, I felt better than I had in a while. I hadn’t solved my problem with the guys at the Cultural Center, but Santee had pointed out how far I had come just by watching them and learning from them.

  I turned to put my backpack on the passenger seat and looked at the gym bag I had left there. I felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over me.

  I had completely forgotten about soccer practice.

  Sixteen

  I was still feeling good about the decision I had made to go back to the Cultural Center and stand up for myself when I arrived at school the next morning. Confronting Matt might not immediately solve all my problems with him, but it was a start.

  I was mentally going over my math homework when someone shoved me into a locker.

  “Hey!” I turned and stared into the angry faces of several of my teammates, led by Tanner. “Oh,” I said. Frankly, I knew they had every reason to be upset with me.

  “Yeah. Oh.” Tanner crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. “Where the hell were you yesterday, McCaffrey?” he asked.

  “I…uh…had a medical appointment,” I answered lamely.

  “Right. Well, while you were off playing doctor the rest of us were working our asses off.” My teammates laughed, and I tried to join in and show I was a good sport. Tanner glared down at me. “Listen, McCaffrey, we don’t need you anymore. The team is doing just fine without you.”

  “Lay off, Tanner,” Aiden called out, walking up beside me.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re really going to stand up for this loser?”

  Aiden nodded. “Yeah, I am. He’s still part of our team.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, tell your girlfriend that he better start acting like it.” Tanner turned and stalked off down the hallway, closely followed by the other soccer players.

  I turned to Aiden.

  “Thanks,” I said, nodding at my friend.

  “Don’t mention it,” Aiden replied. “Just…don’t make me do it again, John. Get back in the game.”

  I nodded my thanks, but I wasn’t entirely sure if I could do that. I finally knew where my heart was leading me. And it wasn’t onto the soccer field. Or to Santee’s class.

  Seventeen

  I had agreed to meet Santee again after school. It wasn’t a regular class day, but she said she’d have a surprise waiting for me. I didn’t know what to expect, so I was a little nervous when I dropped Jen off at her art class and made my way through the community center to the gymnasium. It was quieter than usual in the hallway without the echo of the drumbeats and the pounding of feet keeping time.

  I opened the gym door and walked in, glancing across the room. Santee was standing in the middle of the floor, smoothing the feathers of the most incredible regalia I had ever seen. I stopped dead and stared, my mouth falling open. Was that for me?

  It was blue and orange. It was beaded and feathered, with moccasins, a headband and cuffs. The shirt and pants and apron were elaborately embroidered and beaded. Every single piece was breathtaking, but the two feather bustles, one to be worn around my neck and one around my waist, with matching bustles for my arms… I could already picture them moving in time to the music. It was an outfit that had to be seen to be believed.

  “Is that really for me?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of it.

  Santee laughed. “You bet it is. Want to try it on?”

  I was almost afraid to touch it. It looked fierce and delicate at the same time. But I was dying to put it on, and I was even more eager to dance in it. I remembered how the dancers at the Pow Wow looked all dressed up. I thought about Sam in his regalia. They looked like warriors. And I wanted more than anything to be one of them.

  “I do…but I’m not sure I know how to get into it,” I confessed sheepishly.

  “Just get the pants and shirt on, and I’ll help with the rest,” Santee said.

  That much was easy. I changed quickly behind the curtain onstage and stepped o
ut. It fit like a glove so far. I sat on the edge of the stage and pulled the moccasins on.

  “How did you know what size I wear?” I asked her.

  “Taylor checked your clothes tags for me.” She winked. “Jump down so I can get all of this on you.”

  I dropped to the floor and walked over to her. I already felt different. Stronger. I stood tall as she helped me tie on fur anklets and bells. She showed me how to put on the front and back aprons and the beaded side tabs. She dressed me in my belt and cape and tied a harness around my neck, my arms spread out to the side.

  My favorite part was the roach. It was a stunning headdress and, according to Santee, was made of deer hair and porcupine guard hair. It was set on something called a rocker, which would do exactly what its name implied. It would make the headdress rock and dance when I moved my head. Santee got the roach ready but put it aside so she could get the bustles on me.

  The bustles were circles of feathers. One went on my back and one around my waist. There were two smaller ones for my arms. Once Santee had those in place, she tied on an intricately beaded headband, followed by my roach. She handed me two whip sticks that I gave a practice twirl to, just to see them dance.

  Santee stood back and looked me up and down, an expression I took to be pride spreading over her face.

  “Perfect. I brought a mirror.” She gestured to where she had a full-length mirror leaning against the wall. “Take a look.”

  As I walked toward the mirror, bells jingled lightly and feathers shook around me. I looked at the mirror as I got closer and saw the reflection of a man, a dancer and a warrior walking forward.

  “That’s not me,” I said.

  Santee walked up behind me and straightened the cuff on my arm. “Yes, it is. You look incredible.”

  “I thought it would feel heavy and weigh me down. But it’s light. I feel like…I feel like I can fly,” I told her, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

  Santee started the music and sat down against the wall. “Show me,” she told me.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and then started to dance. Somehow, with my new regalia on, I could twirl faster, jump higher and hear the music in ways I never had before. I didn’t just fly—I soared. Without giving it a thought, I did a move I had only seen on a TV movie about kids who did capoeira. I jumped down sideways like I was going to do a cartwheel but threw my feet up and held all my weight on one hand for a moment. Santee burst into applause, but I kept dancing. I balanced on one foot, my other knee high in front of me, and spun around and around. First one way on my right foot, then the other way on my left. I tapped my feet and shook my shoulders, making the feathers wave madly around me. I knew this music, so I knew when to stop suddenly, ending the dance with the last drumbeat. I stood still, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

  Santee was on her feet, cheering wildly. She ran across the room and threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “That was brilliant!” she told me. “How did you feel?”

  “Like a warrior,” I replied.

  Santee led me to a chair and handed me a bottle of water, which I gulped gratefully. She started going over her notes and I listened, nodding or adding my own thoughts here and there. I saw the curtain onstage rustle out of the corner of my eye, but I chose to ignore it, figuring someone must have opened the door to the hall for some reason, and continued my conversation with Santee.

  It was a decision I was about to regret.

  Eighteen

  I knew something was up as soon as I walked into the school the next day. There was a buzz in the air. I wondered what everyone was talking about as I started walking to my locker. I saw a group of senior girls looking down at a phone and giggling. I passed a couple of juniors who looked up from another phone and stared at me. The farther down the hall I got, the more people seemed to be looking at me and laughing or whispering together. At first I ignored it… but the closer I got to my locker, the clearer it became that everyone was talking about me. I tried to ignore the whispers and laughter, but the fact that people were openly staring at me was a little harder to ignore.

  “John?” Aiden had walked up behind me.

  “Hey,” I said, relieved to see a friendly face.

  Aiden didn’t smile back. “You need to see something,” he told me.

  “What?” I asked, my heart pounding. This couldn’t be good.

  Aiden handed me his iPhone without a word. I took it and glanced down at the screen. Oh no.

  Aiden had already hit Play, and I saw a video of myself dancing around the gymnasium in my regalia, with a huge grin on my face. I heard a loud bray of laughter across the hall and looked up to see a group of kids glancing back and forth between their phones and me. I felt the heat creeping up the back of my neck as my face slowly colored.

  I pushed the phone back at Aiden. “Where did you get this?” I asked, my voice low.

  “It got sent to the whole soccer team.”

  “By who?” I asked, even though I already had a pretty good idea who had done this.

  Aiden paused. “Tanner,” he said.

  “And now everyone’s seen it?” I asked.

  Aiden nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much. It’s been forwarded a lot. And it’s on YouTube.”

  I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths, willing myself to calm down.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Aiden’s voice brought me back. “We’ve been friends since second grade. You could have told me why you’ve been missing soccer.”

  I looked at him, surprised. “I didn’t tell anyone, Aiden. Look how they’re all laughing at me!” I gestured around the hall.

  “Yeah, well…I wouldn’t have laughed,” Aiden said.

  “Okay. I’m sorry, all right? I am.”

  Aiden nodded.

  “Now, where the hell is Tanner?” I asked, looking down the hall toward the locker room.

  Nineteen

  I shoved the locker-room door open and stalked past rows of lockers, Aiden following close behind, until I found Tanner. He was lying on his back on a bench with a couple of our teammates sprawled out around him. I came to a dead stop and watched everyone turn to look at me. They all looked away guiltily. My so-called friends.

  Tanner was the only one who met my eyes. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at me with a smirk spreading slowly across his face. “Well, hello, princess.”

  Before I had a chance to think it through, I stepped forward and grabbed one end of the bench that Tanner was lying on and wrenched it high off the floor, sending him sliding hard off the other end.

  He landed in a tangled pile of limbs on the floor and looked up at me in complete shock. “What the hell do you think—”

  “Shut up! Why, Tanner? Why would you spy on me? And why would you send that video to everyone on the team? You knew it would get shared and posted and tagged. How could you do that to me? I thought we were friends.” I was standing over him.

  Tanner looked up at me. “Hey, it was just a joke.”

  “A joke? That was private!”

  “Yeah,” Tanner said. “I can see why. Lighten up, McCaffrey. No one cares if you want to prance around in a dress in your free time.”

  Before I could react, Tanner dove forward and grabbed me around the waist, bringing me down with him. The other boys ran out of the room, shouting for the coach as I threw a punch that caught Tanner in the right eye. Aiden ran forward and tried to pull us apart, yelling for us to stop as Tanner punched me in the mouth. I ducked to avoid being hit again as the coach ran into the locker room, followed by the rest of the boys. He grabbed Tanner while Aiden pulled me off him.

  “Enough!” the coach roared. “What is going on here?”

  I spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor and wiped my swollen lip, glaring at Tanner. Tanner stared back at me through his one good eye, the other already swollen completely shut and turning purple.

  “You’re both done for the day. Go home. Clean up. I don’t want either of you on my field toda
y.” The coach turned to leave, then walked back to us, the anger gone from his face. “And McCaffrey? Figure out where your loyalties lie, okay? You’re letting your teammates down. If you can’t be there for them, you need to walk away.”

  I nodded, touching my swollen lip.

  “Go home and put some ice on that. You too, Tanner.” The coach left the now dead-silent locker room.

  “You okay?” Aiden asked me.

  “Yeah. You better get to class,” I told him, walking to the door.

  I had no idea how I was going to explain this to my parents.

  Twenty

  My parents stared at me as I held an ice pack to my mouth while it throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

  “So why did this boy hit you?” my mother asked, looking perplexed.

  I shrugged. “I haven’t been pulling my weight with the team. I missed a couple of practices because I was dancing. I guess I just pushed him too far. I got mad, and a couple of punches were thrown. It was nothing. Just guy stuff.”

  “But why didn’t the principal call us if you got sent home?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t know about it. Coach sent us both home to cool off. Everything is fine. I’m not even in trouble.”

  My mother clucked around me and refilled my ice pack while my father looked at me thoughtfully. Mom announced that she was going to make a poultice to help with the swelling and bruising, then went out to her garden. As soon as we were alone, my father leaned in to talk to me. Man to man.

  “It’s not like you to fight, son,” he said quietly. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

  I shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Tanner took a video of me dancing and sent it to the entire soccer team. He spied on me, and now it’s up on YouTube.”

  “Ah. And everyone knows about the dancing now,” he said, his face sympathetic.

  “Yeah. The video got sent around to the entire school.”

  “Okay. So the secret’s out.”

  “Yeah. It is,” I said, probing my swollen lip with the tip of my tongue.