by James Morcan
Helen was immediately suspicious. “How did you know I live here?”
Nine was speechless. He realized he’d slipped up badly. He’d been so busy mentally rehearsing his next line he’d momentarily forgotten he wasn’t meant to know her or where she lived. Flustered, he stammered, “Ah…I didn’t. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
“Oh.” Helen seemed to accept that. “Well, now you know this is my house.” She smiled at him for the first time.
Nine felt himself melting before her smile. He hurriedly regained his composure and looked at the humble abode as if seeing it for the first time. As he did, Helen observed the strange green-eyed boy who had come to her aid.
“Where do you go to school?” she asked.
“I uh, I don’t.” Nine thought quickly as he handed his armful of textbooks back to her. “I’m homeschooled.”
“Oh, lucky you.”
Again, there was an awkward silence. Nine knew he should leave, but he didn’t want to go without arranging to see her again.
I gotta stall for time until I think of something.
He glanced absentmindedly at one of the textbooks she held and noticed the title Salsa Dancing. “You dance salsa?”
“Yes, I love it. I am learning.” Helen smiled. “Why, can you dance Salsa?”
Nine found himself nodding. “Yeah,” he lied. He hated lying to her, but thought one little white lie could lead to something.
“Well, my next class is tomorrow afternoon at the dance studio opposite the Santa Monica Pier. Come along if you’re free.”
Bingo!
“Sure, I’ll be there. What’s your name by the way?”
“Helen.”
“Hi, Helen. I’m Luke. I look forward to dancing with you tomorrow night. It’ll be fun.” Nine realized he’d developed a sudden case of verbal diarrhea.
Shut up. Don’t say another word, you fool.
Helen studied him with a faint air of amusement in her sparkling eyes. “Anyway, thank you for helping me, Luke.” She was clearly signaling it was time for him to go. “You are the perfect gentleman.”
Nine smiled to hide his embarrassment. Unsure what else to say, he just watched her as she walked up to her front door and disappeared inside. He caught a glimpse of her black and white kitten before she shut the door behind her.
As he walked off in the direction of his apartment in Venice, Nine was delighted. His first meeting with Helen had gone better than he’d dared hope. He was almost tempted to hold his hands up, Rocky-like, in triumph. After all, he had scored a date with the goddess.
Now all he had to do was master Salsa dancing over the next twenty four hours.
Damn you, Tommy. Of all the stupid things you taught me, you never showed me how to dance.
39
You could hear a pin drop on the near-deserted first floor of the Santa Monica Public Library on Sixth Street. That suited Nine just fine. He was a picture of concentration as he devoured how-to books on Salsa dancing.
Since he’d lied about his Salsa dancing prowess to Helen the previous afternoon, he had been in panic mode, trying to master the technically demanding dance before he accompanied her to dance classes that afternoon. He’d spent much of the previous night questioning Ace about the Salsa after the Native American claimed to be something of an expert. To Nine’s chagrin, it turned out that Ace knew a lot more about rain dancing than he did about Salsa.
The orphan looked up at the clock on the facing wall. It was already past midday and he was fast running out of time to pull off the lie. Salsa dancing instruction books lay spread out on the table before him. He’d been speed-reading them since the library opened three hours earlier, yet still he didn’t feel remotely confident. It was finally dawning on him all the diagrams and instructions in the world were no substitute for practice. He likened it to trying to learn Teleiotes, the deadly martial art he’d mastered, simply by reading about it.
His thoughts turned to two Latin dancers – a young man and woman – he’d seen busking on Third Street Promenade the previous day. He idly wondered if they would still be there today.
Laughter announced the arrival of a business executive-type and his younger female companion, shattering the silence and interrupting the orphan’s concentration. The new arrivals only had eyes for each other and seemed out of place in a public library. They chatted inanely and seemed to laugh at everything their partner said. The girl looked young enough to be the business suit’s daughter, but the way he ogled her exposed and generous cleavage signaled they were not related other than by lust.
Annoyed, Nine took the interruption as a sign he should depart. He figured he’d learned all he could about the Salsa without actually doing it anyway.
Before departing, he saw an opportunity.
The businessman removed his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair at an adjoining table. He then escorted his young companion into an aisle nearby.
Nine wandered toward the exit door, deviating only slightly to pass close to the man’s jacket. His next action was so quick it would probably have been missed even if someone had been watching. In one second, the man’s bulging wallet had been transferred from the inside top pocket of his jacket to a side pocket of Nine’s new baggy jeans. The orphan continued walking without missing a beat.
Outside the library, Nine was pleasantly surprised to discover the wallet contained almost a thousand dollars in cash as well as credit and debit cards.
After purchasing a Stetson hat and sunglasses from a corner store, he stopped at the first ATM he came across.
The orphan, who was well disguised in the hat and glasses he now wore, successfully determined the PIN numbers for three of the four cards and was once more flush for funds.
#
On Third Street Promenade, not far from where the big cop had tried to fine him for jaywalking the previous day, Nine looked around to make sure the same cop wasn’t in the vicinity. There was no sign of him, but the Latin dancing pair were back busking in the same place the orphan had noticed them yesterday. He headed straight for them.
The dancers were both young and attractive. She was a petite, curvy gal wearing high heels and a sexy dress; he was tall and handsome with satin pants and a ruffled tuxedo over his bare chest. They were performing a Rumba. So eye-catching was their performance quite a crowd had gathered around them, and their donation bucket was rapidly filling.
Nine joined the onlookers and watched, entranced, as the pair went through their paces. As soon as the dancers completed their routine, the crowd quickly dissipated, leaving the orphan alone with the pair. He approached them tentatively. “Can you teach me the Salsa?”
The pair looked at him, bemused. The lady started to shake her head as if to say no.
Nine continued undeterred. “Two hundred and fifty bucks for an hour lesson.” He opened his wallet and displayed the wad of notes it contained.
The Latina suddenly looked interested. She studied the wad of notes longingly.
“Yes or no?” Nine asked.
“Yes,” the young woman said. She was now smiling. “Whereabouts?”
Nine thought quickly. He didn’t want to attract undue attention by making a spectacle of himself in public. The big cop he’d crossed earlier was still fresh in his mind. Nothing came to him. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I know a place,” the Latina said. “Follow me.”
She said something to her partner then led Nine to a nearby alley that ran between two blocks of upmarket apartments. They ended up in a private courtyard behind one of the apartment blocks. The orphan was relieved no-one else was around.
“Okay,” the young lady said, “let’s see how good a dancer you are.” She grabbed Nine and twirled him around the concrete courtyard that now doubled as a makeshift dance floor.
It took less than a minute for the Latina to learn her customer had never danced a step before. For the next hour she drilled him in the art of Salsa dancing. Nine proved a quick l
earner. When the session ended, he at least had the basic skills. Enough to wing it, he hoped.
#
Later that afternoon, a nervous Nine arrived outside the dance hall opposite Santa Monica Pier. He couldn’t decide what he was more nervous about – seeing Helen again or making a fool of himself on the dance floor. Now dressed in a casual but stylish outfit befitting a dancer, or would-be dancer at least, he was also feeling decidedly self-conscious. He’d purchased the new clothes using some of the cash he’d acquired earlier.
The dance class had already started and distinctively Latin music flowed from the hall’s open windows. Nine had purposefully arrived late so he could observe Helen and the other dance students before joining in.
Now, looking through the door’s glass panel, he could see around two dozen mostly female dancers being put through their Salsa routines by a flamboyant, effeminate-looking male dancing instructor. They all danced in pairs.
The orphan spotted Helen. For him, the other dancers ceased to exist from that moment. The Greek beauty filled his entire vision. Nine admired her slender figure, which was accentuated by her tight-fitting dance costume. He psyched himself up to enter the hall.
“Now you try!” the flamboyant instructor shouted to his students above the music.
Nine delayed his entry for a moment. He was alarmed to see the students were no longer dancing in pairs: they’d separated and were dancing without a partner.
Everything he’d learnt about Salsa in the past twenty four hours had indicated it was a dance requiring a partner. He wasn’t to know the instructor was guiding them through Salsa Suelta, a rare line dance version of the Salsa performed alone.
Nine freaked out. The thought of dancing alone, with everyone staring at him, horrified him. He retreated back out onto the sidewalk.
“Luke!” a girl’s voice called out.
The orphan looked back to see Helen at the door. She had noticed his presence and broken away from the class to greet him.
“You came,” she said.
“Yes,” he said lamely. Nine couldn’t be sure if she was pleased to see him or not. Then she smiled, and he was sure. He felt his heart jump.
Helen’s dark, mesmerizing eyes sparkled. “Better late than never.”
As before, Nine felt he was under a hypnotic spell in her presence. The tongue-tied boy could only smile back at her.
“Let’s dance.” Helen grabbed his hand and led him into the hall.
Fortunately for Nine, the class had moved on to another version of Salsa. This was a round dance style known as Rueda de Casino, requiring multiple couples to exchange partners in a circle. Nine and Helen were one of four male-female couples who participated alongside the females who had paired up.
Although the Rueda de Casino required Nine to regularly swap partners, which he found disconcerting and annoying, it at least vaguely resembled what the Latina had taught him earlier. He managed to bluff his way through and avoid falling over at least.
Swapping partners, he ended up back with Helen.
The instructor, who was doing his own little dance in time to the music, kept his eye on Nine and Helen. He couldn’t help thinking what a fine pair they made. “Keeping your same partners,” he shouted, “go through your routines boys and girls, go through your routines.”
That instruction was music to Nine’s ears. The orphan really was in Helen’s hands now. He hadn’t a clue what was expected of him. Fortunately, Helen knew the routines the instructor referred to and she proved a good teacher. Nine began to relax a little as they moved around the dance floor.
Helen looked into her partner’s startling green eyes and wondered who he really was. He was different to the other boys she had met since migrating to America. Very shy around girls – or around her at least – yet very confident in other ways. There was something unusual about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
40
After the Salsa class was over, Nine walked Helen home. A fiery sunset was turning the sky blood red. However, that was the only thing that was remotely romantic. The route the pair followed was busy. Buses, cars and trucks roared by, their drivers keen to get home or to their next destination.
The traffic noise spoiled any attempt at conversation, which was just as well as conversation between the young couple was not flowing.
Nine realized things were a little strained between them. He suspected he knew what the problem was. Social interactions in his life had been limited to his fellow orphans whom he really looked on as his siblings; outside the Pedemont Orphanage, his experience with the opposite sex was practically zilch, so this was a whole new experience for him.
The fugitive orphan glanced at the stunning Greek girl next to him and attempted to rationalize his feelings. This girl’s so beautiful she’d make any boy nervous. Anxious to break the silence between them, he said the first thing that came into his head. “Where did you live before you moved here?” He had to shout to make himself heard above the traffic noise.
“Chicago,” Helen shouted back.
“Oh, okay. I’ve never been to Chicago.” Nine was lying so seamlessly he thought even Kentbridge would be proud of him. “What’s it like?”
They entered a side street and the traffic noise faded, making conversation easier.
“The city overall is nice, but I lived in a bleak neighborhood there, so that wasn’t much fun.”
Nine nodded understandingly as memories of Riverdale’s rundown and somewhat dangerous streets flashed through his mind.
“What about you?” Helen asked. “Where are you from?”
“How do you know I’m not from around here?”
“The way you dress. The way you talk. You’re totally different to any of the Californian boys I’ve met.”
Nine wished she would just keep talking. It didn’t matter what she said, he just loved her soft and sexy Greek accent and the way she smiled as she spoke to him. He also could sense a warmth behind her eyes.
Damn, I really need this girl to be mine.
The conversation lapsed again, and Nine realized she was waiting for him to elaborate. “Well, you’re right, Helen. I just moved here.”
“Where from?”
Nine thought quickly. He’d done a good job of ad-libbing thus far, but staring into Helen’s big, dark Mediterranean eyes and breathing in her intoxicating scent was slowly turning his mind to mush. “Milwaukee,” he blurted out. It was the first city that came to mind – probably because that’s where his favorite television show Happy Days was set. “Milwaukee, Wisconsin,” he repeated to drive home the lie.
“You like it here in California?
“Yeah, I only got here this week. But yeah, it’s got so much verve this state.”
“So much what?”
“Verve. Vitality and energy. It’s a lively state is what I mean. Far more lively than Wisconsin, that’s for sure.”
Helen suddenly giggled. Unsure what he’d said that was funny, Nine looked at her enquiringly.
“You talk like you’re an adult already, you know that?”
The orphan wasn’t sure what to make of that. It actually hurt him a little. He didn’t want her to think he was any different to other boys his age. On the contrary, he desperately wanted to fit in and be normal – like she was.
Helen reached out and touched his arm tenderly. “I meant that as a compliment, Luke. You’re not like the other boys. You seem more of a thinker.” She smiled again, revealing her uneven, but still attractive, teeth.
A relieved Nine smiled back. Studying her full lips as she spoke, he willed her to keep talking. He felt stirrings he’d never experienced before – and he was very tempted to act on those feelings.
As if reading his mind, Helen suddenly kissed him. It was more of a quick peck on the lips really, but it still felt amazing to the young recipient. Nine was momentarily shocked. It was his first kiss. It was also totally unexpected. He hadn’t expected her to make the first move.
&nb
sp; What the orphan didn’t understand was the attraction wasn’t one-sided. Helen was just as attracted to him as he was to her. In fact, from the first time they’d met, she decided she’d never seen such a good-looking boy. With his bright green eyes, tall athletic frame and dark, wavy hair, she found him irresistible, and his demeanor was so mature and well-mannered he seemed years older than he actually was. Like a young man. It thrilled her inside, and she loved the feeling.
Despite that, she regretted coming onto him this early in their relationship. Being slightly old fashioned, and coming from a strict upbringing, she had never been so forward with any boy before. However, she could see by the giant grin Nine now wore that he certainly had no such misgivings.
Nine glanced over his shoulder – something he’d been doing a lot since fleeing the orphanage – and spotted Helen’s father following them. Mister Katsarakis was heading home with briefcase in hand. And judging by the grim expression on his face, he wasn’t too happy to find his daughter keeping company with a boy he’d never seen before let alone met.
“Isn’t that--” Nine stopped himself before he put his foot in it.
Helen looked around and immediately saw her father approaching. She was so flustered she didn’t give Nine’s near-faux pas a second thought. “My father is coming. He doesn’t like me talking to boys, so you’d better go.”
“Wait, when can I see you again?”
“My next dance class is the day after tomorrow.”
“Okay, see you then.” Nine hurried off in the opposite direction to Mister Katsarakis.
The day after tomorrow? How on earth can I wait that long.
When he reached the end of the street, he looked back to see Helen and her father in deep discussion. He could only imagine what they were talking about.
41
Chess players of all ages and backgrounds squared off against each other in an area known as Chess Park, on Santa Monica Beach. Some were semi-professional – or liked to think they were – and advertised challenges where all monies wagered went to the winner.
