Revolutions of the Heart
Page 14
And more, of course. Cory caressed the smooth, pale skin of her once-broken arm. She had also learned something about change, something about revolutions of the heart.
Between songs and dances the chair next to hers emptied and Mac appeared and sat down. “I’m sorry I deserted you.”
“Forgiven.”
“Having a good time?”
“It just got better.”
Mac waved to someone, then grasped Cory’s hand and held it. Another drum began its song, and Cory leaned over to Mac and spoke directly in his ear. “Do the Cree believe you can communicate with the dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out when you’re there.”
“Where?”
“Canada. Go for it, Mac. You’ll have a great time. I wish I had someplace where…”
He didn’t urge her to finish the thought, but instead put his arm around her and pulled their chairs closer, and together they enjoyed the spectacle of music, dance, and color.
*
Sasha spent two hundred dollars on jewelry. All the way back to Summer she admired her purchases and described the beautiful things she hadn’t bought. She attempted to clasp a silver necklace on Tony, but he gently pushed her away.
“Never,” he said. “No jewelry.”
“Sasha,” said Mac in an accusing tone, “did you watch any of the powwow?”
“I certainly did. It was wonderful. Can’t wait to go again.”
Tony dropped her purchases one by one back into the bag. “You can’t afford to go again.”
The rain had ceased, the sky had cleared, and the moon was high overhead by the time Cory and Mac were parked alone in his driveway. Cory yawned and slumped in her seat. “I’m supposed to help Rob and his crew lay sod tomorrow. Five bucks an hour.”
“Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”
She obeyed. Something scraped against her palm as he dropped a light object into her hand. She looked. She was holding two silver web earrings.
“Remember when I met you?”
She traced the thin silver circle with her thumb. “I remember, Harvey MacNamara. I remember.”
“Happy prom night, Cory K.”
*
Another night ride through a maze of black highway and dark forest. Cory knew the route by heart, but as the road split open the wall of trees that disguised the familiar scenery, it was possible to imagine she was going someplace new, someplace unimagined.
The highway curved around a pond, and moonlight reflecting off the water half lit a solitary birch. Wind moved a pale branch. Cory saw the motion and her breath paused in her throat. It had seemed for that instant to be a ghost signaling, waving her down.
Cory pulled the car over. She looked across the water and identified the tree, an ordinary birch. “No ghosts,” she said loudly. “No more ghosts tonight.” The stillness in the car weighed heavily. Cory reached and turned on the radio. It scanned until it found a clear-channel, far-away station. An announcer finished the Dallas weather report. “Ten-thirty,” he said in a musty drawl. “Now here’s a number to make you move.” The song started and Cory’s thumbs automatically beat out the rhythm on the steering wheel.
“Ten-thirty,” she groaned. “I don’t believe it—it’s ten-thirty on prom night, and I’m headed to bed.” She eased the car back onto the road. “No way.”
A push on the accelerator, a crank of the wheel, and she reversed directions and sped back toward town. It didn’t matter what Sash and Tony were doing. They would stop. It didn’t matter if she woke Barb and Jeff and had to drag Mac out of bed. The night was not over. They’d go back to the cafe, load the juke with quarters, make some noise. It was prom night, it was spring, and Cory wanted to be dancing.