FROZEN

November 3, 1966

After Thanksgiving Day, I was so burned-out from the celebration on my grandparents’ house. The 22 pound turkey was done roasting. We the grandchildren have the privilege on polishing the pans, mashing the turnips and potatoes. Making cookies out of extra homemade pie crust. I assure you that Grandma’s pie was made of rhubarb from her garden and had the flakiest crust. She would never use a box crust mix or canned fruits. Her recipe was quite exotic, in a nice way. The celebration ended in with a gigantic toast of wine.

We have to travel 1,316 kilometers from South Port, North Carolina to return home. It took a day and a half in continues travel just to reach New York City. We arrive at our apartment in 71 Broadway, Manhattan exhausted. We didn’t care about the mess we left behind since we went to a thanksgiving vacation. Since we arrived we’ve been slouching all day.

“DOM!” a high-pitched voice exploded behind my bedroom door. “We’re late, Today’s the opening show! I’m going to bulldoze this door if you’re not sending your ass here in five, four, three, two times up Dominic. I’m going in!”

She bulldozed the door with only one foot. A girl stands with long silky straight hair, hands on her hips and with a very grim expression. “Woke up on the wrong side of bed, Karen?” I asked her.

“We’re late dumbass, Mr. Albino will get mad at us!” she replied

“He? Getting angry at the stars of his show?” I butted with pride

“FYI, it’s not a big show. It’s not a dance show after all. It’s a painting show”

“But were performing, it does make it a big show”

                Karen grabbed an empty backpack and stuffed all my costumes. “Take a shower, will you? You don’t want to smell stinky on stage!”. I took only five minutes to wash my skinny porcelain body. I manage to snatch a sleeveless gray shirt, a pair of jeans and a red Converse.  Before we left the apartment I took a small sip of hot chocolate to fill my empty stomach. “Only a sip? Could that give you a sufficient energy to perform?” Karen commented. “I’ll grab a waffle before performing so don’t worry!” I replied. Karen called a yellow cab, “Solomon Guggenheim Museum” she gave the address. “As fast as possible, Mr. Driver” I asked nicely. In a matter of 15 minutes, we reached the location of our show. “Right on time” Karen said

                The people in front of the museum are flooding to take a peek of the exhibit. How great is this artist? I thought. As for ourselves we have to push ourselves just to enter the museum. Before the guard could stop us, Karen showed him our identification card that says “DANCER”. The guard didn’t argue and he let us carry on.  

                Mr. Albino, our dance instructor was rounding up all the dancers “Why are the two of you not in costume yet?” he appointed us. “Get your asses in those costumes, NOW!”. We didn’t was time and we changed our clothes into shiny, shimmering costumes, enveloped with crystals. “So much for waffle before the performance” I mumbled. After a little fix of make-up, we headed on the big stage and started the performance. We dance some Jive, Cha Cha, and a whole lot of more. As a closing performance we danced a very hot number and all eyes were very sticky towards us.

                After the performance, I grabbed some butter cookies and didn’t hesitate to stuff them in my mouth. I explored the whole exhibit and I saw some wonderful, priceless piece of art. I saw a lady in a yellow dress holding a bouquet of white flowers with a rabbit in the bouquet, a masked boy sitting on the moon in the dark blue night, curled rabbits that is hibernating underneath the earth and a whole lot of great artworks. All works has a signature “C.H.RUIZ”