The Dance That Started It All

Chapter 2: A Trip In Flirtation

I fought the urge to massage my temples, "Jac-"
"Shh!"
"Jack?" I repeated, slightly softer. Anna nodded vigorously, threatening to send the also shaking sunflower out of her hair and into the ground. Her petite hand encompassed mine and placed the crudely signed envelope into my palm.
"Tell Helga I'll be back before high tea." I hung my head and resigned myself to the role of accomplice in one of her hormone-fueled drive-by romances.
"Godspeed, handmaid! Godspeed!"
"Thank you." I felt the strong urge in my shaking fists to strike at something, or the bare-minimum tear that goddamn child's valentine to shreds. But nonetheless, I persisted with what I now consider an inhuman amount of self restraint.
Now, 'the market' as its called, is a series of artisan booths and vendors clustered in the historic district and about a half an hour walk from our property. Sure, you had your ma' and pa' drugstore where you could get your eggs and milk and whatnot, nestled right next to the butcher and then the Johnson's bakery down the block, however it was more of a status symbol to be able to eat 'artisan'. And if there was any one thing that Helga cared about, it was status. Apparently, her daughters and herself were too good for Ms. Johnson's yeast rolls and Mr. Perez's cuts of beef flank.
So here I was,wandering down booths of organic goat cheese and homemade lavender bath salts in crystal jars- looking for a man who may not even be here. A familiar tune drifted from somewhere nearby as I swung my hips gently to the low bass and swinging rhythms. It wasn't bad per say and under different circumstances it would be quaint, cozy even. However, shopping for both boys and expensive over-priced dill made the experience far less so; not to mention the harsh winds of early winter that tugged at my hair and clothes.
"Hey!"
I put down the jar of pickled salmon I was holding and looked around.
"Yeah you!" It was one of the cellists, a crooning, neatly put together man with neatly combed hair and bright, ever-smiling eyes.
The corner of lips tugged upwards and I set my now-heavy basket down.
I took an experimental step only for my body to lurch back at the touch of a stranger. My heart stopped. Oh god, did Helga follow me here? I shook my arm free, prying the fingers of whomever off of my shoulder. A deep growl ripped through my throat as I faced the person that had pulled me back.
"Oops, sorry." The woman apologized lamely, wearing a poised smile. She looked to be my age, maybe a year or two my senior but my guess would have been no older than twenty. She wore a peculiar feathered headdress and looked upon me with strikingly unusual violet eyes.
"The name's Toothiana, love." She held my now free hand in her own, "I didn't mean to scare you. I just hadn't seen you around before."
"Funny, I come here at least once a month," I ran my unoccupied hand over where she grabbed me; it was too much of a reminder of home. "But I'm __."
"Ah, __? Well, I just wanted to say, you may not want to go near those folk- 'specially Naveen. Suspicious, kinda shady if you ask me. I'm sure you get it, no?" Toothiana looked at me expectantly, with wide eyes and the ghost of a smirk on her lips, as though I was going to thank her for her infinite wisdom and knowledge.
"I can assure you I've handled worse than a cellist before." I spoke blandly. My hand was promptly dropped and I was no longer held hostage by the flat-chested woman and her odd head wear.
I jogged over across the cobblestone streets to where he was still swiping the bow passionately across the strings, now fully curious. I could still feel Toothiana's eyes boring into the back of my head. I imagine had I turned back, I'd have still seen that artificially crafted, perfected grimace disguised as a smile. A noise that sounded like a mix of a snort and an indignant huff came out from somewhere inside of me. It was bad enough that my life was at the mercy of my step-family, however I'll be damned the moment I start taking advice from people who looked like they missed their stop at Wrigley's Traveling Circus.
"You, I see you've met Toothiana!" Naveen cried, setting aside the instrument and clapping his hands together warmly.
"I suppose one could say that..." I replied, chuckling nervously from behind my hand.
"What's up with you, girl? You always come around here, looking as though you've gotten back from a funeral; why, I don't think I've ever seen a young girl as down as yourself!"
"Oh, you don't know the half of it." I commented wryly. My eyes darted from vendor to vendor, shifting from left to right hurriedly. Maybe I could find something to change the subject? My sight settled back onto his hourglass-shaped instrument.
"So, you swing?"
"Me? Oh, no no no. However, the women do and that's what matters."
I couldn't help but laugh, "Some starving artist you are!"
"Starving I am, starving for the beautiful women who cross my path everyday," He pretended to be deep in thought for a moment before saying, "women like you."
"Oh my! You truly have been starved of good taste if you find me easy on the eye!" I clutched my stomach in mirth, "But tell you what, I've had my fair share of dances, so why don't you put something on and we'll see what happens."
"Hey, I think I like you. You know?"
"Well, that makes one of us." I grinned, showing off my all of my pearly whites.
When my mother was still alive, she danced: danced to anything and everything. I suppose I picked up quickly. When I was eight I wanted to know the Foxtrot, when I was nine, the Charleston revival was all the rage, and right before the accident, swing dancing was the new thing all the cool cats and those affiliated with did. She was always moving, doing something. Mother had a finger in each pie and loved it. I remember being so envious of her; beautiful, with a full hourglass that was both wide in bosom and in hip, paired with a natural aura of confidence. I had her curves, but not her confidence- except when my feet moved.
The sound of trumpets snapped me back into reality and from there it was muscle memory. It felt akin to being woken up from restless slumber after years of tossing and turning. I called out and whooped to the tune, kicking my feet back as I moved. A series of low whistling broke out from a small crowd that had started to grow, dropping quarters and nickles into Naveen's newsboy hat. It was an infectious giddy that had captured the hearts of a few other spectators, including some young girls who giggled and stumbled like new foals.
"Hey lady!" I kept my hands moving as I craned my neck to see a silver-haired boy dancing a sharp rendition of the Charleston.
"Hey yourself!" I called and in a single fluent motion turned to face him.
"Are you new here?" He asked, over the influx of voices, and, blaring trumpets.
"I'm about as old as old can get!" I cried through the jovial atmosphere.
"That's a real shame, that."
"Why do you say that?" I scoffed.
"Because I would have hoped I'd have remembered a girl like you!" He gave me a sly grin, and I fought the laughter building up in my throat.
"I bet you say that to all the girls here."
"Only if they were as cute as you."
"Oh, I'm sure."
He grabbed my hands in his, and turned it into an impromptu swing dance.
"So, tell me, a catch of a gal like you must have a name." We came together, shifting our feet as he swung me out again.
"It's __, and I suppose now I'm obligated to ask you yours?"
"Beautiful and smart; Now there's a combination you don't see too often! Name's Jack, Jack Overland!"
"Oh!" I broke our hold, rushing for the wicker basket and weaving through the clusters of dancers, "My step-sister wanted me to bring you something!" I dug out the envelope, the embarrassment not my own scalding on my face like a blanket of guilt. It was oddly childish: could she not court him in person? But upon, finding him again, he was dancing with Toothiana and her feathered headdress and almost birdlike stature.
Without thinking about my gracelessness, I tapped him on the shoulder and I thought to myself that he must be wealthy if he could afford to wear silk on his outings to the market. He immediately came to a halt, mid shimmy and turned to address me; much to the frustration of a still-grimacing Toothiana. I handed it to him, about to give a rather hasty explanation until he cut me off.
"An-a?"
"Ah-na," I corrected, "But yes, she put me under the impression that you two knew each other. Is that not true?"
"No, I mean yes- I know her, but I don't know what to say? To this." He gestured to the envelope, and I felt an urge in me somewhere to giggle.
"Should I just tell her you were speechless?"
"Please do." He visibly recoiled, "But before you leave, do tell me when I'll get to see you next."
I feigned some form of deep thought before answering, "Perhaps next week and perhaps never. If I'm lucky it'll be the latter." I flashed the same teasing smile that I had given to Naveen earlier, before ducking out of sight and down the cobblestone streets and back home.
However, even through the walk home, the spirit of the music vibrated through my being. I hardly had enough time to practice until the late hours, and by then I was at risk of waking the household. I fanned my face with my hands as to try and cool the redness of my cheeks, but it didn't seem to do much. There was a buzzing that filled my body from head to toe, as struck by some euphoric spell of luck or fate or destiny or some other form of divine intervention.
That and the dumbstruck smile that was stained onto my visage. As an appeasement for Helga, I bought black salted licorice in hopes that I wouldn't be punished for my tardiness- not that I didn't already have a handful of excuses ready to go. I fanned and fanned until my hands cramped, but I still couldn't get rid of that rosy glow. I spent the entire walk trying to.
By the time my footsteps padded into the parlor, the sun mas high in the sky. I swallowed harshly, hoping that my general appearance was just as miserable as I left.
"I was hoping that you could be competence for once." Helga narrowed her eyes, seething.
"The market was crowded: packed shoulder to shoulder," I lied, "but I brought you something." I dug into the basket, producing the inky package of sweets. She tilted her head back, contemplating the truthfulness of my claim. I resisted the urge to squirm under her inaudible interrogation.
"I suppose you can be useful once in a blue moon." She flexed her pallid, long, spider-like fingers and as ridiculous as it was, I felt like I was feeding some beast.
"Now off to the kitchen, before I decide to take back my generosity."
And so I did, feeling as freshly relieved as a spring daisy. Never had I ever been so overjoyed to slip back into the kitchen before. My chest swelled with a gentle heat, a pride unparalleled in recent years. I had felt as though I had gotten away with some insidious crime by granting myself a small morsel of pleasure.
By the better end of the hour, I had managed to pull together a simmering red bisque served with bread and butter. However, my mind was still in the swirl of enthrallment, and unbeknownst to me, I had begun to trace out the early steps of a foxtrot with my feet right there next to the stove.
"Have you-"
For a brief moment, I felt my very soul disconnect from my body as I had launched myself a foot in the air. I scrambled to face Anna, head hung and ready for the incoming-
"You can dance!" It came out as more of a statement on her end than a question.
"Oh no! Not me, I had uh..." My voice became meek as it trailed off. What was I to say? I had spilled some oil on me and began moving to cool it quickly? I was celebrating the fact that I wasn't beaten senseless today?
"But you can! I was surprised someone as heavy as yourself could be so graceful, but I'm awestruck," She clasped her hands over her chest, " Oh this is marvelous! You know, I've asked mother for a tutor and all this time she's been bringing back these stiff-absolutely ancient skeletons. Oh it was awful! But you! To think all this time you could have-"
Sweat peppered my forehead. I could hear the rustle and settling of furniture overhead as someone was no doubt coming to investigate her squealing. I flailed my arms and shook my head, shushing her as I imagine one would shush a particularly nasty child- sternly yet gently.
"Oh say that you'll teach me! Say that you will!"
I put my hands out palm first in front of me, the way one must calm a raging steed, "Alright, alright! Will you- will you just shush though?" I pleaded.
"Why, is this some sort secret?" She leaned forward, her doe eye glistening with the promise of drama.
"No, it's- well yes, but we're both keeping secrets for each other now, I suppose."