Don’t Let Me Go(40)

“That’s good,” Ms. Katz said. “I’ll be dropping by every now and then to check and see that you’re still OK.”

“Like when?”

“Just here and there.”

“Oh,” Grace said.

She wanted to say, “No, don’t,” but was pretty sure that would be a wrong thing to say.

Then Ms. Katz left, and not a moment too soon. Rayleen let out her breath like she hadn’t breathed in an hour, so she must’ve felt the same way.

Billy’s door opened a crack, and he peeked out.

“It’s OK,” Rayleen said. “She’s gone.”

“Good thing Grace wasn’t really in trouble,” Billy said. “She could have died waiting for that woman to show up.”

“That’s the county for you. They never do enough, except when they do too much.”

Grace couldn’t help noticing that Rayleen’s hands were shaking. And Grace was pretty sure they hadn’t at any other times, at least since that first time when Rayleen was on the phone in her apartment. So there weren’t too many things that could make Rayleen shake like that, and they were always from the county.

They went back inside Rayleen’s apartment, and Rayleen turned on the TV and sat Grace in front of it. A minute later Grace looked around for Rayleen, and saw her slumped down on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. And she was crying.





Billy



On Monday, Grace came slouching into his apartment at the usual time, wearing her tap shoes. He could hear the clicks they made on the worn hardwood of the hallway, and when his carpet muffled the taps, he mourned the loss.

He expected her to go straight to her plywood dance floor. Instead she sat on the couch with him and sighed.

“I don’t think I should dance today,” she said.

“Because…”

“Geez, Billy. Do I really have to tell you? Somebody died!”

“Right,” he said. “Got it. How come you have your tap shoes on?”

“Cause I love them.”

“Ah.”

“Billy? Do you think I could be a dancer?”

“I think you already are.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, you dance, don’t you?”

“I meant like a real dancer.”

“So you figure you’re just a fake dancer so far.”

“Stop it, Billy! You know what I mean!”

It was not a teasing tone on her part. It was a flash of genuine anger. He tried to shake it off, laugh it away in the silence of his own gut. But he was stung, and he couldn’t get out from under it as easily as all that.

“Yes. I do know what you mean. So I’ll give you an honest answer. Maybe. If you’re willing to work incredibly hard. I mean, the kind of work you’d have to do, I’m guessing you probably didn’t even know this much work existed in the world. You’re not a natural. But you could still get there.”

“What’s a natural?”

“Somebody who dances pretty much the way they breathe, like it’s just what their body was built to do. It’s almost as if they’re not even learning it so much as just brushing up on it. But then there’s a whole other group. The pluggers. They have to work a lot harder, but they can get there eventually, too.”

“Were you a natural or a plugger?”

“I was a natural.”

“Hmm,” Grace said. “So I guess being a natural’s not all you need to get there.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“True, though. Painful, but true. The hard work is the lion’s share of the battle. Hard work can sometimes substitute for natural ability, but natural ability almost never makes up for not being willing to do the work.”

“I didn’t get the part about the lion, but never mind. I know how weird you talk. But you weren’t lazy, though. Were you?”

“No.”

“You were scared.”

“Let’s talk about something else. Did you ever stop to think that Mr. Lafferty might want you to dance, even at a time like this? Or especially at a time like this?”

“Think so?”

“He gave you the tap floor and the shoes.”

“True. I’m just not sure I even feel like dancing after somebody just died like that. Oops. You know what? Never mind. Forget I even said that. I forgot, I’m a plugger. I better get to work.”

She shuffled carefully across the rug to her plywood tap floor and took her position. She raised one foot. But before she could even lower it again, they heard her mother calling for her in the hall.

“Grace? Where are you, Grace?”

They looked at each other, frozen, and a little scared. They’d both seen this moment coming, and they both knew what it meant. The first time Grace’s mother got her head up, she was going to hear the news. It was all they’d been waiting for.

Grace said, in a broad stage whisper, “Told you it wasn’t a good day for dancing.”

? ? ?

“OK, I called Rayleen at work,” Grace said, letting herself back in and hanging the key to Rayleen’s apartment around her neck again.

“Is she coming home?”