Saturday Night (17 page)

They swirled in spinning, uneven circles, jerking heads and spines, thrusting out toes and wrists. Like a whirlpool in a high tide, Beth was swept into the dance, spun around by it, past Anne, away from Sue and Jimmy, between Gary and Jennie, up to Bob, Jennie’s boyfriend.

It was like the
Twilight Zone
. The cafeteria no longer seemed romantic, but just poorly lit. She did not seem to be dancing herself, but thrown about by some greater force. Beth Rose wanted to scream, but the music screamed for her, vibrating across the room, piercing her ears, making her dance with more and more violence.

Anne was terrified. Where her strength had come from she had no idea. She did not know what emotion she was experiencing. Not anger. Not fear. Something dreadful: cold and hot, frantic and panicky.

Like the edge of a cliff, tempting her to jump.

It was ten-seventeen.

Gary, dancing with Jennie, was oblivious to the world.

Anne, madly dancing alone, was caught in the cyclone of her own fears.

Emily was leaving the emergency room, standing in the bathroom with the nurse, using the nurse’s lipstick and powder. Matt was hanging in the doorway, telling her to hurry up. Her father was standing behind Matt, telling her to slow down.

Beth could not bear the crazed energy that had seized them all. Suddenly she yearned to be alone—
had
to be alone. She fled behind the scarecrow to the corner where she had hoped Gary would kiss her, and there in the shadows she leaned against the wall and shivered.

Kip, seeing Anne dance alone, decided that she, too, could dance. She didn’t need a boy, either. What was this but a time for dancing? A time to forget your troubles and lose yourself in the satisfying repetition of rhythm and footwork.

Separated by the smallest of distances, their hearts and their minds were worlds apart.

Outside, the storm began to wind down. The wind lessened. The rain stopped completely. The center of the storm shifted. Now the lightning was on the horizon. The thunder came many seconds later, a faint echo instead of a jarring boom.

One last gust tore across the open playing fields and the wide parking lots. An old maple tree, whose core was eaten away by age and disease, began to split. A huge weakened limb tore from the tree. Thousands of tiny branches and twigs brushed the air. The roots and bark of the dying tree screamed in protest.

Halfway down, it caught the wires that brought electricity into Westerly Senior High.

Without fanfare, without warning, the lights went off inside the decorated cafeteria.

The instruments were instantly silenced.

The dancing ceased.

The dark came down, frightening, total darkness, enveloping everyone.

T
HIS IS MY LIFE,
Anne thought. The lights are out. And they’re not going to come on again, either.

The strange energy that had tossed her into the dance abandoned her. She felt as weak as if she had just been through some terrible illness. She could hardly stand, let alone dance.

For several moments the room was eerily silent. Then the chatter, the giggling, the shouting began. “Where are you?” a girl screamed, making the most of anonymity. “I’m over here,” bellowed a boy.

“Ooooooh, I just touched something slimy!” Megan screamed in her high voice.

“Ooooooh, I just touched something sexy,” said a boy very clearly. The whole room dissolved into laughter.

Shuffling feet replaced the scuffling sounds of the drummer. Outstretched hands found the wrong places or the wrong people, and laughter rocketed around the room.

Anne tried to orient herself. She had been near the far wall. If she backed up she’d be at the food barn. Behind that would be the wall. She yearned for the wall. Solid. Safe.

She began inching toward it. She had never been afraid of the dark, and yet she felt things coming out of it, trying to hit her, and she cringed as she moved.

The junior high kids who were supposed to be waiters and waitresses were giggling like maniacs. Drinking soda in the dark, they began throwing cheese balls at each other and squashing them under their feet.

Anne found the wall. She felt it, her arms outstretched to their greatest length. Nobody else, and no objects, shared her wall. She walked her fingers up the wall. Nobody. Nothing.

Am I still sane? she thought.

Twice people literally passed over her. Feeling their way along the wall, they were headed for the pay phones in the front foyer. A girl tripped over Anne’s foot. “Oooof. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” said Anne. She was weeping. Her face and throat were soaked as if she had been in the rain. The couple passed on over her, like any obstacle to a journey, and bumped into somebody else.

“Oooh, who’s that?” the girl squealed.

“Amanda and Jason.”

The four talked about the blackout, how long it might last, and whether they should go home. “I just heard some hot gossip,” Amanda said.

“Yeah? Tell all. I love even cold gossip.”

“Anne Stephens is pregnant and Con walked out on her.”

“That’s not hot. I heard that half an hour ago.”

No, Anne thought. No, no, no, no. Kip, whom I trusted completely. Kip told? Let it not be true. Not Kip!

But it was true. Their conversation drifted back to her. Well, I can’t pretend now, Anne thought. The whole school knows. No matter what I decide, no matter whether Con’s around or not, it’s out.

It’s not just my mother and grandmother I have to face.

It’s my whole world.

It’s every class, every kid, every teacher, every parent.

Kip had told.

I might as well lie down and die, Anne thought, but she did neither. She wept. When the lights come on, I will look so awful. But who cares? You can’t get any lower than I already am. It can’t get worse.

Beth Rose was close enough to embrace the scarecrow. He’s my partner, she thought crazily. I could dance with him in the dark. Or even in the light. And who would know the difference? There’s old Beth Rose Chapman, they’ll say. Dating a scarecrow again. Just her type.

Now the rest were over the initial fear and enjoying the sudden complete dark! They were treating it like some special effect arranged by Kip for their entertainment.

“Gary?” she said. “Gary, where are you?”

She spoke too softly for anyone to hear, let alone Gary, who must be on the far side of the room. She didn’t really want him to hear. How would it make her feel better when he discovered how desperate she was? How frantic she was for rescue?

Rescue. But I’m not afraid of the dark. I kind of like the dark. I want him to rescue me from being unpopular.

But that, too, was a kind of darkness.

Beth Rose waited, hoping her guardian angel would guide Gary across the floor to her, but of course that was ridiculous. Gary would stay where it was fun: in the midst of Jennie and Bob and that crowd, laughing until the lights came on. For a person like Gary, Beth thought, the lights were always on.

Perhaps the blackout was a fortunate thing, though. She could make her exit in the dark and not have to look at any of them. She wouldn’t have to leave with her head hung, in failure. She would just not be there when the electricity was returned to the cafeteria.

She worked her way around the walls, stepping over people when she felt them with her outstretched fingers, apologizing, responding to their giggles with her giggles. Eventually she reached the long black corridor.

Somebody stepped on her with a bone-crushing weight.

She could not stifle her moan of pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I knew I would do that.” A boy’s voice. Hands patted her anxiously, found her arms, pulled her back on her feet. “Are you okay? Did I break any bones? It sounded as crunchy as potato chips!”

“I’m fine.” She did not recognize his voice. She hung onto him. “I think it was more my shoe and the hem of my dress.”

“Oh, no. I probably ripped the whole dress.”

“I hope not. But we’ll find out when the lights come on.”

The hall was so completely, utterly dark. People poured up and down, hunting for adventure. To judge by laughter and silly jokes, they were finding it.

“Which way are you going?” Beth asked the boy.

“I’m leaving. I’m having a lousy time.”

“Don’t go,” she said.

She was shocked at her own voice. There was a desperation in it that she had not even known she was feeling. Misery.
Don’t go.
It was a cry of anguish. Hold onto me in the dark. Please don’t go away. Stay with me.

Hysterically laughing people, at least ten or twelve of them, stumbled past. Shrieks of, “I’m tripping on somebody’s feet!” “I can’t see where I’m going!” “Do you
believe
this?” “Wonder how long it’ll be off.” “Let’s go outside and shine the car headlights on ourselves so we can see who we’re kissing!”

Wild laughter.

Pounding feet.

Pushing bodies.

And then they were past. It was quiet in the hall. The cafeteria doors closed with a slap.

Very slowly she put her fingers out.

Nobody else was there.

She swung her arm in a circle.

She touched nothing.

He left me, she thought. He didn’t even know who I was, and he knew I was a loser.

The next group poured out of the cafeteria. “I guess there won’t be a King and Queen of
this
dance,” said the first voice. “You have to be able to see who you’re voting for.”

“I thought maybe Beth Rose and Gary would be it. They looked so wonderful.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t come together. She came alone. That’s why he was with her. They were just the only two people who didn’t have dates.”

The voice and the body that owned it crawled over Beth at that very same moment.

No, Beth thought. No, no, no, no, don’t let me hear that!

But she had heard it, and it was true.

Her dress was nothing. Her special aura didn’t exist. Her personality had not changed. She was nothing more than the only girl there that Gary could bother with. And that was all.

It was a knowledge too terrible for tears. It lay on her like one of her mother’s smirks. Oh Bethie, you can’t do that. Oh Bethie, you’re no good at that. Oh Bethie, nobody will think that’s interesting. Oh Bethie, go back and try again, you’ve failed this time, too.

I am truly Cinderella, Beth Rose thought. The lights went out like the clock at the palace striking midnight. I’m no longer dancing with Prince Charming. My dress isn’t magical and neither am I. The dress is just cloth and I’m just Beth Chapman.

She walked dully toward the phones, not worrying about hitting anything in the dark, just stumbling forward.

There would be no coach and four to take her home, either. Just a mother very annoyed because she had to stay up so late waiting.

Two of the junior high girls, leaping about in the dark in their long black maid skirts, bumped into the carefully stacked pumpkins. There was a clatter as heavy invisible pumpkins tumbled over each other and hit the floor. The boys, horsing around next to the girls, bent over to identify the strange sounds and felt split pumpkin on their fingers.

“All right!” shouted an eighth grader. “Let’s have a pumpkin fight!”

Kip, across the cafeteria, screamed at the top of her lungs, “Don’t you dare have a pumpkin fight!”

The kids paused momentarily. “What can she do to us?” pointed out a seventh grader. “She can’t even find us.”

“I’ve got a handful of wet disgusting pumpkin pulp!” yelled an eighth grade boy. “First person I catch I’m going to rub it in her hair.”

“Sexist,” shrieked one of the girls. “Rub it in a boy’s hair.”

“No fun in that,” said the eighth grader, feeling his way over the fallen pumpkins.

His best friend began jumping up and down on the pumpkins to split the rest of them open.

Kip, shouting, “I’ll kill you! You ruin my dance and I’ll kill you!” came tearing across the room. She forgot about the wooden swing and ran into it full speed. There was a couple sitting happily making out in the dark and she landed right on top of the boy.

“Kip, give me a break,” said the boy.

“How do you know it’s me?” she said.

“You’re the only one dumb enough to get involved in a junior high pumpkin fight instead of enjoying the dark,” he told her. He helped her to her feet, but not from charity. It was because he wanted to get back to his girl friend.

Kip headed toward the squelching sounds. The junior high kids were screaming with delight. Kip began grabbing any arm she could feel. The first person cried, “Ouch! It wasn’t me. I’m just standing here. I promise. I didn’t throw any pumpkin!”

“Stand somewhere else then,” said Kip.

She worked her way forward and found a definite culprit. He was slimy with pulp. Kip’s fingers dug into his arms. “Gotcha.”

“What are you going to do with me?” he said. “You don’t even know who I am and you don’t have any lights for detective work, either.” He yanked free and she could hear his feet hitting the pumpkins. What a mess it would be, tracked all over the room!

“Here’s a flashlight.” A voice in the dark shone a light right in her eyes, blinding her. She felt past the glare and grabbed the handle. “Where’d you get it?” she demanded. But she didn’t wait for an answer, because she recognized the junior high boys. “Evan and Brock!” she screamed. “I’ll kill you. I’ll call the principal. I’ll call your fathers.”

“Come on,” said Evan. “We’ll clean up. Promise. Don’t tell on us. Good clean fun.”

Kip turned to her unknown benefactor. “Are there any more flashlights where this came from?”

“Custodian’s closet. No, I checked. Just that. Some kid threw up in the bathroom and I went to find a mop.”

“Oh yuck. You truly are a saint. Cleaning up that. I think I would draw the line.”

“I would, too, except the kid was my brother. If he wasn’t in the bathroom getting sick he’d be out here tossing pumpkin pulp.”

“I know the type,” said Kip. “I have four brothers of my own.”

“I know. Your brother George is in my sister Kate’s class.”

Kip flashed the light all over him. “Who are you?” she said. He was certainly nice-looking, but not the least familiar.