Prom Night in Purgatory (Slow Dance in P)

~12~

A Time to Dance





The dance was already in full swing when she arrived. Maggie saw only one couple walking along the sidewalk towards the entrance of the school gymnasium. When she slid into an empty spot and turned off the engine, she could hear music pouring from the building. Fear and adrenaline shot through her in equal measures. What was she thinking going to a prom all by herself? What would she do once she got inside? Maggie considered turning the car around and high tailing it back to the relative familiarity of home, even though it wasn’t currently her home.

And then Johnny’s face appeared in her mind’s eye. Johnny. He was inside, and she couldn’t wait to see him. She checked her lipstick and bared her teeth in the rear view mirror, making sure none of the bold red had found its way onto a tooth. All clear. With a fortifying inhale, she stepped from the car and placed the key just under the gas pedal. She wasn’t too worried. No one stole cars in Honeyville, certainly not in 1958.

The sidewalk leading up to the entrance was lined with lanterns and a thick red carpet, the kind that brought to mind movie premiers and Hollywood starlets. At the entrance to the gymnasium was a huge pirate’s chest, spilling out all manner of treasures; golden goblets and plastic gold coins, beads and baubles littered the ground around the base of the trunk. Maggie peered through the open door and slowly walked into the highly decorated hall. The entrance had been made to look like a sunken ship, and for a moment she could not see the people beyond its gaping hull. Then she was inside, silhouetted in the doorway, staring out at the swirling dresses in a myriad of pastel shades; ruffles and sparkles and white sports coats were everywhere. She looked down at her own dress and back at the dresses of the girls being escorted to and from the dance floor. She stood out like a sore thumb.

She caught a few curious glances and felt the same fear that had gripped her in the car. And then she saw him. He was on the other side of the room, but her position on the gang plank elevated her enough to see him clearly. He had stopped and was staring at her, and then he was moving, not breaking eye contact, coming toward her. She watched him make his way through the milling crowd, until he stopped several feet in front of her. Her fear faded like yesterday’s daylight, and the heat of his gaze sputtered and sparked something deep within her belly. She smiled at him.

Johnny smiled back. It was a slow, curving smile that lifted the corners of his well-shaped lips and marked his lean cheeks with deep grooves on either side of his mouth. For a minute, the world righted itself, and Maggie had the distinct sensation of time stopping, adjusting its track, and beginning again. The moment was so ripe with possibility, the flavor of forever so sweet upon her senses, that it was all Maggie could do to not walk right into Johnny’s arms and lay her smiling lips on his, sealing him to her for eternity.

Instead she said, “Are you going to ask me to dance?” Her voice was amazingly steady, as if she traveled through time to dance with her lover on a regular basis.

Johnny held out his hand, and she closed the distance between them. She took it without hesitation, the contact making her catch her breath in wonder, and she knew he felt it too. He seemed to hesitate when they reached the dance floor, as if the song that had begun was not his preference. Oh, but it was hers. She had been waiting so long to dance with him again. Her skin was on fire, the music sending flames licking their way down her body. He looked down at her, and his eyes held a question. She raised her chin, urging him forward, and that was all it took. She was swinging in and out of his arms, flying in time with the drummer who knew his craft. She knew Johnny’s body, the way he moved, the way he danced, and she reveled in the knowledge, matching him step for step and throwing herself into every move he asked of her.

People gathered around them, but her eyes were locked on him, and she didn’t want to look away. The song ended and they were surrounded by applause, and someone hollered out, “I taught Johnny everything he knows.”

Johnny seemed to recognize the voice and shook his head, laughing as he pulled her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her waist. She lifted her arms and settled them on his shoulders, a sloppy imitation of an embrace. The Bell Tones crooned out in harmony, and the couples around them turned away to dance or leave the floor. Johnny looked down into Maggie’s face, and his arms tightened, pulling her closer.

His eyes were on her mouth, and Maggie lifted her chin, inviting him, and her eyes slid closed.

“Johnny,” she whispered, and he froze above her.

“You know my name?”

Maggie nodded slowly, realizing her error. “Yes...I do.”

“Should I know yours?” Johnny wasn’t flirting. His brow was furrowed as if something niggled at him, as if somehow he had missed something vitally important, and had just realized it.

“No.....would you like to know mine?” Maggie was flirting, and she smiled a little to make the cheesy pick-up line a little less cheesy.

“I would very much like to know yours.” Johnny’s brow furrowed again, as if he wasn’t used to playing the anxious admirer.

“My name is Maggie.”

“Maggie....That’s right,” Johnny said, and then looked surprised. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

“Now that you mention it....I’m not so sure....I feel like I’ve known you for a long time.” Maggie meant to continue the playful exchange, but her words rang too true, and she felt a sudden rise of nostalgia engulf her and her eyes sting with emotion.

Johnny had stopped dancing, and Maggie’s arms dropped to her sides. His hands found hers, and the music whirled around them. “Earth Angel, Earth Angel...” The song echoed as if it came from somewhere far off, and Maggie gripped Johnny’s hands, willing time to let her be.

Suddenly, from around them shouts rose up, and the singer at the mic was rather rudely pushed aside. The band ceased playing and a dull roar rose up from the dance floor. Johnny tore his gaze from hers, and together they turned toward the bandstand.

A skinny man in an ill-fitting brown suit and thick black-rimmed spectacles stood testing the mic as if it hadn’t just been used to serenade the people now staring up at it. The band’s front man was looking at the interloper like he wouldn’t mind shoving him off the stage. The man in the brown suit reminded Maggie of her chemistry teacher, Mr. Marshall, and she instantly disliked him. He was clearly the principal and seemed to relish the opportunity to hear his voice echo around the room A policeman stood next to him, his arms akimbo, his stance wide, his face....familiar. Maggie wrinkled her nose in confusion. She knew him....

The answer came almost instantly, and Maggie almost jumped up and down in excitement. It was Clark Bailey -- Chief Bailey, she supposed she should call him. He was handsome in the way men are when they are solid and trustworthy. His shoulders were broad, and his big frame was well-proportioned and trim. Though his face was serious, his manner conveyed calm, and his tone was mild as he took over at the microphone.

“Students, we want to let you get back to the dance right away. We just need some information, and we would appreciate your cooperation.” The man looked out across the upturned faces and waited for the excited chatter to cease.

“We got a report earlier tonight of a stolen car. We found that car here at the school just a few minutes ago, parked out in the back parking lot.” Voices rose in question and wonder and Maggie felt her lungs seize and her breath hiss out in dismay. Johnny glanced down at her, his eyebrows raised in question. Maggie looked away, her mind racing to find a way out of the disaster that was hurtling toward her.

Chief Bailey continued. “The doors were unlocked, and we’ve recovered the key. No harm done. But we still need to know who is responsible.”

Maggie moaned in abject horror and then bit her lip to keep more from escaping. Johnny was staring at her in wonder, and a small smile was playing around his mouth. He leaned in until his lips touched her ear, and in spite of her fear, she shivered at the brief caress.

“Why, Maggie....are you a car thief?”

Maggie shook her head adamantly, her blue eyes wide and beseeching. “It’s not what you think,” she mouthed, her voice so low only he could possibly hear.

“Maybe there’s a reward for the apprehension of the little thief,” he mouthed back, one eyebrow quirked. Maggie’s eyes widened even further.

“Please help me get out of here, Johnny.” Maggie gripped his hand and turned into him, her lips barely moving, her eyes trained on the officers now stationing themselves at every exit. “I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’m really not a bad girl.”

Johnny’s eyes twinkled, and his lips twisted wryly. “Yeah, I was afraid of that.” He gripped her arm and led her to where a tall blond kid stood with a glass of punch, hanging on every word spoken by the girl who swayed in front of him, her skirts swishing to and fro as she looked at him coyly from beneath her lashes. Peggy Wilkey was a very attractive girl, and Maggie held back a little, suddenly remembering that Peggy was Johnny’s date for the evening.

Johnny leaned toward Carter, sliding an arm around his shoulder as he conveyed something neither Maggie nor Peggy could hear. Carter wasn’t as discreet.

“Oh man, Johnny! You didn’t! I shoulda known you had somethin’ to do with it!” Carter groaned and then threw his head back and laughed. Johnny just shook his head indulgently and smacked Carter in the center of his forehead, stopping him mid-chortle.

“I need you to get Peggy home. Can you do that, Slick?” Johnny turned to Peggy and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Carter will take good care of you, Peg. It looks like I’ve run into a little trouble, and with your daddy being who he is, I think it’d be better if I got out of here. Thanks for coming with me tonight; you look beautiful.”

Peggy looked from Johnny to Maggie, and there was a fleeting wistfulness in her gaze. It disappeared when Carter raised his glass of punch and said happily, “I’m taking Peggy Wilkey home! Thank you, Jesus!” Everyone within earshot started to laugh, and Peggy blushed prettily, her attention now riveted on the boy who was so obviously smitten by her.

Johnny grabbed Maggie’s hand and began heading for the entrance doors like he didn’t have a care in the world. Chief Bailey had parked himself in front of them, along with a young officer who barely looked older than the kids he was questioning. Maggie had thought Johnny would find a back entrance or devise a distraction. Nope. He was walking right up to Chief Bailey, easy as you please. Maggie looked around in panic, wondering if she should abandon Johnny and try to exit on her own, maybe hide in the ladies’ bathroom until the prom was over so she could sneak out after the police had gone. Her eyes landed on a figure slouched against the back wall. He had watched her walk across the floor, her hand in Johnny’s. He tipped his chin at her now and raised his hand in a jaunty wave. Maggie didn’t wave back. She had no desire to encourage Roger Carlton in any way. She looked around for Irene, but the crowd was thick, and several couples were making their way to the exits, curious about the stolen car and wanting in on the action.

“Hiya, Chief Bailey,” Johnny called out as he neared the policeman.

“Hi Johnny. You haven’t been out stealing cars this fine evening, have you?” The police chief spoke without rancor, but his eyes were sharp, and Maggie figured he didn’t miss a whole lot. Her gut twisted anxiously. Johnny’s hand tightened briefly around hers. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and handed them to Clark Bailey.

“You know what I drive, don’t ya, Chief? I can’t very well drive two cars at once, now can I?”

“No, but I actually heard that it might have been a lady driving the getaway car. I’m afraid I don’t know your date, Mr. Kinross.”

Maggie froze, and her mind scrambled for something plausible to say. She almost blurted out that she was related to the Honeycutts when the thought entered her mind that maybe Nana had already put the newly arrived “cousin” together with the stolen car, and informed the police that she was a possible culprit.

“I’m Maggie. I’m related to the Russell girls,” Maggie lied smoothly, extending her hand to Chief Bailey. “Nice to meet you, sir.” The funny thing was, Maggie had been in trouble many times before. Foster kids were the first ones to get fingered if something went missing or somebody got hurt. This was the first time, though, that she was actually guilty of exactly what she was under suspicion for. She felt like her guilt was written in black Sharpie across her forehead.

“Nice girls, Cathy and Shirley. Now are you related on their father’s or mother’s side?”

Maggie smiled and prayed she wasn’t walking right into a trap. “Their mother and my mother are first cousins. I’m just visiting.” Not too close, but close enough for there to be a thin layer of protection. It would be just her luck if both Mr. and Mrs. Russell grew up in Honeyville, their siblings and family trees well known by all who grew up alongside them.

“Hey, Chief! You writin’ a book? The girl didn’t steal a car. She’s been with me all night. Can we go, please? I promised I’d have her home early.” Johnny started to move forward, and Chief Bailey stepped aside and let them pass. They were just about out the door when the chief called out after them.

“Say hello to your mother for me, Johnny.”

Johnny stiffened, and Maggie glanced back in surprise. Clark Bailey must have realized after the words left his mouth how they might be perceived. His cheeks darkened briefly, and he turned away, launching into an immediate interrogation of the next couple in line.

Maggie looked up into Johnny’s face, and his mouth was set in a hard line.

“Johnny?” He glanced down at her. “I know it’s none of my business...but trust me on this. Clark Bailey genuinely likes your mother, and he meant no disrespect.”

Johnny’s eyebrows shot up, and he halted in his tracks. “Is that so?”

“Yes.....it is.” Maggie struggled to find words and finally just sighed and said, “There are plenty of bad guys in the world. I just didn’t want you misjudging one of the good guys.”

“Pretty tight with Chief Bailey, are you? He sure didn’t seem to know who you are. Come to think of it, that “good guy” you defend so readily wouldn’t hesitate to throw your pretty tail in jail if he knew you stole that....” Johnny’s voice faded off as he took note of the cop car, complete with flashing lights, parked beside Mary Smith’s pilfered car. A police officer leaned against it, chewing his finger nails, clearly bored.

“You stole an Edsel?” Johnny’s voice was filled with incredulous mirth, and he covered his mouth as if trying to hold in a belly laugh.

“A what?” Maggie was clueless.

“If you’re going steal a car, baby, at least steal something classy. Shoot! The Edsel is the biggest waste of metal on the road. Mark my words, in a couple years that car isn’t gonna be worth a damn dime.” Johnny squeezed the bridge of his nose as if he were afraid he might start to howl and draw unwanted attention.

“What?” Maggie was baffled. She’d never even heard of an Edsel. “I didn’t steal it to make a buck, silly!” she hissed at him, and whacked him with her little silver purse. She looked back at the car and at Johnny, who was still shaking his head and laughing, albeit silently. She couldn’t help but smile at his enjoyment of the situation. Her smile quickly faded, however, as the gravity of her problem started to sink in. She couldn’t go back to Lizzie’s house. Surely the police would return the car, which solved that problem. But Lizzie was going to be frantic. And Maggie had no place to go. Maggie walked several steps and sank down on the curb, her legs suddenly too weak to stand.

“Hey....hey, Maggie. I’m sorry, Doll. Don’t feel bad. I’m sure you’ll make a better choice on your next heist.” Johnny sank down next to her. “Hey....I’m teasing.” He tipped her chin up with a long finger. “Are you okay?”

Maggie felt the sudden urge to cry and looked away. “I don’t have anywhere to go....and I don’t know what to do. I have no money....I don’t have a set of wheels. Even an....an Ethel?”

“Edsel.”

“Right. Even an Edsel is better than nothing.”

“I see.” Johnny was quiet for a moment, and then he looked at her, and his eyes were soft and his voice gentle. “Well. First things first. Let’s grab something to eat. The Malt stays open late on Prom Night. We’ll beat the rush. Then we’ll find somewhere nice and quiet to have our picnic, and you’ll tell me your story. And then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

Maggie gave him a wobbly smile and a small nod of her head. “Sounds like a plan. Thank you, Johnny.”

Johnny stood, brushing off the black trousers he wore with his white sports coat. He extended his hand and pulled her to her feet beside him. He didn’t release her hand but kept it enveloped in his as he made his way to his car. He opened her door and waited until she was settled before he ran to his own, and without a backwards glance at the police car or the beleaguered Edsel, he spun out of the school parking lot and headed to The Malt.